The tour had ended with them sailing almost aimlessly through a calm patch of sea around Heimaey and the nearby islands, while the old captain spun his stories. It would have been interesting to see their route on a map, since only fate seemed to determine the course Paddi the Hook took. Now and again he described certain aspects of the landscape to them and informed them of local customs and geography. But it was clear to everyone that this was not the purpose of the trip. He didn’t make any particular effort to describe what they were seeing, appearing to slip into tour guide mode only occasionally, out of habit. Thóra would try to appear interested, but with limited success. It wasn’t that it was difficult- the scenery was fabulous, especially south of Heimaey – but she thought it looked as though when the Almighty put the main island there, pieces had crumbled off and formed the other islands that lay scattered about. When she and Bella finally disembarked after the three-hour trip, Thóra was much better informed about life in the Islands and the people she thought were tied to the case. Paddi had seemed unwilling to admit that Alda’s name had ever been linked with the blood on the pier, and hadn’t succumbed to Thóra’s badgering. The smack with its foreign crew had sailed away in the night.
Back on land Thóra had tried to show the old sailor the copy of the photo from Alda’s desk, in the hope that he could identify the young man. Paddi shook his head and said that he wasn’t from the Westmann Islands, and looked more like a foreigner. Thóra thanked him and put the picture back into her bag. What she had, then, was the story about the blood on the pier, and the fact that Magnus had been in the area around the time it appeared. She found it interesting that Magnus’s wife was so adamant her husband hadn’t left the house again after bringing their drunken son home. Of course it was possible that she hadn’t been aware of him leaving, but Thóra suspected the woman had been persuaded to make this statement against her better judgement.
Fresh in Thóra’s memory were the descriptions of the violence that had caused the deaths of the men in the basement. It required a particular type of man to attack others in such a way, and now everything pointed towards that man being her client’s father. Dadi Horseshoe – and possibly others – must have helped him. This made more sense than the theory that an adolescent girl had been the perpetrator.
Back at the hotel Thóra realized that her cheeks felt warm, and in the first mirror she passed she saw that her face was the colour of a redfish. She cursed herself for not using the sunscreen she had so conscientiously taken with her. Bella looked much the same. The secretary yawned and Thóra noticed that she had no fillings in her teeth, although she had had no desire to find this out. ‘Do you want to take a nap?’ asked Thóra, who would certainly have liked to take one herself. ‘I need to make several phone calls and try to speak to Maria, Leifur’s wife. So you can just take it easy. Then we’ll have a late dinner when I come back.’
Bella didn’t need to be asked twice. Thóra went up to her room, but only to take a shower and put on something a bit cleaner and more presentable than her jeans and sweatshirt. Afterwards she felt much better, her fatigue washed away, along with the salt in her hair. It was just as well, because she needed all her energy to make it through the phone calls awaiting her. One of them was to Markus, to tell him the new information about his father, and to let him know that she intended to tell the police Paddi’s story about the blood. She also planned to inform the police about the English smack, because she was pretty sure the bodies were once its crew. She couldn’t imagine how the men had ended up in the basement of Markus’s childhood home after leaving the Islands several days before the eruption, but she had a strong feeling about it nevertheless. Everyone agreed there had been few foreigners in the Islands at the time, so no one else fitted. Right now she couldn’t waste time on these speculations, though, because she had plenty of other things to do. She started by phoning her children.
‘Have you got an apartment for the festival?’ asked Gylfi. No hello Mum, how’s it going?
Thóra didn’t try to explain that she’d been too busy saving an innocent man from prison to make any preparations for The Bank Holiday weekend. It would mean nothing to Gylfi.‘No, I haven’t heard anything yet,’ she said honestly. Indeed she hadn’t heard anything about empty apartments, since she hadn’t asked. ‘I need to call someone later who may be able to help me.’Leifur was on Thóra’s list to call, and if he couldn’t get them an apartment no one could. The fact that she was about to tell the police his father could be connected to the bodies in the basement might throw a spanner in the works. But her task was to make Leifur understand that it was best for his brother, and that it was Markus’s legal right that the truth be told.
‘Don’t forget to sort it out,’ said Gylfi doggedly. ‘We have to go.’
