The Day is Dark

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The Day is Dark Page 24

by Yrsa Sigurdardottir


  ‘That may well be, but bird flu didn’t kill the drillers,’ said Thóra resolutely. ‘Firstly, where are their bodies, if they died of a disease? And secondly, there are no birds here. At least, none that I’ve seen.’

  ‘They could have eaten infected poultry.’ The doctor turned to Matthew. ‘Let’s go and take a look. It doesn’t matter, we’ve already been in there, so we can hardly do any more damage than has been caused already.’

  Matthew gave in. But when the plastic cover was pulled from the body in the freezer, it was clear that bird flu wasn’t the cause of death. He had such a large hole in his chest that they could see right through it to the blue-tiled floor.

  Chapter 24

  22 March 2008

  The hotel in Kulusuk would never be listed among the finest in the world, but it was clean and tidy and, most importantly, it had a shower. Thóra hoped the hot water wasn’t too expensive, because it was impossible for her to drag herself away from the jet. The soap foamed on the enamelled shower floor as Thóra tried to scrub off the imaginary film that had seemed to cover her entire body. To her it felt as though the revulsion she’d experienced at the work site had clung to her and refused to leave. If she could just wash it off, she could also wipe away the memory of the hole in the body of that poor man, lying in a freezer at the ends of the earth. She knew it was just an illusion caused by fatigue and hunger but that didn’t stop her from scouring her body over and over again. Finally she had no energy for more; she put down the soap and stood with her eyes closed, letting the water play over her. However, she couldn’t stay there under the shower until they were permitted to leave the country, so in the end Thóra composed herself and turned off the water. She wrapped herself in a large towel, her body steaming wherever her bare flesh showed. She quickly got goosebumps from the cool air flowing in through the bathroom window, which thankfully she had left open, otherwise she would be in a sauna now. As she rubbed most of the water from her hair she looked into the bedroom and saw Matthew lying asleep on the turned-down bed. So that was the reason he hadn’t come to see what was taking her so long in the shower. It was late in the evening and the hour they had been given to rest before coming down to the dining room for supper was long past. Not that supper was really the right word – midnight snack was more like it. The day seemed as if it would never end, and they had either forgotten or not had time to eat in the afternoon. Since returning to the office building from the freezer so much had happened that details like food were neglected.

  The police had turned up about an hour after Thóra, Matthew and Finnbogi returned from their scientific expedition to the freezer. Thóra had been so shocked to see what was beneath the plastic that she’d had to lie down in the meeting room when they got there. Now she regretted not having waited outside as Matthew had advised her to do while they inspected the corpse. The hole through the body had been so surreal that it took her a long time to accept what she saw over Matthew and Finnbogi’s shoulders. The wound was relatively clean and the edges not all ragged as she would have thought would be the case with such an injury. Strangely, it was the fact that the hole was so clean that made it so horrendous; the man was like a cartoon character who had been shot through with a cannonball, except that there was nothing funny about it. Thóra wasn’t alone in finding it all rather unpleasant; not a trace of a smile appeared on the lips of the policemen who came from Angmagssalik.

  As Thóra dressed in a skirt and elegant blouse, which she hoped would be all right since they were in a hotel, she recalled how the policemen had questioned them. Five of them came on the same helicopter that had transported the group to the area, and the helicopter was made to wait. Two of them were pilots, the others police officers: two Greenlanders and the third a Dane. One of the Greenlanders questioned Thóra and although he had been extremely courteous, Thóra could have done without going through this particular experience. She’d been present at interrogations several times before, but always in the role of duty solicitor. Actually it was interesting to be interrogated, although she probably would not appreciate it until some time had passed. She had behaved precisely like most of her clients, getting over-excited and trying too eagerly to assist them and prove that she’d done nothing wrong. Throughout the questioning she was wholly convinced that the police officer suspected her of having murdered the man in the freezer, and of being responsible for both the bones in the office and the disappearance of the three Icelanders. All because she felt guilty for having re-entered the freezer against their instructions. Thóra had trusted herself completely to avoid answering if asked what they’d done after phoning the police, but she was worried about Finnbogi. Matthew would never admit their minor transgression, but she knew the doctor well enough to guess how he would react under such pressure.

