Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Last Rituals

"In those days it wasn't so absurd," Elisa said seriously. "Hell was considered to be a real placein the bowels of the earth. There was even supposed to be a hole down to it in Iceland. On some volcano whose name I can't remember."

"Hekla." Thora helped her out before Matthew tried to pronounce it. So that was itHarald's motive for coming to Iceland. He was looking for hell, just as Hugi claimed he had whispered to him.

"Yes, right," said Elisa. "That was where the manuscript was supposed to be sent. Or so Harald claimed, at least."

"Then what? Did it ever get there?" asked Thora.

"Harald told me he'd been looking for information on this emissary's journey and had found a reference to it in a church chronicle from Kiel from 1486at least he thought it was the same man. The chronicle mentions a man on his way to Iceland with a letter from the Bishop of Brixen asking for him to be given lodgings and provisions on his journey. He arrived on horseback carrying something that he guarded jealously. He could not even accept the sacrament because the package couldn't be taken into church, and he never let it out of his sight. It says he stayed for two nights, then continued on his way north."

"Did Harald find any clues about how the journey ended?" asked Matthew.

"No," responded Elisa. "Not immediately, at any rate. Harald came here to Iceland after he gave up trying to trace it on the mainland. At first he made little headway, then he got hold of an old letter from Denmark that mentioned a young man who had died of measles at a bishop's see whose name escapes mehe was on his way to Iceland. He staggered into the see at night, desperately ill, and died a few days later. But before he died he managed to entrust to the bishop a package that he was supposed to take to Iceland and throw into Heklawith the blessing of the Bishop of Brixen. Some years later the Danish bishop wrote to ask the Catholic authorities in Iceland to finish the task. The bishop said he would hand over the package to a man who was on his way to Iceland, if I remember correctly, to sell pardons for the pope to finance the building of St. Peter's Church in Rome."

"When was this?" Thora asked.

"I think Harald said it was quite a while later, probably around 1505. The bishop was old by then and wanted to clear up unfinished businesshe'd kept the package for almost twenty years without passing it on."

"So the package came to Iceland?" mused Thora.

"Harald was adamant that it did," Elisa replied. She ran her right index finger in circles around the rim of her wineglass.

"Didn't they throw the manuscript into the volcano then?" Matthew asked.

"Harald said that couldn't be right, because no one would have dared climb the mountain then. The first recorded ascent is much closer to our day. Then it erupted a few years later. Harald thought any potential candidate for the job would have been put off once and for all by that."

"So where did the manuscript end up?" asked Matthew.

"At a bishop's see, something beginning with s, Harald thought."

"Skalholt?" Thora guessed.

"Yes, that sounds right," replied Elisa. "At least, that was where the pardoner went with the money he'd collected."

"Then what? No manuscript of The Witches' Hammer has ever been found in Skalholt," said Thora, pouring herself more coffee.

"Harald claimed it was kept there until the first printing press arrived in Iceland, when it was sent to another see. This one began with p, I think."

"Holar," declared Thora, even though there was no p in the name. Iceland only had two sees, so it was an easy guess.

"I don't remember," said Elisa. "But it could well be."

"Did Harald think they were going to print it there?"

"Yes, I had that impression. It was the most widely published book in Europe at the time, apart from the Bible, so they probably considered it at least."

"Presumably someone opened the package then and saw what it contained. Surely they were tempted to take a peek," said Matthew. "But what happened to the book? It was never published here, was it?" he asked Thora.

"No," she said. "Not as far as I know."

"Harald said he had traced it," said Elisa. "He said he'd gone on a wild-goose chase looking for the printing press and that place beginning with p "

"Holar," Thora interjected.

"Yes, right," said Elisa. "He thought the bishop had sent the book somewhere else before he was executed, but then he became convinced that it was never removed from the other seethat S-place."

"Skalholt," said Thora.

"Whatever," Elisa replied. "Anyway, he located the book when he started investigating that anglehe said it had been hidden away to save it from being sent out of Iceland."

"And where was it?" asked Thora.

Elisa took a sip of wine before answering. "I don't know. He wouldn't tell me. He said he'd save the rest of the story until he could show me the trophy."

Thora and Matthew made no attempt to conceal their frustration. "Didn't you ask any more about it? Didn't he imply anything?" Thora asked impatiently.

"No, it was late by then and he was so delighted about the whole business that I didn't want to ruin his pleasure by nagging on about it." Elisa smiled apologetically. "The next day we talked about completely different things. Do you think it's linked to the murder?"

"I honestly don't know," Thora said in disappointment. Suddenly Mal crossed her mind. Maybe Elisa knew Harald's friends. They seemed to have been close, judging by everything she said. This Mal might have the missing information. "Elisa, do you know who Mal is? Harald had an e-mail from him suggesting that Mal knew something about his search for the book."

Elisa smiled. "Mal, oh, yes. I know Mal. His full name's Malcolm and they met in Rome. He's a historian too. He phoned me the other daysaid he'd got a strange e-mail about Harald from Iceland. I told him he'd been murdered."

"Do you think he knows more about it?" asked Matthew. "Could you put us in touch with him?"

"No, he knows nothing," said Elisa. "He's been asking me about the book; he said Harald told him he'd found it but gave no details. Malcolm had always thought Harald was chasing a red herring, so he was interested to find out what had happened."

Thora's mobile rang. It was the police.

Thora exchanged a few words with the officer, put down the phone, and looked at Matthew. "Halldor, that medical student, has been arrested in connection with Harald's murder. He wants me to act as his legal counsel."

Thora felt uncomfortable sitting at the police station. She was wondering whether she could be disbarred for serious abuse of her position and a flagrant conflict of interest. In fact she was unsure whether the law made such a provision; if not, it needed to be amended. The position was this: she was working for the family of a murdered man and was about to become the lawyer of the alleged killer. It was an on-the-spot decision and she had rushed out to hail a taxi. Matthew stayed behind with Elisa and took it upon himself to tell Frau Guntlieb the news and the rationale behind their sudden decision. Presumably he would argue that it gave Thora a chance to talk to the murderer in person and get answers to the remaining questions. Good luck to him, Thora thought, not envying him the task. Migraine sufferers were not usually very understanding.

"Hello. He's ready." The police officer had walked up to Thora without her noticing him.

"Yes, thank you," Thora said, and stood up. "Can I see him alone or am I supposed to be present when he's interrogated?"

"He's made a statement. He refused counsel then. It was a rather awkward situationwe're not used to questioning people without counsel on such serious charges. But he insisted, and in the end we had to leave it to him. It was only when he'd given his statement that he asked to see his lawyer. You."