One has to brush one’s teeth, one has to eat healthy food, but one doesn’t have to go to a festival; Thóra decided not to share this thought with her son, instead asking after Sóley. She then had to pull the phone away from her ear, as Gylfi immediately started yelling his sister’s name as though he thought she was with Thóra and he had to make himself heard through the phone.‘Hi, sweetheart,’ said Thóra when her daughter came on the line. ‘How are things at Grandma’s?’ The kids were with their father’s parents, who often complained about not getting to see their grandchildren enough, but were never free to look after them when Thóra actually needed them. They were well-off and travelled a great deal. Miraculously, this time everything had come together and the kids had gone to stay in their big house on Arnarnes. This was meant to be their dad’s weekend, but Hannes and his wife were at a friend’s fortieth birthday party that evening. Thóra had never managed to foster a good relationship with her ex-husband’s family, though they had never actually had any conflicts. They were simply very different kinds of people, especially her and her former mother-in-law.
‘Hello, Mum,’ said Sóley.‘I’m with Grandma in the hot tub. Do you know who’s with us?’
‘No,’ said Thóra, hoping it wasn’t the nutritionist the couple had recently hired. Thóra didn’t want her eight-year- old daughter to have to listen to talk about food and diets.
‘Orri!’ shouted Sóley, obviously delighted. ‘He’s with us in the hot tub and he peed!’ She whispered the last bit, then started giggling. Thóra had trouble not doing the same. It had been a long time since she’d laughed and she didn’t dare start, for fear that she wouldn’t be able to stop. She spoke to Sóley for a few more moments before saying she looked forward to seeing them all tomorrow, and hanging up.
She called Matthew next. Her phone signal had dropped in and out at sea, making it unclear whether he had tried to reach her, but it didn’t matter. She wanted to know what he was planning to do. Thóra smiled just hearing his voice.
‘Oh, hi,’ she said stupidly.‘I haven’t been able to get a good signal for the last few hours, and apparently you haven’t either. Otherwise I would have tried you sooner.’
‘No problem,’ he said.‘I’ve tried to reach you a couple of times but I haven’t had much luck. How’s it going? Have you found a body to go with the head?’
Thóra smiled. ‘No,’ she replied. ‘I’m not particularly looking for it; I’ve got enough on my plate digging around to find out what happened. It’s going slowly.’ She didn’t want to waste time telling Matthew the whole sorry story. ‘And now there’s another body.’
‘What? They found more?’
‘Not in the same place. A woman who could have helped my client was found dead. They thought she’d committed suicide, but it turned out she was murdered.’
‘Ah,’ said Matthew slowly.‘I hope you’re being careful. I told you that anyone who could cut off a man’s genitals is dangerous.’
‘We don’t know if it’s the same guy that killed her,’ she said. All the people connected to the old case are either dead or demented, remember?‘
‘Who says it’s even a man?’asked Matthew. ‘Women can be just as crazy as men. Maybe this thing with the genitals has something to do with the man’s behaviour towards a woman.’
It had crossed Thóra’s mind that a woman might have done it, even though a woman surely couldn’t have had the strength to beat several men to death. Especially not a housewifeback in those days, who probably wouldn’t have done any training at the gym or other sports. Of course, a blunt instrument of some sort had been used, so a very angry woman could have caused the damage, but it was more likely that a man or group of men had done it. Thóra grabbed the bull by the horns.‘So, tell me what you’re planning to do. I need to know what you’re thinking about the job.’ She closed her eyes and crossed her fingers. Please come, she thought. Take the job and come to me.
‘I’m thinking about saying yes,’ said Matthew. His voice was cautious, as if he expected her to try to dissuade him. ‘At least I’m sort of thinking about it.’
‘Excellent!’ Thóra was startled at the force of her own exclamation, which came straight from the heart. ‘It’s nicer in Iceland,’ she added weakly. She counted to ten before going on, so she wouldn’t make even more of a fool of herself. ‘I’m really glad to hear that. When are you coming?’
‘I still have to get my ticket but I hope to make it over within the next fortnight, to speak to them one last time. I’ll be able to determine from that meeting when I can move there,’said Matthew, who seemed happy with her reaction. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing you,’ he said. ‘I hope you won’t be out at sea or down in a basement the whole time I’m in the country.’
‘You should try to add a day or two to your trip to be sure,’ said Thóra. It would be awful if Markus’s case prevented them from meeting up. ‘I’m going home tomorrow, but who knows when I’ll have to come back to the Islands.’
