‘I doubt that,’ said Thóra irritably, walking farther into the basement. ‘The objects were removed because this was an atypical crime scene. No one had been down here for thirty- four years, so there was no way of knowing what belonged to the home and what to the possible murderer.’ She looked around again. ‘They had to take everything with them, if only to be able to examine it under better conditions.’
‘Are we finished, then?’ asked Bella impatiently. ‘You said this would take no time.’
‘No, not at all,’ said Thóra. ‘I think there’s a storeroom here somewhere, and the police probably haven’t cleared it out.’ She shone her light on the walls, one after another. ‘Especially not if it’s sealed.’ She walked over to two doors that stood side by side in one corner. ‘If they’d wanted to remove everything from the house there wouldn’t be anything left on the ground floor. There could just as easily be something relevant up there.’
‘I’m not opening those doors,’ said Bella, and coughed again. The dust in the air had become extremely thick and every breath was accompanied by a foul taste like musty old books. ‘The body hasn’t been found.’ Despite this, Bella followed Thóra and took her place at her side.
‘Of course the police have already looked here,’ said Thóra. ‘It’s out of the question that the body is anywhere in this house, let alone in the basement.’ Nevertheless she felt her stomach muscles tighten. She grabbed the handle of one of the doors and opened it with her eyes closed. She stood for a moment in front of Bella, knowing that the secretary could not see her face. After a few seconds, when Bella still hadn’t kicked up the ashes and fled, Thóra knew it was safe to open her eyes. ‘It’s amazing the junk people put in their storerooms,’ she exclaimed, looking at the jumble of tyres, batteries, tools and unidentifiable spare parts. ‘The police have clearly moved things around,’ she added, pointing at white rings on the floor from where the tyres must previously have lain.
‘Do you think they’re here?’ asked Bella, poking her head through the doorway. ‘Those books and things?’
‘No,’ said Thóra, shaking her head. ‘Hardly. The stuff in this storeroom belongs more in a garage than a basement. I don’t imagine Magnus would have stored old books along with nuts and bolts.’ She used her torch to make sure there weren’t any hidden boxes or shelves where the items might possibly be found. ‘Let’s try the other door,’ she said, closing the first one. She couldn’t figure out whether she’d rather see boxes and other items hidden there, or nothing, which would mean they could get out of the basement. She opened the second door in the same way as the first. When she opened her eyes she knew they wouldn’t be leaving here any time soon. It was a full-sized storeroom with shelves on all the walls, each of them full of boxes and other things that weren’t fit for around the house but were important enough not to go in the bin.
‘Holy moly,’ said Bella. ‘Are you going to go through all of this?’ She followed Thóra into the storeroom and pointed at the imprint of a box in the dust on one of the shelves. ‘The police have obviously looked through this stuff, so I doubt there’s anything important hidden here.’
Thóra opened the first box. ‘This’ll be quick,’ she said distractedly, pointing her torch into the box. ‘We’re looking for books, a compass and money. Coins, I think.’
Bella sighed and walked to the shelf farthest from Thóra. ‘That’s easy for you to say,’ she said, picking up a child’s school cap. ‘It looks like everything’s all mixed up here.’ She reached for a frying pan. ‘What’s wrong with people?’ she asked. ‘Why don’t they throw away their rubbish?’
‘Times were different when these things were packed up,’ said Thóra, still examining the box in front of her. She found herself thinking about what was hidden in her own storeroom. She hoped her house would never be buried by ash, so that others would never rummage through her belongings later and make critical remarks. ‘People had to make do and mend, and most things were more expensive than they are now.’
‘What, even hair?’ said Bella. ‘Ugh.’
Thóra couldn’t stop to look at what Bella was grumbling about, since she thought she’d seen something that could be loose change glinting at the bottom of her box. ‘People still keep locks of their babies’ hair. It’s very common, although I don’t understand what one’s actually supposed to do with it,’ she said, as she reached a hand into the box. She pulled out two teaspoons, then let them fall back in. She closed the carton and turned to the next one.