  In the end Thóra had recalled her own advice to those whom she assisted in such circumstances – answer only what is asked. Moreover, she had added nothing, and simply stared at the desk between her and the officer after replying to his questions. On the table lay several of the objects that they had found on the drilling rig, which Matthew had handed over as soon as the police appeared. Thóra had asked the policeman if he had any idea whether they were connected to the case, and the man had shrugged and told her that they were obviously old relics and it was unlikely to be relevant. For example, he told her, pointing to the bone with the two drilled holes and the leather strap, these were the goggles hunters used to wear to protect their eyes against snowblindness. No one used them now, as they were much clumsier than modern snow goggles. Thóra could understand that; she would have to have been blinded in both eyes by the snow before she wore a contraption like that. After the questioning she felt greatly relieved as she returned to the meeting room, where they had been told to wait. She had neither been questioned about what they had done while waiting for the police nor about how many times they had gone into the freezer. The questions mainly concerned what business they had there, what they had learned and why they hadn’t made contact with the police until that morning.

  Thóra had explained that the telephone connection had been out and that the Greenlandic police had been informed about the situation before she and her colleagues set off on their trip, but had not seen fit to come to the work camp, to which the man replied that they had more important things to deal with than searching for missing persons in the mountains; these cases were not usually their business, though they did officially register them. Thóra and her colleagues, however, should have got in touch with them when they found the human bones in the office. Then it would have been clear to everyone that this case was about more than a few Icelanders getting lost in a snowstorm. Thóra had justified their decision by saying that the bones hadn’t seemed that significant, since everyone could see that they were ancient. They had thus thought it sufficient to notify the police about them after making phone contact, and that is what they had done. Moreover, she had said triumphantly, they had left the bones more or less undisturbed so as not to spoil the police investigation. The Greenlander had then looked at Thóra as if she were an idiot and told her that the bones were far from ancient. Although they still needed to be examined by a specialist, it was clear that the individual to whom they belonged was from this generation. Thóra had been flabbergasted and asked why he thought this; the police officer informed her that there were two dental implants in the woman’s lower jaw. So it was out of the question that this skull was from a past generation. Thóra’s only response to this information was: ‘Oh.’ Dr Finnbogi was apparently not quite as smart as he pretended to be. Or in any case, he had completely missed the false teeth.

  Thinking back on it, she recalled that Finnbogi had focused on the skull itself and for the most part neglected the lower jaw. His determination of the gender of the individual had mattered more than its teeth. If what the policeman said was true, it was still possible that the bones belonged to Oddný Hildur. Maybe the doctor had simply been wrong about their age. Thóra recalle
d that he had based his opinion on how clean the bones were, but it was conceivable that external factors had caused the corpse to decompose faster than usual. She doubted this, however. Oddný Hildur had disappeared earlier that winter and it was unlikely that the temperature had ever climbed above freezing since then. Maybe wild animals had picked clean the bones, but then the jawbone would likely not have been found with the skull, as Dr Finnbogi had said. In any case, one thing was certain: if these were the bones of Oddný Hildur, the employees of Berg Technology were a bunch of weirdos. Thóra had decided not to ask Friðrikka whether her friend had had any crowns, fearing that the question would cause the woman to break down completely. It was a miracle that Friðrikka had pretty much held it together while the police performed their duties; Thóra had doubted she’d bear up under interrogation. And when it came to it she’d actually felt the same about Eyjólfur; the young man had paced the floor of the meeting room while waiting his turn, muttering that he knew nothing about this and shouldn’t have come. Throughout all this, the fluorescent light kept on flickering. None of it, however, seemed to disturb Bella. She even appeared to be rather looking forward to her turn. Thóra was thankful that they had told the others they were only going to fetch water from the cafeteria, since she could rely on Bella to tell the police everything just to get her boss into trouble.