They said goodbye and Thóra selected the number for Litla- Hraun Prison with a smile on her lips. After several moments Markus came to the phone. ‘I’m really glad to hear from you,’ he said, out of breath, after they’d exchanged greetings. ‘I remembered a phone call I got while I was driving east, and it’s probably the call that came from the unlisted number.’ He sounded proud. ‘I didn’t want to do anything before I’d let you know about it, although of course I really wanted to have the police called here to take a new statement.’
‘Good,’ said Thóra, happy with the news, as well as his decision to wait for her. ‘Who was it, then?’
‘I made an offer on an apartment in the Islands for my son. He spends so much time there and has always stayed with Leifur and Maria. It doesn’t really work any more, since he’s almost an adult now. I remember that the estate agent called me because the seller’s time limit for accepting offers was about to run out. We discussed what I should do, and the upshot was that I asked him to increase the offer. I’ve done business with him before, so he knows me well and he’ll be able to verify that it was actually me on the phone.’
Thóra felt like jumping for joy. Now things were starting to fall into place. ‘Outstanding,’ she said.‘I’ll pass this on to the police, and they can talk to him tomorrow when your custody period is over. They’ll hardly request an extension if you’ve got an alibi.’ She heard Markus sigh with relief.
‘That’s just as well, because I can’t take it here much longer,’ he said. ‘I feel like I’m in limbo. I don’t know what’s happening out in the world, I’m not allowed to read the papers or even watch the news on television. I’ve got a lot of stocks in foreign markets, and this is completely unacceptable. I could be losing tens of millions.’
‘It’s almost over,’ said Thóra. ‘I doubt I’ll be in touch with you again about this before tomorrow, because I won’t reach anyone from the investigative team today. The last resort would be to talk to Gudni, of course, but I would prefer to speak to Stefán. There was something else I wanted to talk to you about now, though.’
‘Isn’t there any chance of me getting out tonight, since I’ve got an alibi?’ asked Markus, and Thóra wondered if he’d heard what she’d said.
‘I’ll ask, of course,’ said Thóra. ‘But it will be refused, since you’re suspected of more than just Alda’s murder. They’ll detain you as long as they can, because of the other bodies. We’re not out of the woods yet, although things are starting to move in the right direction. Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,’ she added, happy to be able to direct the conversation back onto the right track. ‘I’ve received information pertaining to your father and something that happened in the Islands several days before the eruption. It might not have anything to do with the bodies in the basement, but I suspect it’s closely related. I need to tell the police what I know.’ Thóra waited for Markus’s reaction, but he said nothing.
‘What are you talking about exactly?’ he finally asked. ‘Does it look bad for my father?’
‘Yes.’ Thóra didn’t see any reason to lie. ‘He was seen in the place where the blood was discovered, without any explanation for it. The blood might have come from a fight, or an assault that ended up with the men being put in the basement. Naturally, the truth will come out, but in order to prove or discount anything the police need to know about this.’
‘Is there any real need for you to tell them?’ asked Markus. ‘If it might not have anything to do with my case?’
‘I’m hoping the police will determine whether the events are related,’ said Thóra. ‘If it turns out they are, they can investigate what happened and hopefully figure out who these people were and how they met their maker.’ Thóra took a deep breath. ‘You need this case to be solved, Markus. The truth won’t do you any harm.’
‘When is Dad supposed to have been seen at this bloodbath?’ asked Markus, his voice unreadable.
‘The Friday evening before the eruption, the same night you got drunk for the first time,’ she replied.‘Nobody saw him taking part in any violent activity, but he was seen in the place where the blood was found the next morning. Of course that doesn’t necessarily mean anything, and maybe a logical explanation will be found, one that has little to do with him.’She waited for a moment but Markus said nothing. ‘Do you remember if your father went out again after he brought you home?’
Markus snorted. ‘I passed out as soon as we got in. I didn’t even make it to my room – I woke up on the sofa, having thrown up on the carpet, to Mum’s delight. I doubt that Dad would have been in the mood to go anywhere. It’s all a bit of a blur, but I still remember how angry he was.’
‘So your father could have gone out again after bringing you home?’ asked Thóra carefully. ‘Without you noticing.’