‘This isn’t from a baby, I can tell you that,’ said Bella. ‘It can’t be.’
‘My mother has hair from her grandmother,’ said Thóra, adjusting her torch beam. ‘She could never bring herself to throw it away, and I believe she may take it with her to the grave.’ She was glad she’d brought Bella with her. If she’d been down here alone she wouldn’t have lasted long. Although the conversation wasn’t all that gripping, it helped her forget the foul air and the fear that the house might crash down on their heads. She aimed her torch into another box. At the top lay something lacy in a plastic bag that had once been clear but had started to yellow. Thóra pulled it out and saw that it was a christening gown. She set it aside and continued digging through all sorts of children’s clothing, for the most part homemade, either knitted or crocheted. At the bottom of the box were two books marked with gold letters: Baby’s First Year.
Thóra had been given a book like this as a gift when her son Gylfi was born and she had managed to write things in it during the first three months of his life. The book had then been forgotten and never used again. The box also contained various items such as plates for children, silverware and a large old-fashioned baby’s bottle. ‘I just have baby stuff,’ she told Bella. ‘Did you find anything besides locks of hair?’
‘An old bathing suit,’ said Bella. ‘I think it’s mouldy. It smells bad.’
Thóra was removing the last few things from the box, when she noticed the baby’s bottle was unusually heavy. She pointed the torch at it and saw there was something inside.
‘What’s this?’ she asked herself, unscrewing the top.
‘What?’ asked Bella, looking up from the bathing suit.
A small mallet dropped out of the bottle with a heavy thud. ‘Who would keep a salmon priest in a baby bottle?’ asked Thóra, grimacing.
‘A priest?’ said Bella.
‘Yes, a salmon priest. It’s the hammer a fisherman uses to stun the fish, after he’s caught it.’
‘What fucked-up religion do you belong to?’ said Bella, coming and looking over Thóra’s shoulder. ‘And what are those marks on it?’ The light was stronger now that there were two torches. It was a keen observation on Bella’s part: the copper mallet was covered with black spots.
‘It could very well be blood,’ mused Thóra. Was this the weapon the unidentified men in the basement had got to know first-hand? She put it to one side and picked up a little shoebox that contained several tiny pairs of shoes, and underneath them an ornate knife. ‘Look at this,’ she said.
Bella moved closer to her to get a better look, and when Thóra’s phone rang she gave a screech that cut through the oppressive silence. Thóra was equally startled, though she managed to suppress the scream that nearly burst out of her. She fumbled for the phone and answered it. ‘Thóra speaking,’ she said, affecting nonchalance. She hoped this wasn’t someone from the Islands, asking what she was up to.
‘Hi, this is Dís at the plastic surgery clinic,’ said the voice on the other end. ‘I have a small problem related to your investigation into Alda’s death.’
‘Really?’ asked Thóra, surprised and a little relieved not to have to make up an excuse for where she was.
‘Yes. I was hoping you could help me. I need a lawyer.’
Chapter Thirty
Sunday 22 July2007
Thóra stared at the paper in front of her. It was not yet eight o’clock. She wasn’t usually up and about this early, but tourists eager for a full day’s advent
ures had woken her with their clatter in the corridor at around seven, and she hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. She had jumped into the shower and sat down at the little desk in her room in the hope of working out the facts of the case. This was easier said than done, and Dís’s phone call the night before hadn’t done anything to make it easier. Dís hadn’t wanted to say anything except that she had information that needed to be shared with the police. However, her own interests compelled her to speak to a lawyer first; she’d had only Thóra’s number, so had called her. Thóra explained to Dís that she couldn’t help her since she was Markus’s lawyer and he was the only suspect in the case. She asked if Dís would like to speak to Bragi and Dís had taken Bragi’s number. When Thóra spoke to him later in the evening, Bragi had told her to prepare herself for new information to appear in Markus’s case very soon. He did not say what this information was, and Thóra knew better than to interrogate him about it. He was obligated to protect his client’s confidentiality. Thóra had to ask him one thing, though - whether the information in question was likely to be positive or negative for Markus. Bragi had thought it over for a long time but replied that he hadn’t actually worked that out yet. If forced to choose, he would say more positive than negative.