  Now Matthew stirred slightly as he sensed Thóra’s presence. ‘What time is it? I’m dying of hunger.’

  Thóra sat on the edge of the bed and patted his belly. ‘It’s late. We missed supper.’

  Matthew opened one eye. ‘Are you kidding?’ Thóra shook her head. Matthew shut his eye again and rearranged his pillow. ‘Then I’ll just die here.’

  ‘There must be something available. It’s not as if we can pop over to the café next door and have a hot dog. The hotel must have sandwiches or something.’ Thóra poked him in the ribs. ‘Come on, let’s check it out, have a snack and then go to sleep. Or to bed, anyway. You won’t regret it.’

  ‘Sounds good.’ Matthew sat up. ‘Can I shower?’

  ‘Sorry. I think I’ve used up all the hot water on the east coast of Greenland. Maybe in the whole country.’ Thóra stood up. Her entire body and soul were feeling much more refreshed. ‘We won’t be long, and then you can hop in the shower afterwards.’ She knew he’d been craving a bath for days. ‘We’ll be really quick. I promise.’

  The food wasn’t all that good, but Matthew and Thóra were so hungry that they gulped it down as if they hadn’t seen anything edible for days. The dining room had been empty so they’d thrown themselves on the mercy of the bartender, who had his hands full serving drinks to Alvar, Bella and Eyjólfur. The young man very helpfully offered to check whether there was anything to eat in the kitchen. He returned with five pots of yoghurt, a banana, a loaf of bread and some slices of ham. He apologised that there were no leftovers remaining from supper, but Thóra thought this was fair enough under the circumstances.

  After Thóra had scraped the last bit of yoghurt from her second pot and only the end crust was left of the bread, she suddenly found she was craving alcohol. ‘Let’s go over to the bar, I need a drink.’

  ‘What about my shower?’ Matthew was still finishing his third bowl of yoghurt. ‘I have to wash. I’m starting to disgust myself.’ He looked towards the bar where their three colleagues were sitting. ‘You go ahead while I go up and shower. I’ll come back down when I’m finished. You’ll be one glass ahead of me but I’ll catch up.’ He put down his teaspoon and stood up. ‘I’ll be in much better shape once I’m clean.’

  Thóra went over and sat next to Eyjólfur. Bella was between him and Alvar, and Thóra was glad not to be too close to the latter. He looked like he was brooding, and was downing beer at impressive speed. ‘You’re looking very lovely,’ said Eyjólfur, glancing appreciatively at Thóra’s legs as she lifted herself onto the high stool. ‘I’d forgotten there was other clothing besides trousers.’

  Thóra did not appreciate his drawing attention to her outfit. She ordered a glass of white wine. ‘Aren’t you all tired?’ she asked. ‘I can’t remember ever having felt so exhausted.’

  ‘Then you haven’t lived much,’ muttered Alvar, without looking at her. He was staring straight ahead at the bottles of alcohol on the shelves behind the bar, apparently hypnotized by the gleam of the glass. ‘Was that meant to be an insult?’ said Eyjólfur. He nudged Thóra with his elbow. ‘Aren’t you going to fight back?’

  ‘Oh, I can’t be bothered.’ Thóra had no interest in bickering with a foul-tempered drunk in some bar in Greenland. ‘Do you recall whether Oddný Hildur had two dental crowns in her lower jaw?’

  ‘Are you kidding?’ Eyjólfur put down his glass. He could see Thóra’s question had been sincere. ‘No, but I didn’t really ever have a close look at her teeth.’

  ‘Would you be able to tell?’ Bella interrupted, yawning. ‘I mean, you can often see someone’s top teeth, but not always the bottom ones.’

  Of course, thought Thóra, dental implants were more noticeable when people smiled and revealed the gums above them. In fact she remembered having been at a club in Ibiza when she was younger, where the UV lighting used on the dance floor had made it advisable for people with porcelain crowns to smile as little as possible. ‘You never went with her to a club or anything like that?’

