Yrsa Sigurdardóttir - My Soul to Take

Thóra put an end to his conjecture. “I think you’re letting your imagination run away with you. But I do agree that it sounds as if they suspect it was something more than an accident.” Casually, she added, “Did the police examine her room?”

“One of them took a look inside. The other waited outside in the corridor with me. He was only in there for a minute or two. Then when he came out again, he just shook his head.”

“So he didn’t say that any unauthorized person had been in there or ask you who had a key?” Thóra’s cheeks flushed slightly.

“No, nothing like that. They absolutely forbade anyone to enter until the CID had finished its work. Then they asked to see her car. They had the key in a little bag.”

Thóra nodded thoughtfully. There was really no question of the dead woman’s identity. “Well, I never.” Looking at Jónas, she suppressed the urge to ask him to stop fiddling with the damn bracelet. It probably had some connection with alternative medicine, energy fields or something. “Did anyone want Birna dead? Was she in some kind of trouble?”

Jónas shook his head slowly. “No, she was just normal.” Thóra couldn’t imagine what he considered normal, but assumed that his criteria were different from hers. “A great person and a brilliant architect.” Jónas smiled awkwardly. “Actually, she was a true Capricorn, consistent and committed. But a lovely person. A genuinely lovely person.”

“Didn’t anyone really dislike her?” Thóra asked. “Can’t you think of anyone who could have got into a dispute with her, something that could have got out of hand?”

Jónas pushed his bracelet back under his sleeve and gave Thóra his undivided attention. “Listen, I was wondering if it might be connected with the ghost.”

Thóra managed not to smile. “Are you implying that a ghost murdered her?” Jónas shrugged, then waved his hands. “What do I know? It seems like more than a coincidence. This place is haunted. Birna is found dead just outside. She was working on modifying the premises. Ghosts want to keep their surroundings the same as when they left them. They fight with all their powers against any kind of disruption. What are you supposed to believe?”

Not a paranormal enthusiast, Thóra had never heard much about the behavior of spirits. “Jónas, I think we can rule out involvement by a ghost.”

“Are you sure?” the hotelier asked. “Birna was very curious about the history of this place. She felt that she had to find out about it, because without that knowledge it was hard for her to get a feel for the site. We can’t rule out her stirring up the angry spirit of a deceased inhabitant, which cost her her life. Maybe not directly, but perhaps indirectly.” He went on, seeing that Thóra was lost for words. “There might not be a direct connection, but the situation now is this: this place is haunted, and the sellers concealed that fact. A woman has met a tragic death—perhaps because of something connected with the ghost. That will be difficult to rule out, because it can always be claimed that the murderer was governed by forces from beyond. Are you with me?”

Thóra could only shake her head.

“Yes, don’t you see? You tell the sellers that a woman has died here and there are stories that a ghost has played a major role. The whole business will be brought up in court. My feeling is that those people wouldn’t care to be linked to a murder, if only indirectly. Would you like to be a witness in a murder case in which the defense implied that you had kept quiet about information that led to such an atrocity?” Jónas shook his head on Thóra’s behalf. “No, you wouldn’t care for that. Nor would they. That might persuade them to negotiate compensation terms.”

Thóra interrupted him. “What difference would it make if you won compensation? You’re stuck with the hotel. Presumably you don’t want to break the contract at this stage? If you’re serious about this ghost, I doubt whether you can bribe it to leave.”

Jónas smiled. “Of course I can’t. But I imagine I’ll have to raise my staff’s wages so that they don’t all quit. They are spiritual people, sensitive toward supernatural matters. Some of them have already dropped hints about leaving. My business plan would be ruined and the small profit I was hoping for might easily be wiped out. Guests at places like this are sensitive too. They don’t seek the company of beings from beyond, especially not if it could cost them their lives.”

Thóra needed a while to digest this. She had no desire to force people to strike a deal by making absurd threats about linking their names to a murder, but Jónas’s claims about his staff were a concrete contribution. “Let me think it over.” She was about to stand up, then decided to stay put. “Actually, you still have to tell me all about this ghost. How exactly does it manifest itself?”

Jónas sighed. “Gosh, I don’t know where to begin.”

“At the beginning, perhaps,” suggested Thóra, a little irritated.

“Yes, that’s probably best,” agreed Jónas, brushing off Thóra’s slight. “As I told you, most of the staff here are more sensitive than ordinary people.”

Thóra nodded.

“They started sensing an uncomfortable presence. If I remember correctly, it was the aura reader—his name’s Eiríkur—who first noticed it. Then others became aware of it gradually. I brought up the rear, really. At first I thought it was just their imaginations.” Jónas regarded Thóra gravely. “It’s almost impossible to describe it to anyone who can’t sense these things, but I can tell you it’s by no means a pleasant feeling. Probably the best analogy is when you feel you’re being watched. As if someone’s sitting watching you from a dark corner. That’s the way I’ve felt, anyway.”

His story only strengthened Thóra’s conviction that this was a case of mass hysteria. One person had started a vague story and others had joined in until what they imagined had become a fact. “Jónas,” she said firmly, “you have to do better than this. Your claim is absolutely no use to me—I can’t face the sellers of this property and repeat what you’ve just said. We need something tangible. It’s not enough to say you get the occasional shiver down your spine.”

Jónas looked shocked. “It’s so much more than that. You can ignore a shiver; this feeling lasts. Oppressive may be the best word for it. Almost all of us have heard crying in the middle of the night, an infant crying.” Suddenly he became boastful. “And I’ve seen a fully fledged ghost. More than once, as it happens. Its presence has become more intense recently.”

“And where have you seen this ghost?” Thóra asked skeptically.

“Outdoors mainly. Outside here.” Jónas gestured toward the window behind him without looking around. “I can’t describe exactly where the ghost was; I’ve only seen it in the fog. Some ghosts appear in certain weather conditions and this one comes when it’s foggy.”

“So presumably you can’t describe it in detail?” Thóra asked.

“No, not really. Except that I know it’s a girl or a woman. The being was far too slight to be a male.” Jónas leaned back in his seat. “I also saw it appear in my mirror. There was no question that it was a girl. It happened quite quickly, but all the same …”

“You said you recognized the girl from a photograph you found. Surely it didn’t happen so quickly that you couldn’t manage to commit her features to memory?”

“Well, I don’t know how to describe it. I was brushing my teeth and I heard a rustling noise. I stood upright and watched in the mirror as the being darted past the door. My subconscious obviously managed to capture the features although I can hardly describe them, but I recognized the face from one of the photos.” Jónas opened a drawer in his desk and started rummaging while he continued his account. “I couldn’t even hold the photo after that. I threw it back in the box and closed it. You wouldn’t have any trouble examining it, but I simply can’t.”