Thóra turned back to the paper in front of her and pushed Dís and her mysterious information from her mind. There was no point wondering about that now; all would become clear after the weekend. She lifted her pen. Of everything that she had dug up, how much of it was connected to the case? She lined up the events chronologically in the hope of being able to piece it all together, and then ran down the scribbles on the page one more time.
A damaged fishing smack comes to the Islands 19 January, anchors at the pier, moves berths and then leaves during the night. Paddi the Hook watches it sail away.
Teenagers, among them Alda and Markus, get drunk at a school dance that same night. Magnus, Markus’s father, goes to fetch him. Alda probably walks home. Something bad happens to Alda, which she describes indirectly in her diary.
Magnus and Dadi ‘Horseshoe’ are seen down at the harbour that night. A lot of blood is found on the pier the following morning, where the smack was originally moored.
Detective Gudni is called to the scene. He is told of Dadi’s presence at the harbour, but not that Magnus was with him.
Dadi denies having been involved in anything illegal and states that he knows nothing about any blood.
Four men, most likely British, are beaten to death - unclear exactly when.
Leifur returns to the Islands to scold his brother for his drinking.
Alda gives Markus the box, and asks him to store it for her. She is in a frantic state.
Eruption during the night.
The residents flee to the mainland, some of them on fishing vessels, and Alda asks Markus what he did with the box. He tells her.
Magnus and his partner Thórgeir, Alda’s father, return to the Islands to salvage their possessions. Magnus mostly empties his family home, although not the basement.
Alda, her mother and her sister move to the Westfjords, where she supposedly attends Isafjördur Junior College - suddenly one year ahead of her previous school year. However, no one at the school has a record of her attendance there.
Markus’s mother and her children move to Reykjavik.
Valgerdur and Dadi move west, settle in the vicinity of Holmavik. There they finally have a child. She wants little to do with the child - perhaps she suffers from post-partum depression?
Some time during the first two weeks of the eruption, the bodies are moved to the basement.
Magnus buys up Thórgeir’s shares in the fishing company and continues to run the business alone. He acquires a processing plant for peanuts and lands his catch in the Islands, despite the continuing eruption.
Markus attends Reykjavik Junior College.
Alda is registered at the same school, but for home attendance until after the new year. Markus meets her again for the first time since the eruption and they do not discuss the box.
Alda studies nursing.
Markus marries and divorces, has one son. Markus does not work for his father’s company. Maintains his friendship with Alda.
Leifur, Markus’s brother, takes over the family business when their father becomes ill. He has worked there since completing his studies in business.
When plans are made to excavate Markus’s parents’ house, Alda asks Markus to prevent it, but keeps this secret from her sister.
Alda takes a leave of absence from the A&E.
Alda familiarizes herself with Valgerdur’s autopsy report.
Alda for some reason keeps a picture of a tattoo bearing the words ‘Love Sex’, as well as a picture of an unidentified young man.
Alda has links to pornographic websites on her computer and is seeing a sex therapist.
Markus does what he can to prevent the excavation of his childhood home but settles for being allowed to get the box from the basement after Alda consents to this arrangement. He travels to the Islands.
Alda is murdered.
Markus finds the bodies in the basement and a man’s head in the box.
A possible murder weapon is found in a box with children’s clothes, also in the basement.