  Eyjólfur laughed. ‘Me at a club with Oddný Hildur? Christ, no. I never saw her outside of work.’ His smile vanished. ‘What sort of question is that, anyway? Did they find some teeth?’

  ‘No, no. I’m just curious.’ The white wine was ice-cold and was going down very easily. It was a shame there wasn’t any decent food to have with it. ‘Where are Friðrikka and Finnbogi?’ She wanted to drop the subject of the teeth with him, but also to find out whether she would get a chance to ask Friðrikka about them. She’d have to be more subtle than she’d been just now, though, so Friðrikka wouldn’t read anything into the question.

  ‘The doctor was going to go to bed, but Friðrikka went for a walk.’ Alvar emptied a nearly half-full glass in one go and ordered another beer. Thóra was willing to bet that it was his fifth or sixth in a row. He was talking up a storm, compared to how quiet he was normally.

  ‘A walk?’ asked Thóra in surprise. ‘It’s the middle of the night. Is it even possible to take walks here? And why hasn’t she come back?’

  Eyjólfur leaned round on the bar to look Alvar in the face. ‘You spoke to her – what time did she leave?’

  Alvar seemed upset at having to take part in the conversation just when the bartender had poured him a brand new beer. ‘Not that long ago. Half an hour, an hour. She just wanted to have a stroll in the area around the hotel. There’s a full moon and the sky is clear, so she’s hardly in any danger.’ He spoke in a rush, gulping at his beer as soon as he’d finished. Half the liquid in the glass disappeared into him.

  ‘Aren’t you on the rescue squad?’ said Bella scornfully. ‘I wouldn’t call you if I got lost.’

  ‘And I wouldn’t search for you if you did.’ Alvar slammed the glass down on the bar. It looked like he really wanted to storm off in a huff, but that would have meant leaving the bar. So he just sat there stiffly. Bella was unconcerned. ‘Maybe she came back without us noticing.’ She drew a finger down her damp glass, leaving a broad streak on its slippery surface.

  ‘Maybe.’ Eyjólfur seemed sceptical. ‘God, I’m dying to get online. There’s no wireless or DSL connection in the rooms but the girl in reception pointed me to a computer with an Internet connection in the lobby. This is the longest I’ve been offline since the Internet was invented, I think.’

  ‘Were you even born then?’ Thóra sipped her wine. She was looking forward to Matthew’s return; the conversation at the bar could only improve once he joined in. She carried on before Eyjólfur could defend himself. ‘Did you definitely make a copy of the entire computer system?’

  ‘Yes, and the contents of most of the PCs. It’ll be almost like sitt
ing in the office building at the camp except that you’ll have a view of something other than snow while you go over the data.’ Eyjólfur looked up at the ceiling. ‘I can’t wait to get home. Shouldn’t we just ignore this travel ban and take the next plane out of here? The cops are still at the site, so who’s going to stop us? It’s not as if we’ve done anything wrong.’

  ‘It isn’t the most popular airport in the world. I’m sure the police have let their colleagues there know that we aren’t allowed to leave the country.’ Thóra smiled at him. ‘Otherwise I’d be there like a shot too.’

  The bartender suddenly stopped washing glasses in the sink behind the raised bar and looked towards reception. The four guests fell silent and turned to follow his gaze. They heard a door shut and a moment later Friðrikka appeared in the doorway, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She walked over to them and as she drew nearer they felt a cold draught. ‘I thought you’d all be asleep.’

  ‘And we thought you were lost.’ Eyjólfur lifted his glass and toasted her. ‘I see that the search parties are just as motivated as they were when Oddný Hildur disappeared.’

  Friðrikka pulled off her gloves and stuck them in her jacket pocket. ‘When were you going to start the search, tomorrow morning?’ she said. ‘Or tomorrow night, even?’

 

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