Viktor Ingolfsson - The Flatey Enigma

“It’s not often that you see one of those in Flatey,” Hogni said as they set off and Johanna opened the umbrella.

“No, people around here are so used to having their faces pelted by the rain it doesn’t bother them. I’m more delicate,” Johanna answered. Then they walked in silence.

Hogni wasn’t sure, but he thought he might have spotted Kjartan’s-the magistrate’s assistant’s-coat in the hallway of the doctor’s house.

Question thirty-one: The cause of the death of King Harald Gormsson. Fifth letter. The Jomsvikings saga tells of a man called Palnatok, who was a Viking, lived in Fjon, and was one of the most powerful men in Denmark, apart from King Harald Gormsson. There were feuds between these leaders, which culminated with Palnatok coming to a place where the king was resting by a fire in the evening after a battle. The king was stooped over the fire with his chest leaning forward and his ass in the air. Palnatok heard the king talking, armed his bow with an arrow, and fired. It is said that the arrow shot up straight up the king’s ass and out his mouth. He dropped dead, as was to be expected. The cause of his death was the “arrow up his ass,” and the fifth letter in the answer is w.

Inspector Thorolfur scrutinized the woman who sat facing him, bolt upright, on the other side of the school desk. She seemed calm and reflective and had been waiting in silence since they had shook hands and sat down. District Officer Grimur awaited further instructions by the door.

“Should we call in more people?” he asked.

Thorolfur shook his head. “No, let’s wait a bit. This will be a long interview.”

He turned to Johanna. “Let’s start by talking about Professor Gaston Lund. Do you remember him coming to you last autumn to obtain some seasickness tablets?”

“Yes, I remember that.”

“Did he get the tablets?”

“Yes. They’re kept in the pharmacy.”

“What happened then?”

“He went off to catch his boat.”

“Are you sure he caught that boat?”

“No, I don’t know anything about that. I didn’t follow him.”

“Did he stay with you longer than he needed to when he bought the seasickness tablets?”

“Yes, he stayed on a bit with me and my father.”

“Why was that?”

“We knew each other from the days when my father and I lived in Copenhagen.”

“So it was, in fact, a reunion?”

“Professor Lund and my father were happy to have the opportunity to meet again.”

Thorolfur unfolded a sheet of paper on his desk. “As you can appreciate, there are many people working on this investigation. Both in Copenhagen and Reykjavik. They’ve been talking to people to try and understand what kind of lives Gaston Lund and Bryngeir led. Is there anything in particular you would like to say before we continue with this interview?”

Johanna gave Thorolfur a long stare, and then she shook her head with a numb smile. “Let’s just assume your colleagues are doing their job right and you, yours and just see what happens.”

“Very well, if that’s the way you want it.” Thorolfur picked up the sheet. “Here’s the first telegram with information on this case. We asked people in Copenhagen if they knew of anyone in Iceland who might bear a particular grudge against the professor. People could only think of one name.”

“Really, and what name was that?”

“Bjorn Snorri Thorvald. Isn’t that your father’s name?”

“Yes.”

“Professor Lund, therefore, wasn’t exactly welcomed with open arms when he visited your home last autumn?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact he was. My father and Lund were actually very good friends and colleagues at the Arnamagn?an Institute for many years. The friendship then became increasingly strained during the German occupation of Denmark and turned to hostility at the end of the war. But when Professor Lund came into our home by sheer coincidence last autumn, they chatted for a while and were fully reconciled again. I think they both felt better after that.”

“Is there someone who can bear witness to what you’re saying?”

“No, my father’s dead, as you probably know.”

“What fueled this hostility in the first place?”

“My father was fired from his post at the Arnamagn?an Institute and he partly blamed the professor for it.”

“Why was your father fired?”

“I’m sure your men in Copenhagen will dig up a plausible explanation for that. It only happened fifteen years ago, and somebody should be able to remember the story.”

Thorolfur clenched his fists and leaned over the desk. “It would speed up our interview here if you would be willing to collaborate with us,” he said.

Johanna smiled coldly. “Yes, that’s probably true. Maybe I should explain it to you, since I doubt that your men will either have the ability or the will to get to the bottom of what really happened.”

Johanna told the inspectors how she had been brought up traveling with her father across the Nordic countries and Germany. How her father continued to travel to Germany after Denmark was occupied, and how he stirred up animosity among his colleagues at the Arnamagn?an Institute and the Royal Library. Finally the war ended and the Germans abandoned Copenhagen.

“I accompanied my father to the institute as usual that morning, but just as he was about to enter they blocked him. Then some superior came to tell him that his post had been abolished and that he no longer had access to the manuscript collection. He was given no explanation, and he was escorted out of the building when he started to raise his voice. A number of employees witnessed the scene, including Professor Lund. I don’t know how it would have ended if Fridrik Einarsson, his Icelandic friend, hadn’t been there to break it up. Fridrik then took us to his home and offered us some refreshments. He could tell my father that his lecture tours around Germany had probably been the cause of this animosity. He suggested we go to Iceland with him and his family a few weeks later and suggested we stay there until the turmoil had blown over.”

“Did you move to Iceland then?”

“Yes.”

“But did you never go back to Copenhagen?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“My father desperately tried to get his post back from Iceland, but failed. I’d also grown opposed to the idea of moving away from Iceland because I got to know Einar, Fridrik’s son, when we stayed with them in Copenhagen and when we traveled on the ship together. He was the first friend of my own age I’d ever had, and he then became my boyfriend. He was a great guy and I couldn’t think of leaving him. We were together for the first few years of high school, and then he died in an accident.”

Thorolfur scribbled down a note and then asked, “You were called upon to examine the bodily remains of Gaston Lund when he was found and transported here last week, were you not?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t recognize him?”

Johanna smiled numbly. “It would be easy for me to say I didn’t. No one could doubt me, considering the state of the body. And it would be easier for me if I stuck to that version, but I don’t want to lie. I recognized him as soon as I opened the casket.”

“Why didn’t you say so?”

“I was in such a terrible state of shock. And I thought of my father. The cancer had progressed so far and he only had a few days to live. He wasn’t suffering, though, because I’d managed to treat the pain quite effectively. At that moment I couldn’t bear the thought of him spending his last hours agonizing over the fate of his friend. So I decided to postpone any revelations, while I was still catching my bearings. It wouldn’t really have greatly changed the outcome of the investigation, since the man had been dead for several months anyway. It was just a twenty-four-hour reprieve, and that was all I needed. My father died without ever knowing about this incident.”