Yrsa Sigurdardottir - Last Rituals

"Anyway, you could always move in with Bella." Thora smiled. Matthew gave her a dirty look, but his expression softened slightly when Gudrun released his hand.

"You give him the document," said Thora, trying to get Matthew to take hold of the large envelope. Gudrun had found it for them as they were leaving, placing the old letter inside to prevent further damage. As if there was any point.

"Out of the question," said Matthew, crossing his arms tight. "It was your idea, so I'm just going to sit and watchI might hand him a handkerchief if he bursts into tears when he realizes it's in tatters."

"I haven't felt like this since the time I came back from my driving test and reversed straight into our neighbor's car," Thora said while they sat waiting. They had been offered a seat and told that Gunnar would see them after his class ended. Since no one seemed to be around, Thora took the opportunity to stretch out in the chair. "It's not as if it was me who ripped the letter."

"But you're the one who gets to break the news," Matthew said, looking at the clock. "Is he coming? I have to have a proper meal before you go meet Amelia. Are you sure this caterers' holiday is only until noon?"

"We'll be quick, don't worry. You'll be eating before you know it." Hearing footsteps from the other end of the corridor, she looked up. It was Gunnar. He had a pile of papers and books in his arms and seemed surprised to see them.

"Hello," he said, trying to fish the key to his office out of his pocket. "Have you come to see me?"

Matthew and Thora stood up. "Yes, hello," said Thora. She waved the envelope in front of her. "We wanted to ask you whether a letter that was found over the weekend might be the one you're looking for."

Gunnar's face lit up. "Really?" he said, opening the door. "Do come in. What marvelous news." He went over to his desk and put down the books and papers. Then he sat down and gestured to them to take a seat. "Where was it found?"

Thora sat down and put the envelope on the table. "At Harald's flat, in a box of odd stuff. I must warn you that the letter's not in good condition." She gave an apologetic smile. "The person who found it had a little fit."

"A little fit?" Gunnar repeated vaguely. He took the envelope and opened it carefully. He slowly removed the letter, and as its condition became clear he grew more and more distressed. "What on earth happened?" He put the letter down on the desk and stared at it.

"Um, the woman found all kinds of other things that upset her," said Thora. "With very good reason, I can assure you. She asked us to return it because she was very sorry and hoped it could be repaired." She smiled even more apologetically than before.

Gunnar said nothing. He stared at the letter as if frozen. Suddenly he began to laugh. Disturbing laughternot at all like amusement. "My God." He sighed when the bout of hysteria had ended. "Maria will be furious." A little spasm passed through his body when he said the name. He stroked the document, lifted it up, and examined it. "But this is the letter; we should be pleased about that, at least." He giggled.

"Maria?" said Thora. "Who's Maria?"

"The director of the Manuscript Institute," Gunnar replied weakly. "She's the one who's worried about this letter."

"Maybe you could pass the message on from the finder," said Thora, "that she's very sorry."

Gunnar looked up from the letter. His expression implied that this would have little effect. "Yes, I will."

"I want to use this opportunity, Gunnar, to ask you about a student in your departmentBriet, Harald's friend."

Gunnar narrowed his eyes. "What about her?"

"We were told that they had an argument. Something to do with their joint project on Brynjolfur Sveinsson. They had a fight about a lost document. Do you know anything about it?" Thora noticed a painting on the wall behind Gunnar which, as far as she could tell, showed the bishop. "Isn't that him?" She pointed to the picture.

Gunnar said nothing. He was deep in thought. He did not look around, since he was well aware what was hanging on the wall. "That's not Brynjolfur Sveinsson, it's my great-grandfather, whom I'm named after. The Reverend Gunnar Hardarson. He's wearing clergyman's vestments, not the robes of a seventeenth-century bishop."

Thora blushed a little and decided not to ask about another of the numerous photographs she noticed on the wallone which appeared to show Gunnar and the farmer from Hella she and Matthew had met when they went to the caves. Her embarrassment cheered Gunnar up a little and he leaned forward to hiss: "You two are the least welcome visitors I've ever had."

Thora was taken aback. "I'm sorry. But I'd still like to ask you to show a little patiencewe're just trying to tie up a few loose ends, and Briet is one of them. If you'd prefer not to discuss it, you might be able to give us the name of the teacher or professor who was in charge of the project."

"No, no. I can tell you all about itthat shouldn't be too hard for me. I only meant that you have a knack for unearthing very sensitive in-house matters, which you seem to have done again."

"Really?" Thora said in surprise. "I thought it would be most sensitive for Briet. We understand she behaved rather strangely, that's why we're asking."

"Briet, yes. Quite right, her behavior was most odd. It was really thanks to Harald that we managed to stop her before the department ended up in a very embarrassing position." Gunnar loosened his tie.

"So what did this involve exactly?" she asked as she noticed Gunnar's tiepin for the first time. It reminded her of something that she could not quite place.

Gunnar's eyes darted down to his tie as he sensed Thora staring at it. He stroked it with his palm just in case he had spilled some food on it. He scratched himself on the pin and pulled his hand back quickly. "What did it involve, you saylet's see. If I remember correctly, Harald and Briet decided to compile a register of all known records about Brynjolfur Sveinsson as part of a course they attended. I think Harald proposed it, not Briet. She just tagged along; she was in the habit of latching onto others for projects."

"Was it connected with his dissertation?" asked Thora; she expected he had really been investigating whether the bishop had had a copy of Malleus Maleficarum .

"No, not at all," Gunnar replied. "We found him rather lacking in focus, as I believe I told you. Instead of using his course projects to prepare his dissertation, he roamed far and wideabsorbed himself in topics that sometimes had nothing to do with the history of sorcery. That was particularly true in Brynjolfur Sveinsson's casehe was around in the seventeenth century, as you know."

"Were you his supervisor on this project?" asked Thora.

"No, I think it was Thorbjorn Olafsson. I can check if you want." Gunnar gestured at the computer screen on his desk.

Thora declined the offer. "No, that probably won't be necessary. If you could just tell us what happened we'd be perfectly happy. This is all we need to know at the moment. We're rather pushed for time."

Gunnar looked at his watch. "So am I, actuallyI have to hand over the letter to Maria." Judging from his expression, he did not relish the task. "Anyway, they went to the main archives in Reykjavik, the national archives, the manuscript department of the national library, and such places to compile a record of all the documents and letters mentioning Bishop Brynjolfur Sveinsson. They made good progress, I understand, until Briet claimed to have discovered that some letters were missing from the national archives."

"Isn't that conceivable?" Thora asked, with a glance at the ripped letter on the desk. "I mean, such things happen."

"That may well be, but in this case it was a simple administrative error. Admittedly the whereabouts of the letters are uncertain, but she blamed the theft on a certain man who is above suspicion in this instance."