Thóra put down the paper and tried unsuccessfully to recall more details that might possibly make a difference. She also tried to determine how much of this might be unconnected to the murder, but couldn’t actually think of anything. It was the same as with the items in the storeroom - if she crossed something off the list it would probably turn out to be the vital clue. She sighed and tried to concentrate. Could Alda have killed the men? It didn’t matter how hard Thóra tried to imagine such an attack, with the men rolling drunk and the teenage Alda in a murderous frenzy with a salmon priest on the pier - it didn’t add up. What was she supposed to have done with the bodies after such a horrific deed? Thóra didn’t know any teenage girl who had the strength to struggle with the body of a full-grown man, still less if she had had to make four trips. If they’d been murdered in the basement, things would look different. Then Alda wouldn’t have needed to move the bodies at all. This, however, did not fit, since the murders were committed before the eruption. At least, Markus had put the box with the man’s head there before it happened. In addition, there were burn marks on the men’s clothing, which suggested that they had been out in the open after the tephra had started to rain down. And Alda had left the Islands by then. Thóra felt the blood on the pier must be connected to this.
Where was the body that was missing its head? It would probably never be found, since it hadn’t turned up during the last thirty-four years, even during the excavation. They had already dug up all the houses that they planned to salvage from the ash, so there was no hope of finding anything new that way. In addition, hundreds of houses had been buried beneath lava during the eruption, so the body in question could be inside one of them, and thus gone forever. Then again that could hardly be the case, because why would the murderer or murderers have moved only one of the bodies from house to house? Why move the others from a house that was about to be buried by lava to one that was being buried under ash? She was certain of one thing - if she herself had needed to get rid of a body under such circumstances, she would have chosen the house that would end up under lava. And then, of course, it was possible that the men had not been murdered in the Islands after all, despite the blood on the pier. Perhaps the murderers didn’t have ties to the Islands or the Westmann Islanders, but instead were outsiders who had transported the bodies there to hide them. Thóra sighed thoughtfully. If so, it had been a bad plan.
No, everything suggested that Markus’s father was the key to the case, not people from the mainland. If the bodies were put there without his knowledge, the murderer would hardly have hidden the mallet and knife in a box in the nearest storeroom, nor left these possible murder weapons next to the bodies. Thóra tried to imagine how Magnus might have played
a part in all of this. Maybe he and Dadi had ended up in a scuffle with the crew of the smack, killed the men and brought their bodies to the basement. But that didn’t fit with Paddi seeing the smack sail away. Could it be that the paths of these men had crossed out at sea rather than on land, and the blood had ended up on the pier when Magnus and Dadi were dragging the bodies ashore? Thóra frowned. Could the two of them, Magnus and Dadi, have sailed Magnus’s ship? She had no idea how many people were needed to handle a boat that size. They would never have managed to get a whole crew of men to keep quiet about something like this. Of course Thóra had seen the ship in a painting at Leifur’s house, but that image told her precisely nothing, since she had never even pissed in the sea, much less seen how a fishing operation worked. The trip with Bella and Paddi the Hook could hardly be counted. This led her to something else: if the bodies belonged to the crew of the British smack, then where was the boat?
An unexpected thud came from the door of Thóra’s room, snapping her out of her reverie. The sound came again, but now it was clearly a knock. Thóra stood up and went to the door, where she was flabbergasted to see Bella, dressed and ready to go.
‘I’m ready,’ said Bella. She looked at Thóra and appeared to be unhappy with her boss, who wasn’t dressed yet. ‘I couldn’t sleep because my room was too quiet.’
Thóra looked at the clock and saw that it was almost eight. ‘I’m coming,’ she said apologetically. ‘Would you like to go down to breakfast and get us a table?’ She handed Bella the page with her summary of events. ‘You can look over this while you wait. A second set of eyes.’ It was apparent from the young woman’s expression that she had never heard this idiom before.
‘I’ll be down in ten minutes,’ said Thóra, smiling as she closed the door on her secretary.
‘Can’t I have the list a bit longer?’ asked Bella, sipping the black coffee she’d poured for herself. Thóra couldn’t count the number of sweet rolls that had disappeared into the girl as they ate their breakfast.
Ashes to Dust Page 31
