Yrsa Sigurdardóttir - The Day Is Dark

‘You hated her.’ Friðrikka had moved away from the window and now sat at the table, leaning forwards over the tabletop, which was covered with circular coffee cup stains.

‘What is wrong with you?’ Eyjólfur was still sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, his legs stretched out. Their argument was brief but had progressed more quickly than usual from silly remarks to earnest conflict. ‘I didn’t hate her. You’re nuts. I hardly knew her.’ The young man stared at Friðrikka’s back as if he would dearly love to throw something at her. ‘Who are you to talk about hate? As far as I recall, you hated Arnar yourself! You can pretend all you want in front of this lot, but you hated his guts!’

‘Shut your fucking mouth!’ She nearly screamed the last word. ‘Why should I have hated him? I felt sorry for him. You were awful to him.’

‘Oh, shut up. I wasn’t anything to anybody. You might not have joined in tormenting him, but you did nothing to help, just went along with it and laughed at everything, as long as Oddný Hildur didn’t see. If she was nearby you made sure you didn’t smile.’

‘Shut up yourself! I never laughed. I might not have been as brave as Oddný Hildur, but I didn’t encourage it. That’s bullshit. And it’s bullshit that I hated Arnar, just like everything else that comes out of your mouth. What reason did I have to hate him? He never did anything to me.’ Friðrikka turned abruptly and glared at Eyjólfur. ‘No, if anybody hated anyone here, it was you guys. You hated Oddný Hildur for reporting you to the owner for harassment. I wasn’t reported.’

‘You hated Arnar because Oddný Hildur was disappointed by how you treated him.’ Eyjólfur clenched his teeth and his jaw muscles bulged. This made his youthful face appear more mature and gave him the appearance of the adult that he would change into over time. ‘And I wasn’t reported either, just so we’re both clear on that.’

Thóra yawned discreetly. Their bickering was dying down, as she had hoped it would when she had made the decision not to intervene. ‘That’s enough, you two,’ she said, without much conviction.

‘I can’t just sit here and take this,’ said Friðrikka, looking to Thóra for support. She obviously hoped to find an ally in another female. She was wrong.

‘You started it, as far as I recall,’ said Thóra as indifferently as before. She was hungry again and envied Matthew, who had managed to fall asleep sitting next to her. Finnbogi seemed about to follow his example.

‘Yes, but…’ Friðrikka appeared to give up the fight. She looked angrily at Thóra and flopped back over the table. ‘Dóri and Bjarki hated Oddný Hildur. There’s no question about it.’

‘Jesus!’ Eyjólfur’s jaw had dropped. ‘I can’t believe you’d talk shit about people who aren’t here to defend themselves. Mind you, that’s just your style, so I don’t know why I’m so surprised.’ Neither of them had been told about the discovery of the body parts and it didn’t look like there would be any need to do so today, since they all seemed fated to hang around in this sainted meeting room forever.

‘What difference does it make whether they’re here or not?’ Friðrikka got up again. The buzz of the fluorescent lights intensified and one of them started blinking – not exactly the best thing for calming frazzled nerves. ‘They hated her for reporting them, and if she hadn’t disappeared they would have switched their bullying to her. Don’t try to deny it.’

‘Christ.’ Eyjólfur shook his head angrily. ‘I’m not having that. How do you know what would have gone on if this, that or the other had happened?’

‘That’s enough of your bloody bickering. Listening to the two of you makes me want to puke.’ Bella stood up and slammed her fist on the table. The Solitaire cards jumped and scattered. Eyjólfur and Friðrikka looked sheepishly at the furious secretary. ‘Keep your fucking mouths shut if you can’t talk to each other like normal people.’ She flung herself dramatically back down into her chair and gathered the cards. Then she started another round of Solitaire as if nothing had happened.

Thóra smiled to herself, but her amusement was short-lived. How exactly would things end up if they had to stay here much longer? The police would doubtless find other deaths to investigate. She looked around and tried to imagine what it would have been like to work here. To be stuck with your co-workers for weeks, never to be able to get away, to have to be around them regardless of what mood she was in. When you added conflict to the mix, as had obviously been the case here, it must have been a real trial. Maybe it was out of old habit that Eyjólfur and Friðrikka were always arguing. Maybe they knew no other pattern of communication.

Suddenly the floodlights came on outside. Thóra stood up and went to the window, more to have something different to do than out of any raging curiosity. The lights had been going on and off regularly due to the police driving in and out of the camp. What they were doing, Thóra didn’t know, but she guessed they were still searching for the missing body parts. Although it was dark outside now, so perhaps it wasn’t that, but either way something was going on; maybe they had business in the village, since they must at least have wanted to question the young woman and the hunter’s son. And of course the hunter himself. Maybe they were looking for him everywhere. Thóra watched a car drive up to the cafeteria. As she had thought, it was the police.

‘I’d do anything for a cup of coffee.’ Alvar ran his finger around one of the stains on the tabletop. ‘At the very least we should be able to have something to drink, seeing as how we can’t even help out.’

Thóra turned to him. ‘Shall I check and see whether we can get something from them?’ She longed to get out of the room even for just a few minutes. The fresh air would rejuvenate her and help her survive the night. ‘I’d really like a cup of coffee myself.’ She was glad that Matthew and the doctor were sleeping, otherwise one of them would have gone. She walked slowly to the door so as not to wake them, and carefully opened it onto the corridor. There she drew a deep breath, happy to be free of the room’s stale air. But it wasn’t until she went out onto the landing that her lungs got what they desired. She stood there for a few moments and enjoyed feeling the cold air stream into her. Then she set off, making sure not to walk too quickly, so she could relish her freedom for as long as possible. Her happiness was short-lived. When she walked around the corner of the building she was so startled that her stored-up energy vanished into the cold night. Up against the gable stood the hunter. Thóra would have missed him if he hadn’t spoken softly to her as she walked past. He had positioned himself behind a snowdrift that had formed near the wall of the building. He had probably found his chance to sneak into the camp when the police car set off the floodlights.

The man was far from being invisible or looking like he’d be capable of disappearing into his surroundings, but he seemed in some unfathomable way to assimilate with them, so that anyone not focused solely on searching for him would never notice him. Perhaps it was because he was so completely motionless. ‘The police are probably looking for you.’ Thóra’s voice was shrill with shock, but she could do nothing about it.

‘We’re all looking for something. I’m also looking – although not for myself.’ The man did not seem to move a muscle. ‘I’m looking for my daughter. The people here moved her and I have to know where she was laid to rest.’

Of everything that had happened in the camp this was the worst thing he could ask about. Thóra felt a lump in her throat. Oh, you mean her – yes, she was moved from her grave into some desk drawers . ‘I don’t have her.’ She could think of nothing better to say.