Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Ashes To Dust

‘She was going to come here?’asked Thóra. ‘From talking to her childhood girlfriends, I thought she never came back after the evacuation.’

‘That’s true, she didn’t,’ agreed Jóhanna.‘The eruption affected her so badly that she never trusted herself to return. Also she was at school, and worked every summer. I’m not sure that it was a conscious decision of hers, it just turned out that way. She might have wanted to cut her ties to the Westmann Islands, although she never said anything like that to me. What was really tragic was that after the disaster, kids from the Islands never wanted to say where they came from. We were looked down on and made to feel as if we were parasites feeding off the rest of the country. You can’t accuse

Icelanders of being sensitive to the needs of others, even their own countrymen. Their compassion doesn’t reach very far. Alda might have wanted to put some distance between herself and the Islands because of that.‘

Thóra doubted that was the reason. It seemed more likely that whatever had led Alda to ask Markus to hide the severed head had made it impossible for her to imagine returning to the area.‘This thing she wanted to discuss with you, did she say what it was about?’ she asked.

Jóhanna shook her head.‘She was being a bit weird about it. She said she should’ve sat down with me a long time ago to get it off her chest.’ She stopped, seeming on the verge of tears. ‘That’s how I know she didn’t kill herself; she wouldn’t have done it before we had a chance to talk. She was so insistent that we meet face to face, she couldn’t tell me on the phone.’

‘When did you hear from her last?’ asked Thóra.

‘The day before she died she phoned to tell me that she’d bought her ticket, and she seemed happier than she’d been in the previous phone call.’ Jóhanna rubbed at her right eye. ‘It was as if she’d received good news or had a load taken off her shoulders. I don’t know what had happened.’

Thóra suspected that what had cheered Alda up was the knowledge that Markus was going to remove the head from the basement. She must have been nervous while the status of the excavation was still unclear, which would explain her mental state in those conversations with her sister. When it looked as if everything was going to work out she had felt happy again, but this lasted only a short time before everything went as badly as it possibly could. ‘Hopefully it will all become clear,’she soothed.

‘She said one thing I didn’t understand,’ said Jóhannathoughtfully. ‘She asked me under what circumstances I would get a tattoo. She was in such a good mood that it didn’t seem to matter to her that I couldn’t answer the question. And then there was some rigmarole about how one should be careful of judging others and that she wouldn’t make that mistake again. She said she would explain it all the following weekend, but I felt like the tattoo question was somehow connected to her cheerfulness.’

‘Tattoo?’ Thóra frowned. How could something like that be relevant to all this?

Thóra was pleased with Bella. The young woman stood at her side, her arms crossed over her chest and a thunderous look on her face that was making even Inspector Leifsson squirm in his seat.‘It absolutely beggars belief that one should hear of developments in a police investigation out on the street,’ continued Thóra.‘Since you’re in charge of the station, and since the information must originally have come from here, I have no choice but to hold you responsible for the leak.’ The thundercloud next to her nodded its head emphatically.

Gudni was completely silent for a moment, as was his wont. He rocked back and forth in his chair and then leaned forwards, placing his elbows on the desk. ‘I haven’t leaked anything,’he said calmly. ‘Six police officers work here in addition to me, not to mention the receptionist and the cleaner. Any one of them could have blurted something out without me having had anything to do with it. So you’d better think twice before you start accusing me of a breach of confidence.’

‘Accusing you?’ snapped Thóra. ‘I’m not accusing you of anything. I’ve come here to demand a copy of the autopsy report, which I understand you have. I wish to inform myself of its contents first-hand rather than relying on street gossip.’

‘I understand,’ said Gudni quietly. He was clearly unhappy about this new development, but trying not to show it. Thóra noticed some small muscles twitching around his mouth.

‘I don’t have any objection to you seeing the documents. Should I check and see what the book says about such things?’

‘Kindly do so,’ she replied, knowing he wouldn’t have the first idea where to look for the laws regulating access to files in a criminal case. She actually doubted that a copy of the relevant regulations existed in Gudni’s office, and he probably wouldn’t even know where to find them on the Internet.

‘But I don’t see what purpose it will serve,’ said Gudni, as he stood up. He picked up some papers stapled together in one corner and waved them at her. ‘No doubt you’ll get hold of this soon enough, because I have trouble believing that Markus won’t be arrested very soon. The autopsy does not look good for him.’

‘How do you mean?’ asked Thóra. She longed to tear the report from the man’s hands and start reading it.

‘I mean that it provides, for the first time, clear evidence that these men were murdered. In other words, this is now a murder investigation. In addition, the report contains indications of the men’s nationality. They are probably British, and contact has already been made with the British police, asking them to investigate who these men might have been. So no doubt this case will soon be all over the British newspapers, and when that happens I can promise you that the police department will be a hive of activity, and the demand for answers will ensure that Markus will be taken into custody. He is the only suspect we have at this stage.’ Gudni stared straight at Thóra. ‘The autopsy does not implicate Alda.’

‘No, we didn’t expect it to,’ said Thóra. Although she was disappointed, Gudni did have a point. She sighed deeply. The only people who could have explained things and cleared Markus’s name were either dead or demented.

‘It doesn’t help that these British men were murdered during the Cod War,’said Gudni. ‘Certain individuals in particular social groups still harbour a grudge over that dispute, both here and in Britain. The British press are sure to play up that angle.’

‘Do you think that these men were murdered because of fish?’ cried Bella. ‘Because of cod?’‘

Gudni gave her a reproachful look. ‘The codfish is money with fins and gills. You shouldn’t underestimate its importance.’

Bella was about to defend herself so Thóra hurried to interrupt her. ‘Were they fishermen, then?’

‘That is not stated directly, but you can read this at your leisure and draw your own conclusions,’ replied Gudni. ‘It’s best that I go and make a copy of it.’ He walked past them without another word.

Bella scowled at him, thenlooked around the little office. ‘Fucking idiot,’ she said, seemingly more to herself than to Thóra. She went over to Gudni’s desk and ran her eyes over the things lying on it.

‘For God’s sake don’t start looking at anything,’ Thóra hissed exasperatedly.

‘He wouldn’t have left us alone if there was anything here he didn’t want us to see,’ said Bella as she bent towards the desk. She turned one of the pieces of paper on the table face up. ‘When did the volcano erupt, again?’ she asked.