Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Last Rituals

Klara was a horse lover and had dragged Hannes into the sport. It was a source of endless torment for Soley and Gylfi, who had inherited Thora's nervous dispositionif anything, the fear genes had doubled from mother to child. Thora had trouble driving on icy roads, climbing mountains, taking elevators, eating raw foodin fact, she didn't do well with any activity that could conceivably end in disaster. For some incomprehensible reason, however, flying was the one exception. So she understood perfectly her children's horror at the prospect of horseback riding, convinced as they were that each ride would be their last moment on earth. Hannes refused to admit that this condition was permanent and constantly tried to persuade his children that they would get used to it in the end. "Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked, although she knew full well that she had little sway over Hannes's plans. "Gylfi's a bit down at the moment and I'm not sure that a riding trip is exactly what he needs now."

"Rubbish," Hannes snapped back. "He's turning into quite a horseman."

"You reckon? Try to talk to him, anyway. I suspect he's having girl trouble and you know more about those things than I do."

"Girl trouble? What do I know about those things?" yelled Hannes. "He's just turned sixteen. You can't be serious."

"No, maybe not. But keep it in the back of your mind and try to deliver some words of wisdom."

"Wisdom? What sort of wisdom? What do you mean?" Hannes was floundering, and Thora smiled.

"You know, to help him deal with life's challenges." Her smile widened.

"You're joking," Hannes said hopefully.

"Actually, I'm not," replied Thora. "I trust you'll find a way. I'll do the same for your daughter when her boy problems start. You can try taking him aside on the riding trip and having a quiet chat from the saddle."

They ended the conversation and Thora had a hunch she had just lowered the odds that they would go riding. She tried once again to reimmerse herself in televised unreality. In vain, though, because the phone rang again.

"Sorry to call so late, but it occurred to me that you might be thinking about me," Matthew said calmly after they'd said hello. "I decided to let you hear my voice."

Thora was flabbergastedshe could not tell whether Matthew was mad, drunk, or joking. "I can't say you caught me doing that." She stretched over for the remote to turn down the television volume so that he would not hear the trash she was watching. "I was reading."

"What are you reading?" he asked.

" War and Peace . Dostoevsky," Thora lied.

"Really," said Matthew. "Is that anything like War and Peace by Tolstoy?"

Thora clenched her fist, annoyed that she hadn't chosen Halldor Laxness or another Icelandic author he would not know. She had always been a hopeless liar. "I mean Tolstoy. So was there anything special? I'm sure you didn't call to discuss literature."

"Just as well, because I'd have got the wrong number," rejoined Matthew. When Thora said nothing he added: "No. Sorry. I called because the lawyer of the man in police custody phoned me just now."

"Finnur Bogason?" asked Thora.

"That's just what I would have said if I could pronounce Icelandic," said Matthew. "He wanted to let me know that we can meet the lad tomorrow if we want."

"Have we got permission?" asked Thora, amazed. Remand prisoners were not normally allowed visits from strangers.

"This Finnur," Matthew said, pronouncing the name as Fie-neur, almost with a French accent, "managed to persuade the police that we were working with him on the defense. Which, of course, we are, indirectly."

"What made him do that?"

"Shall we say I gave him a small incentive?"

Thora asked no more, not wanting to be party to anything under-hand. She doubted that Matthew had threatened the lawyer, and thought it more likely he had promised a fee for arranging the interviewwhich would have been unethical at best. She felt better imagining they would be assisting the defense counsel.

But to hell with ethics. She had to meet Hugi. Maybe he was guilty after all. Nothing could match talking to people in person, looking the speaker in the eye and watching his movements and body language. "Shouldn't we get a move on, then? We need to see this guy."

"I agree. I just need to let Fie-neur know."

"Why did he phone you so late?" asked Thora. "Surely he hasn't just got permission tonight?"

"No, no. He left a message for me at the hotel but I've only just got back. I don't like handing my phone number around."

Thora hated herself for wanting to know where Matthew had been after they parted waysalthough the most likely explanation was that he had simply gone into town for something to eat.

They decided that Matthew would fetch Thora from her office at nine to drive from the city to Litla-Hraun prison. She looked out the window at the snow tumbling down and hoped with all her heart that he knew how to drive on winter roads. If not, they were in trouble.

Thora was sitting at her computer in her office when Matthew showed up at nine o'clock. She was just finishing replying to e-mails that had arrived the previous day, most of which she had passed on to Thor. Bragi was all smiles when he greeted her that morning. He was still toying with the idea that this German job would be their passport to the worlda source of endless business for their practice. Thora made no attempt to bring him back to earth, relieved at being able to concentrate on the murder riddle without being torn between petty jobs as well.

She e-mailed Harald's mysterious friend Mal with a brief account of Harald's death and how she and Matthew were involved in the case on the Guntliebs' behalf. She ended her message with a polite request for Mal to contact her, since he might have crucial information. When Bella phoned to announce Matthew's arrival, Thora said she needed five minutes to finish and asked the girl to tell him to take a seat and wait in the reception area. She was determined to clear her desk so that she would not have to return to the office in the afternoon. She managed to finish in just over five minutes and switched off her computer, pleased with her morning's achievements. She wondered if she should start coming in earlier. Although it would be tough at home, this hour was exceptionally productive, free from the harassment of the telephone before normal office opening hours.

She took a small tape recorder from one of her desk drawers to record their interview with Hugi. While she was checking if the batteries worked her thoughts returned to her son, who had been terribly down in the dumps that morning. Whatever the problem was, it had not gone away overnight as Thora had hoped. The boy had sat there vacantly with no appetite and she managed to drag only a few words out of him. Soley, on the other hand, talked nonstop as she always did in the mornings, so Thora had no time alone with her son. She decided to probe the matter calmly that evening after Soley had gone to bed. Then she drove these thoughts out of her mind, put the recorder in her handbag, and left the office.

Thora was taken aback when she entered reception. Matthew was sitting on the edge of Bella's desk talking excitedly to the secretary, who glowed like the midday sun. They did not even notice Thora's presence and she had to clear her throat to get their attention.

Matthew looked around. "Oh, you, I was hoping you'd be busy a bit longer." He smiled at Thora and gave her a wink.

Thora could hardly take her eyes off Bella's face, which had been transformed by simply smiling. She looked almost pretty. "Well, shouldn't we get a move on?" Thora said, fetching her coat. "Nice to see you so cheerful, Bella," she added, beaming at the secretary.