Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Last Rituals

"What about the eyes?" asked Matthew.

The doctor cleared his throat. "The eyes. That's another riddle I cannot explain. As the family knows, they were removed after Harald's death, which must be some consolation to them in my opinion. But I cannot say why it was done."

"How do you remove the eyes from a dead body anyway?" said Thora, regretting her question at once.

"There must be lots of ways," said the doctor. "It appears that our murderer used a smooth tool for the job. All the signs, or rather the lack of them, point in that direction." He resumed flicking through the photographs.

Thora hurried to stop him. "We believe you entirely. We don't need to see any photographs."

Matthew smirked at her. He was clearly amused that she found this repulsive, especially after their exchange in the corridor. This irritated her, so she decided to show him what she was made of. "You began by saying that the autopsy was unusual and strange. What did you mean by that?"

The doctor leaned forward and his face lit up. He had clearly been looking forward to discussing this. "I don't know how close you were to Harald Guntlieb; maybe you already know it all." He flicked through his papers and produced several photographs. "This is what I mean," he said, placing them on the table in front of Thora and Matthew.

It took Thora a moment to realize what she was looking at, but when it finally dawned on her she could only shudder. "Yuck! What is that, anyway?" she blurted.

"I'm not surprised you ask," the doctor replied. "Harald Guntlieb obviously practiced body modification, as it is called in the countries where the habit originated. At first we thought that the state of his tongue was connected with the disfiguration of the body, but then we noticed it had healed so much that he must have had it done some time beforeit's in a different league from tongue studs in perversity, I really must say."

Thora looked at one revolting photograph after another. Gripped by nausea, she stood up. "Excuse me," she muttered through clenched teeth, and ran for the door. When she stepped into the corridor she heard Matthew say to the doctor in mock surprise: "Strange, and she's a mother of two."

There were few people at the Intercultural Center. Thora had chosen that particular coffee shop because it was possible to talk in more peace and quiet there than at most other places downtown. She and Matthew could converse without worrying about customers at nearby tables overhearing them. They sat alone in the side room. The yellow folder containing the autopsy records lay in front of them on the mosaic-patterned table.

"You'll feel better after a coffee," said Matthew awkwardly, looking toward the door through which the waitress had just left after taking their order.

"I feel fine," Thora snapped back. In fact, this was true; the nausea that had come over her in the doctor's room had passed. After leaving his office she found a bathroom down the corridor and refreshed herself by splashing her face with cold water. She had always had a tendency to feel sick and remembered how upset she used to get about the course books her ex-husband had left open everywhere when he was studying medicine. But the photographs in them were nowhere near as bad as what she had seen that morning; perhaps because the illustrations in the textbooks were somehow more impersonal. She added in a milder tone: "I don't know what came over me. I hope I didn't offend the doctor."

"They're not particularly pleasant photos," said Matthew. "Most people would react in exactly the same way. You needn't worry about the doctor. I told him you were recovering from a stomach bug so you weren't in the best shape for looking at that sort of thing."

Thora nodded. "What on earth was that, anyway? I think I figured out most of the photos but in retrospect I'm not sure that I actually understood what some of them showed."

"After you left, we went over each one," said Matthew. "Harald appears to have had all kinds of disfigurements performed voluntarily on his body. According to the doctor, the oldest ones are several years old, but the newest ones were done only a couple of months ago."

"Why did he do it?" Thora asked. She could not understand what motivated a young person to mutilate himself.

"God knows," said Matthew. "Harald was never quite normal. Ever since I met the family he was always hanging around with fringe elements. For a while it was the environmentalists, then it was an antiG-8 protest group. When he finally absorbed himself in history I thought he'd found his bearings." Matthew tapped the yellow folder gently. "Why he started doing this is beyond me."

Thora said nothing while she pondered the photographs and the pain that Harald must have suffered. "What was that exactly?" she asked, hurriedly adding: "It won't make me sick."

At that moment the waitress arrived with the coffee and snacks they had ordered. They thanked her, and when she had gone Matthew began his answer. "They were the results of all kinds of bizarre operations and surgeries. What struck me most was his tongue. You presumably realized that one of the photos was of Harald's mouth." Thora nodded and Matthew continued. "He had his tongue cut in two, split lengthways. He must have meant it to resemble a snake's tongue, and I have to admit it was very successful."

"Could he talk properly after that?" Thora asked.

"According to the doctor, he probably had a lisp afterward, but he couldn't be sure. He also said that such operations were not unheard-of. They are very rare, but Harald wasn't a pioneer in the field."

"Surely he didn't do it himself? Who performs that kind of surgery?" Thora asked.

"The doctor thought it had been done quite recently because it wasn't fully healed. He had no idea who the surgeon was but added that anyone with anesthetic, tongs, and a surgical knife could do it quite easily. Doctors, surgical nurses, and dentists, for example. And he added that the same person could prescribe antibiotics and painkillers, or at least ensure access to them."

"Jesus Christ, that's all I can say," Thora said. "But what about all the other stuff, those studs, scars, signs, horns, and God knows what else?"

"According to the doctor, Harald had objects implanted under his skin to produce their outlines in relief. Same thing with those little spikes standing out of his shoulders. The doctor said he removed thirty-two other objects, including little studs like the ones you saw on his genitals." Matthew glanced awkwardly at Thora. She sipped her coffee and smiled to indicate that she did not find this embarrassing. He continued. "Then there were symbols, all connected with black magic and devil worship. Harald kept himself busy, there weren't many big spaces on his body without some kind of decoration." Matthew paused to eat a small slice of bread. Then he continued. "He doesn't seem to have liked traditional tattooshe had scars."

"Scars?" said Thora. "Did he have tattoos removed?"

"No, no. They were tattoos made by cutting the skin or removing it to produce a pattern or symbol from the scar tissue. Quite a decisive step, having that done. I understood from the doctor that you can't get rid of such tattoos except with a skin transplant that would leave an even bigger scar."

"Really?" Thora said, surprised. When she was young it was considered wild to have more than two piercings in your ear.

"The doctor also said one of the cuts on Harald's body had been made after his death. At first they thought it was just a recent tattoo, but on closer inspection it turned out not to be. It looked like a magic symbol, and it was carved into his chest." Matthew produced a pen from his pocket and reached for a napkin. He sketched the symbol and turned the napkin so that Thora could see it. Matthew continued. "The meaning of this symbol is unknown, according to the doctor. The police haven't managed to decipher it either, so maybe the murderer invented it on the spot. Another theory is that the murderer was unnerved by the circumstances and didn't make the symbol look the way he had planned. Carving in skin isn't easy."