Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Ashes To Dust

He seemed to have resolved not to discuss his decision, although it made conversation embarrassing and awkward. She wanted him to come, but was nervous about how it would go if their interest in each other started to dwindle over time. She decided to change the subject so that there would be no danger of her giving in and asking him to take the job.‘Why would you cut someone’s genitals off and stuff them in their mouth?’ was the only thing that she could think of saying. The part of the autopsy report concerned with the head was preoccupying her. It had stated that the mouth of the severed head had contained a man’s reproductive organ, likely from the same person. That was the unexpected element Gudni had hinted at.

There was a long silence at the other end of the phone.

Finally Matthew spoke: ‘I’m just wondering what it is you wanted to say, whether I’ve misunderstood. I can’t come up with anything, so I’m starting to think I didn’t mishear you at all.’

‘No,’ said Thóra.‘You didn’t mishear me. At the moment I’m working on a case that concerns, among other things, a head in that very same condition.’

‘A head?’ said Matthew, clearly baffled. ‘I see you haven’t yet switched over to divorce cases, like you were thinking of doing. Or is this one of them?’

‘I wish I knew whose head it was,’ replied Thóra sadly, before running through the case swiftly with him. When she had finished she repeated her original question. ‘If I knew what would drive a murderer to do such a thing, perhaps I could narrow down the number of possible suspects.’

‘It sounds to me as if this case is one of those that will never be solved,’ said Matthew, tacitly declining to discuss the mutilation. ‘So much time has passed that I doubt you’ll get anywhere.’

‘That would be bad news for my client,’ said Thóra. ‘He doesn’t want this allegation hanging over his head for the rest of his life, which is what might happen if the truth doesn’t come out.’ She paused before adding: ‘I mean, it’s the best he could hope for in the event that the guilty party isn’t found.

He could very well be charged or sentenced. For the moment there are no other suspects and this investigation has all the makings of a media circus. It’s not the kind of case that brings out the best in the police or the justice system.‘

‘You take on the strangest jobs,’said Matthew. ‘Is that deliberate?’

‘No, far from it,’ said Thóra emphatically. ‘At least I have to believe it’s not. I didn’t go searching for the man. When I took this case on I expected the worst, but not that heads would roll, literally…’ She exhaled.‘But you haven’t answered my question about the way this head has been treated. Have you ever heard of such a thing?’

‘Well, I’m no expert,’replied Matthew, and Thóra could hear his voice taking on a more serious tone. ‘But of course I’ve heard and read about similar cases.’

‘Of course,’ said Thóra.‘It happens all the time, silly me.’

Matthew sounded insulted. ‘You know what I mean. These things aren’t unheard of in wartime; in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened in prehistoric times. Its purpose is almost certainly to deprive the victim of his masculinity,and at the same time to display the perpetrator’s revulsion towards the individual in question. The Mafia also used to do it to traitors.’

Thóra raised a sarcastic eyebrow, although Matthew couldn’t see her. ‘I doubt the Mafia had anything to do with this. This is a small community dependent on fishing, with little to interest the Mafia.’

‘I imagine there’s a harbour there?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact there is, but I still don’t think this has anything to do with the Mafia,’ said Thóra confidently. She had seen photos of the Westmann Islands taken around the time of the disaster, and cigar-wielding Mafiosi in suits would have fitted into them about as naturally as astronauts in full spacesuits.‘True, the Cod War between Iceland and Britain was in full swing at the time, but it wasn’t a war in the usual sense, so this is unlikely to be related to any battle.’

‘I think this type of treatment also occurs in hate crimes, when people are killed because of their race, religion or sexual preference. Would that fit?’

‘I don’t know, damn it,’replied Thóra. ‘The bodies haven’t been identified, which makes the case impossible. Hopefully that will be resolved soon, since I’m sort of stranded here until I know more.’

‘I know this much, Thóra,’sighed Matthew, ‘what this person has done displays enormous hatred, spite and cruelty. If whoever did it is still alive, I don’t like the look of this. They won’t be too happy about people digging around in the past.’

Thóra tried to lighten the mood.‘Ah, bless you. The culprit is either six feet under or a senior citizen. I don’t think I’m in any danger.’

Matthew was silent for a moment. ‘You can’t grow out of hatred. Not that kind of hatred, Thóra. You should watch your step.’

After the phone call she sat for a moment, staring into nothing. She tried to imagine herself cutting off a man’s penis and putting it in his mouth, but she couldn’t. She realized that there was a lot of truth in what Matthew had said. This crime showed unbelievable hatred; the kind of hatred only possible in someone who no longer held company with civilized men. But what could cause that?

There was no one in reception when Thóra came to return the keys. Bella was nowhere to be seen, so she sent her a text message telling her she ought to hurry if they wanted to catch the plane. Thóra had no interest in missing the morning flight and having to wait until evening for another, since there was so much waiting for her at home and at work. She threw her key forcefully onto the table in the hope that the receptionist would hear her, but in vain. Spying an old-fashioned bell, she rang it loudly. It didn’t take long for the young woman who seemed to be on duty at the reception desk round the clock to appear with a smile on her lips and check Thóra out. However, there was still no sign of Bella. Had she perhaps gone out again last night, and was still asleep next to some random sailor? Looking at her watch Thóra saw that there was no reason to panic yet, so she plonked herself down in an easy chair and grabbed some newspapers. They turned out to be from the day before, but that was good enough for her.

After a while Alda’s sister Jóhanna walked into the hotel lobby and came over. Thóra quickly put down the paper she was reading and greeted her.

‘Oh, good,’ said Jóhanna as she shook Thóra’s hand loosely, trying to catch her breath. ‘I was so sure I’d missed you. You’re taking the morning flight, aren’t you?’

‘Yes,’ replied Thóra, looking over at the clock again. ‘The girl who’s with me is a bit late. Luckily, because otherwise I’d be at the airport.’ She smiled at Jóhanna.‘Did you want to talk about something in particular?’

‘I found something last night. After talking to you I started to think about Alda and what you said about the bodies in the basement. If my sister was murdered then I want to help in any way I can.’ She lifted a plastic bag that she’d brought with her and held it out towards Thóra. ‘That’s why I went looking for these. I want you to see them.’

Thóra looked down at the bag, surprised. She took it from Jóhanna.‘What are they?’

Jóhanna looked apologetic and rubbed at her chin. ‘Alda always kept diaries and I knew they were kept in storage, with other things, at Mother and Father’s. Our house was one of those that wasn’t buried completely and was dug up later. After Father died, Mother put the house up for sale, but no one was interested. I helped her go through stuff and throw some of it out, so the house could be shown without her feeling ashamed of all the junk in the basement and the garage. I found these among some of Alda’s things that she left behind in the evacuation. I was going to bring the diaries to our meeting last weekend.’ She smiled apologetically. ‘Mother is in Reykjavik because of Alda’s death, and she doesn’t know I took them. I’m not sure she’d remember them, in all honesty.’