Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Last Rituals

"Hmm," said Matthew as they got out of the car.

"But why did Harald have the letters?" she asked. "Did he believe they were genuine or forged?"

Matthew shut the door to the driver's seat and opened the rear door. After carefully wrapping the wallet of letters inside his jacket, he placed it on top of the box and bent over to pick everything up. If he was cold in just his sweater, he didn't show it. "Harald was convinced they were genuinehe was obsessed with the riddle of who or what it was that Kramer lost in the scribe's revenge. He made countless searches to find an allusion to it in documents from all over Germany and even went to the Vatican library for that specific purpose. But he couldn't find a scrap of evidence. Kramer isn't so well known in other respects; he was around more than five hundred years ago."

Thora noticed footprints in the snow at the corner of the building, leading toward the front door of Harald's apartment. She gestured to Matthew with her chin to indicate these fresh signs of trafficthe footprints only led in one direction so they could hardly have been left when the post or newspapers were delivered. With a finger to his lips, Matthew made his way around the side of the building. Thora followed quietly.

As they rounded the corner, they saw a man standing a short distance from the front door. He had backed away to look up at the windows on the upper floor. He gave a start when he saw Thora and Matthew. His mouth moved silently for several seconds before he finally stammered: "Did you know Harald Guntlieb?"

"How do you do? My name's Gunnar Gestvik, head of the history department at the university."

He shuffled his feet in front of them, unsure of himself. His clothes looked well made; he was wearing a smart winter coat from a label that Thora recognized from her ex-husband's wardrobe. Beneath it he was dressed in a suit with a loud, carefully knotted tie and light blue shirt collar protruding from it. His whole manner suggested a calm and collected professional man. But at this moment his calm and collectedness were stretched to breaking point. Gunnar had clearly been caught off guard by this encounter and was desperately calculating his next move. Thora knew this was the man who found Harald's body, or, more accurately, had it thrust upon him. Why he should want to visit his former student's apartment was a mystery to her. Maybe part of the process of acceptance, on the advice of a psychiatrist?

"I was in the neighborhood and decided to see if anyone was here," said Gunnar hesitantly.

"Here? At Harald's flat?" Thora asked, surprised.

"Of course I didn't expect to meet him in person," Gunnar said quickly. "I meant whether the caretaker or someone else was here."

Matthew could not understand a word and left the talking to Thorabut the name registered at once. He slipped past her and flashed his eyes to signal that she should invite the man in. He fished the keys out of his pocket and opened the door.

Gunnar watched Matthew with a strange eagerness. "Do you have access to his apartment?" he asked Thora.

"Yes, Matthew's working for Harald's family and I'm representing them too. We're unloading some of his belongings that we fetched from the police. May I invite you in? We'd be pleased to have a quick word with you."

Gunnar could hardly conceal his glee. He gratefully accepted the offer after glancing at his watch and pretending that he could just squeeze in a visit. He followed Thora inside. In spite of his elegant appearance he was not quite the perfect gentlemanat least, he did not offer to help her carry the heavy monitor upstairs.

Gunnar's reaction was similar to Thora's when she had first entered the apartment. Not even bothering to hang up his coat, he walked in a trance into the living room and began studying the objects on the walls. Matthew and Thora took their time, put down their loads and hung up their coats. When Matthew hung his up he removed the leather wallet containing the letters and took it to the bedroom. Thora stayed to keep an eye on Gunnar. She walked over to him and stood by his side, although she could hardly bring herself to interrupt his appreciation of the old works of art on the walls.

"This is a remarkable collection of art," she commented. She tried to recall what Matthew had told her about the paintings but was unsure that she could do it justice, so she decided not to try to show off.

"How did he get hold of all this?" Gunnar asked. "Did he steal it?"

Thora was astonished. How could the man entertain such a notion? "No. He inherited it all from his grandfather." After a moment's hesitation she ventured: "Didn't you like Harald?"

Gunnar was taken aback by the question. "Oh, yes, goodness me. I was extremely fond of him." His tone did not exactly ring true and Gunnar seemed to realize as much. He quickly tried to rectify this. "Harald was an extremely intelligent young man with a good command of history. His approach to his work was exemplary, which is unfortunately becoming rarer these days."

Thora was still not convinced. "So he was a model student?"

Gunnar forced a smile. "You could say that. Of course his appearance and behavior were rather unconventional, but you mustn't judge young people's fashions. I remember the Beatles and the fashions they started. The older generation didn't think much of them at the time. I'm old enough now to realize that the youthful spirit wears many disguises."

Comparing Harald and the Beatles was pushing it, to say the least. "I'd never thought of it that way." She smiled at Gunnar politely. "But of course I never knew him."

"You said you were a lawyer, so what business are you doing for Harald's familydoes it concern the will? The objects on these walls are worth a pretty penny."

"No, it's nothing like that," replied Thora. "We're double-checking the murder investigationthe family is having trouble accepting the police findings."

Gunnar stared at her, his eyes like saucers. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "What do you mean? Haven't they caught the murderer, that drug dealer?"

Thora shrugged. "We have reason to believe that he isn't the killer." She noticed that Gunnar, for some reason, wasn't particularly pleased by this news. She added: "It'll all come out in the end. Maybe we're wrongmaybe not."

"It might not be any of my business, but what is there to suggest that this man is innocent? The police seem convinced they've got the right man in custodydo you know something the police don't?"

"We're not concealing information from the police, if that's what you're implying," Thora snapped. "We're simply not satisfied with some of the aspects of their findings."

Gunnar sighed. "Do forgive me for being so pushy; I haven't quite been myself since this happened. To tell you the truth I hoped it was coming to an end. It's been extremely difficult for me personally and it's tarnished the reputation of the department."

"I understand that," said Thora. "But surely it's not right to convict an innocent man to save the department's reputation, is it?"

Realizing the implication of his words, Gunnar spluttered: "No, no, no. Of course not. One tends to put one's own interests first, but naturally there are limits. Please don't misunderstand me."

"So what brought you here anyway?" asked Thora. She wondered what was keeping Matthew.

Gunnar turned away from Thora to examine one of the pictures. "I was hoping to get in touch with someone who is dealing with Harald's affairs. I seem to have found the right person."

"Why?"

"When Harald was murdered he had recentlyhow shall I put ityes, recently borrowed a document from the university, a document that was never returned. I'm looking for it." Gunnar did not take his eyes off the picture.