‘Yes,’ said Markus slowly.‘I guess so.’ He paused. ‘But there’s no way Dad killed anyone and put them in the basement that night. There were no bodies lying around when I put the box there a couple of days later. So I can’t see how it matters, or why you should have to tell the police whether he went out or stayed at home.’
‘If your father didn’t do anything, it’ll be fine,’ said Thóra, although she highly doubted this. Many years had passed since these events had occurred and she couldn’t see how anything could be proved after all this time.
‘I’m not that keen to clear my name if it means pinning it all on Dad,’ said Markus stubbornly.‘I’m not that kind of man.’
Thóra let her head fall back and she looked up at the ceiling. Christ. ‘Telling the police what I’ve found out doesn’t necessarily implicate him in anything, Markus,’she said, then paused for emphasis. ‘But if he did do something, then it’s not right to detain you as a suspect, and I believe he wouldn’t want that if he understood what was happening. Is that what you’d want for your son?’
‘No,’ admitted Markus reluctantly. ‘Will you talk to my son tonight and tell him I have an alibi for Alda’s murder?’
Thóra wasn’t going to let Markus off that easily. ‘I’ll do that, but first I need to be sure you understand what I’m saying. I’m about to call the police with information that will help you, but that might be detrimental to your father. You need to realize that I’m doing what is right for you, as you are my client. Your father is not.’ There was silence on the other end.‘Did you know about the blood? It was found on the pier.’
‘Yes,’ said Markus, slightly sheepishly. ‘I remember it vaguely. I had other things to worry about after my drunken night. Of course at school everybody was talking about the dance, so we weren’t all that interested in the blood – it seemed trivial in comparison to our troubles.’
Thóra suspected Markus recalled this more than ‘vaguely’; she was sure he remembered everything from the time that it happened, but had not wanted to tell her for fear of incriminating his father. She could understand the sentiment, but the reason wouldn’t matter to the police. ‘This will all come out,’ she said with finality. ‘At best, your father had nothing to do with the bodies. At worst, he was involved. Unfortunately, we can’t ask him about it.’
‘But he didn’t murder Alda, that much is certain,’ said Markus.
‘No, you’re right,’ said Thóra. ‘Maybe her murder isn’t connected to the other bodies at all.’ Was that feasible? Who would kill Alda, if it had nothing to do with the head?
Thóra let the stream of words wash over her. Hannes was unstoppable when he talked about himself, especially if he could turn the conversation round to his inspirational ideas about personal morality. In other words, a phone call from him was like a message from heaven.‘So you understand why I can’t discuss any details that fall under the hospital’s confidentiality codes,’ he said smugly. Thóra had the feeling that he was looking in the mirror as he spoke.
‘Yes, yes,’ said Thóra, suppressing a yawn. ‘I’ll trade you.’
‘What?’ asked Hannes, taken aback.
‘You can have your best golf clubs back, in exchange for this information. I’ll never tell anyone where I got it, or use it against you,’ she said, then waited for his response. The golf clubs in question had fallen to her in the divorce settlement, and she had no use for them whatsoever. They weren’t annoying her; she would just be happy to get them out of her garage, where they’d been gathering dust ever since
Hannes moved out. She had once been adamant about getting them in the settlement, just because she knew how much Hannes wanted to keep them. He believed they were his lucky set, and had often mentioned them to Thóra since the divorce in the hope of getting them back.
‘It’s a good deal,’ she added. ‘I could easily get this information by other means, just a bit more slowly.’ Like most paragons of virtue, Hannes’s conviction was not so strong that he wouldn’t betray the sacred trust of his workplace for something he really wanted. Thóra had scored a hole in one.
By the end of the phone call she had all the information she needed about Alda’s temporary leave of absence from the A &E. It turned out Hannes never worked evenings or on weekends, so he hadn’t known the woman except by sight. He still knew all about the situation, which had been discussed a great deal at work. It hadn’t been drug abuse or intimate relations with a colleague or patient, but instead concerned a difference of professional opinion. Alda had turned against a rape victim, a girl she had treated after an alleged assault. As a follow-up, Alda was supposed to have been available to her as a kind of grief counsellor. At first, she had been a great help to the girl, and had done everything by the book. According to Hannes, the story went that Alda had supposedly taken this particular case to heart and stood firmly behind the girl. Then something happened that caused Alda to do a U-turn, and suddenly claim the girl was lying about the rape. Hannes didn’t know what had caused her to change her opinion, but he knew the nurse in charge of the Emergency Reception Unit had disagreed with Alda that the allegation was unfounded. According to her, Alda was having a nervous breakdown and was clearly not well enough to work. Alda was requested to take a leave of absence, which she did.
