Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Ashes To Dust

Thóra realized that the woman didn’t know why she’d asked to meet her. I didn’t ask to see you to discuss Alda’s tragic death.‘ She took a deep breath. ’I’m afraid I don’t know the circumstances so I can’t comment on it. I’m working for Markus, Leifur’s younger brother. He’s in a rather difficult position, you might say, because three bodies were found in the basement of his childhood home. Alda’s name came up in the investigation and I was hoping that you could either tell me something that might help Markus or point me towards someone who can.‘ Thóra stopped and waited for the woman’s reaction. She thought it highly likely that she would thank her abruptly and say goodbye.

Jóhanna looked at Thóra, apparently quite surprised. ‘Of course I’ve read the news and heard people talking about the bodies. It’s a hot topic here in town, understandably.’ She seemed slightly embarrassed as she continued.‘They said Markus was involved, but I thought it was just gossip since he hasn’t been mentioned in the papers. I’ve never heard Alda’s name mentioned, I’ve only heard that they were British people who had probably been murdered before the eruption.’

‘British?’ exclaimed Thóra. ‘Do you know where that story came from?’ Could her hypothesis about the Cod War have been correct?

‘I haven’t really tried to find out,’ replied the woman. ‘I’ve had other things to think about. But I seem to recall the autopsy uncovered that.’

Thóra stiffened. Was it possible that the majority of the town’s residents had heard about developments in the investigation before those involved had been given the information? She tried not to display any emotion, but she was itching to rush down to the police station and give Inspector Leifsson an earful. ‘I haven’t heard that so I don’t know if it’s correct,’ she said.‘Whether it’s true or not, the case is in the hands of the police and the investigation is still in its initial stages. As it is, I only have knowledge pertaining to my client, and Alda’s death was a hard blow for him to bear. She was privy to information that could have kept the investigation afloat and shed light on his innocence.’

Jóhanna shifted in her seat, breathing quickly, her pupils dilated. ‘Do you think that someone murdered her to keep her quiet?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘That must be the explanation.’ She placed one hand on her chin. ‘Could the man responsible for the deaths of the people in the basement have killed Alda?’

‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,’ said Thóra calmly. ‘As I said, I’m not sure how Alda’s death is connected to the case, if at all. I’m trying to figure that out.’ She didn’t want to say that this case might explain Alda’s suicide – if indeed she had committed suicide. Similar things had happened, when someone didn’t trust himself to stare his own misdeeds in the face, and instead chose the unknown. ‘It’s entirely possible that there is a connection. At the very least, it’s a strange coincidence.’

‘What do you want to know?’ asked Jóhanna resolutely. ‘I want to help in any possible way I can.’

Irritation at Leifur overwhelmed Thóra. If he had responded in the right way, she would have been, better prepared. She asked the first question that came to mind: ‘I know that you went with your mother and sister to the mainland the night of the eruption. Do you remember seeing Markus and Alda speaking to each other on board the ship?’

Jóhanna’s eyes widened.‘It’s strange, but I remember the sea voyage as if it happened yesterday. I was only seven years old but that night was an experience I’ve never been able to forget. I thought war had broken out.’

‘And did you happen to see whether Alda and Markus spoke?’ asked Thóra patiently.

‘Actually, I think I did,’ replied Jóhanna. ‘I held tightly to my mother’s hand on one side and to Alda’s on the other, and I remember I didn’t want to let go when she tried to walk away. I’m pretty sure that it was with Markus. They went off somewhere but I don’t know where, or how long they were gone. I just remember that I cried the whole time she was away, because I was sure she wouldn’t come back.’

‘Are you happy to declare this to the police?’ asked Thóra, trying to mask her delight. This was all going very well.

‘Yes, I think so,’ replied Jóhanna. ‘My mother might remember it too, and she’s probably a better witness, since she was older than me when it happened, naturally.’ She fiddled with her teaspoon on the saucer. ‘She’s not in any fit state for an interview at the moment, because of Alda, but she’ll get over it, hopefully. Dad died quite recently after a long struggle against cancer, so she’s suffered a lot this year.’

‘I understand,’ said Thóra. ‘I heard you moved to the Westfjords after the disaster. How was Alda at that time? I realize you were young, but do you remember whether she changed in any way? Did she behave differently or seem depressed at all?’

Jóhanna shook her head.‘No, I don’t think so. Alda went to boarding school soon after we moved west, so I didn’t see her much. Like everyone else in the family she’d been uprooted, so naturally she may not have been quite herself. I think Mother would know better than me.’

‘What school was she sent to?’Thóra asked. Maybe she could look up some of Alda’s schoolfriends.

‘I’m pretty sure it was Isafjördur Junior College,’ said Jóhanna.

Thóra tried not to reveal her surprise, but this didn’t sound right. ‘I understood from her girlfriends that she went to Reykjavik Junior College? Was that not the case?’

‘No, not at all,’ Jóhanna replied. ‘She changed schools in the autumn, wanting to be in Reykjavik rather than the west, since we’d all gone from there back to the Islands.’

This didn’t add up. How could Alda have started school in the middle of the winter term, a year above the one she should have been in? Markus had been the same age as Alda and her classmates, and he was still in secondary school the year of the eruption. ‘Was Alda a good student?’ she asked.

‘Yes, very good,’ said Jóhanna. ‘She was always incredibly conscientious and hard-working. She actually enjoyed learning. Not like me.’ She smiled, but it faded quickly. ‘It’s funny,’she said, although she didn’t look at all amused, ‘I’ve lain there thinking about what could have happened to Alda but it never crossed my mind that this could be connected to the bodies in the basement. I was so certain that it had something to do with her work at the A &E, that one of those disgusting rapists had broken into her house and killed her.’

‘Well, there’s no evidence that that’s what happened,’ said Thóra. ‘So maybe this case of the corpses is connected to Alda’s death in some way.’

‘Yes, I’m convinced it is,’said Jóhanna determinedly, crossing her arms.

Thóra knew that people who were grieving often held on to the slenderest threads of hope, clinging to illogical theories and explanations. It was a way to focus their minds on something other than the grief and guilt they would feel for the rest of their lives.

‘I’m sure the truth will come out,’ said Thóra, although she didn’t feel sure at all.‘These rapists you mentioned, did Alda have much contact with them? I would have thought she’d have dealt with the victims, not the perpetrators.’ Markus had told Thóra about Alda’s work for the Emergency Reception Unit.

‘When you put it like that, I suppose it doesn’t make much sense,’ replied Jóhanna. ‘To my knowledge she didn’t ever meet them, but I was imagining that one of them could somehow have found out her name and set out for revenge. She’s had to testify in at least two cases. She’d actually had enough, and she’d just resigned from the unit when this tragedy happened. Something came up at work that she never had time to tell me about. She was planning to fly here next weekend to stay with me, she said she needed to tell me something and wanted to do it face to face.’