Hannes couldn’t remember the name of the girl or the alleged rapist. Thóra thought she knew who the latter was. It must have been Adolf Dadason. As well as Alda’s familiarity with Adolf’s parents, which could explain her change of heart, the time frame fitted. Also, Hannes mentioned that he had heard something about improper work ethics regarding patients in general, but he didn’t trust himself to repeat it, since it was unconfirmed and had happened after Alda went off on leave.
Before she let him go, Thóra also asked Hannes about Valgerdur’s autopsy report. Are you talking about what happened in Isafjördur?‘ he asked unexpectedly.
‘I might be,’ said Thóra, surprised. ‘Do you know something about it?’
‘Yes, a bit,’ he replied.‘It sounds like you mean the woman who apparently died in the Westfjords hospital there because of a medical error. There aren’t many cases like that, and obviously they always attract a great deal of attention within the medical community. The woman’s relatives have kept the case going in the hope of a malpractice suit and there’s litigation in progress, although a settlement hasn’t been reached. It’ll be interesting to see how it turns out.’
‘What actually happened?’ asked Thóra, since the only thing she’d understood from the report was that the woman had died after an allergic reaction to an antibiotic used to treat serious infections.
‘The woman was on a trip with the Icelandic Touring Association out west and contracted a serious streptococcus infection. Her fellow travellers didn’t respond quickly enough and, among other things, one of her legs had become gangrenous by the time she was transported to the hospital in Isafjördur. The staff there made the mistake of not asking her whether she was allergic to penicillin before starting treatment. I don’t know what kind of state she was in, actually, but they could have checked her history of allergies with a relative if she wasn’t able to respond. Anyway, she turned out to have a severe penicillin allergy which had been diagnosed when she was an adolescent, so this could have been prevented. Whether she would have survived the infection is another question, of course.’
‘But the hospital must have regulations covering these things,’ said Thóra. ‘Was her condition so bad that they thought they didn’t have time to call Reykjavik or ask her about it?’
‘There’s the rub,’ replied Hannes. ‘The woman had been admitted to that same hospital several decades before and in her medical record, which they had in their hands, there was no indication of any allergies, much less a hypersensitive allergy. So there was human error; not then, but many years earlier. Of course I’ve only heard about this and not read anything myself, but I understand the medical record states that the woman had been treated with penicillin when she was in the hospital the first time with no mention of her having fallen ill as a result.’
‘Can this allergy come and go?’asked Thóra.
‘No, absolutely not,’ he said.‘It was miswritten in the medical record, since they must have given her an antibiotic that didn’t contain penicillin. Or it’s possible she wasn’t even given an antibiotic at all, and that was the mistake in her records. I don’t remember how old she was supposed to have been when the first report was written, but she’d been diagnosed with the allergy long before that. No one is born with an allergy to this drug, but once it shows up it doesn’t disappear. Things would have gone differently if she’d been given the drug for the first time when she was admitted all those years ago, but that’s not important. She’d already been diagnosed, and even carried an allergy alert card in her wallet. You might think that the mistake they made was not looking for the card, but they say she didn’t have her wallet with her at the hospital.’
‘So she just died?’ exclaimed Thóra. ‘Can’t something be done in these cases?’
‘She suffocated when her trachea swelled shut,’ said Hannes casually, as if he were describing a runny nose. ‘Usually it’s possible to intervene but it proved impossible in this case, maybe because she was so ill before it happened. I don’t know the circumstances.’
‘How does one get hold of an autopsy report for an acquaintance, rather than a relative?’ she asked.
‘What? Don’t ask me, I don’t spend my time wondering about things like that. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, though. Only people with personal ties to an individual can get copies of the reports. You can’t just phone up and have it sent to you.’
‘One last thing – why isn’t there a universal database with information on allergies?’ asked Thóra.
‘That would be a great idea and it’s been discussed, but it hasn’t become a reality yet,’said Hannes. He was quick to turn to another, more important matter. ‘Are you at home? Can I come and get the golf clubs?’