My Soul to Take: A Novel of Iceland

by Yrsa Sigurdardottir

  "Oh?" said Stefania, curious. "What's happened?" She was irritated— something always happened when she was away. She went home to the nearby village of Hellnar in the evenings and rarely worked weekends. That may have been one reason why she didn't get on with the other employees, most of whom stayed in small chalets that Jonas had had built next to the hotel.

  "A body was found on the beach. Down in the bay, right by the cave." Vigdis paused dramatically before continuing. "They think it was

  Birna, the architect." Again she paused. "She was probably murdered." She glowed smugly as Stefania turned pale and clutched her chest. "Are you making this up?" gasped Stefania.

  "Nope, I swear. Dead, probably murdered." Vigdis turned back to her computer and changed the subject just to annoy her colleague. "Do you have an empty box to give to the lawyer? She needs a large one to put some stuff in."

  "What? Oh, sure," Stefania said distractedly. What on earth had happened? She thought about the counseling she had recently given to the poor woman. Had her advice led to the woman's death? Dazed, Stefania mumbled a farewell and started to hurry away, but she needed to know one more thing. She turned back. "Was sex anything to do with it? Do you know if she was raped by any chance?"

  "Yes, I think she was," Vigdis replied, although she hadn't the faintest idea. Something told her this answer would get a reaction.

  Stefania turned and walked off toward her office, blushing furiously. This was all she needed.

  Thora put the heavy cardboard box on the newly made bed in her hotel room. She grimaced at the labeling on its side. When she had collected the box, she had initially thought it was a joke, some kind of candid-camera stunt. The box was labeled in English on all sides with large black letters, vibrating dildo. genuine rubber. new aloe vera action! For customers with limited English, a drawing of the contents had helpfully been provided. Thora had blushed to the roots of her hair when she took the box from Vigdis at reception, who said, "I didn't think this was as bad as the artificial-vagina box." She smiled sweetly and added, "The only person with any spare boxes was the sex therapist. Sorry."

  It had taken Thora most of the morning to go through the remaining items in the basement and gather together the ones that interested her. She was only concerned with old documents, letters, and photographs, and left the rest behind: cups, clocks, candlesticks, and other ornaments. She put papers that were clearly irrelevant back into the old boxes, but took all the photographs regardless of what they showed, since she couldn't tell what she might find when she took a look at them in a better light.

  There weren't many, but one in particular aroused her interest— it was in a beautiful old frame and showed a teenage girl whom Thora was fairly certain was Gudny Bjarnadottir from the old farm. The girl was sitting on a hillside with her legs folded under her, smiling prettily into the camera. She was wearing a lowcut white blouse with a large bow at the front. The blouse somehow emphasized that this was a young girl and not a woman, but Thora was fairly sure the girl had intended it to have the opposite effect. She put the photograph on her bedside table. It was hard to make it balance, because the stand had been damaged in storage. Taking a long look at the picture, Thora prayed that Soldis's story about incest on the farm was pure fiction. If not, she was almost certainly looking at the victim.

  Thora's stomach rumbled. A glance at the clock told her that it was well past twelve. She phoned reception and found out that the kitchen was open until half past one. She'd have to be quick. She hastily washed her hands and combed her tangled hair. Being in the basement hadn't made her look her best, but she wasn't about to let dirty clothes stop her from reaching the dining room before it closed. She could always turn up dressed to the nines that evening to make up for being scruffy now.

  There was only one other guest in the dining room when Thora entered. It was the elderly man whom she had taken for an accountant or lawyer at breakfast. He didn't look up or make any attempt to greet her, just stared sadly out through the window, oblivious to the fact that the number of diners had doubled. Where had she seen him before? Thora chose a table a good distance from him.

  She was barely seated when a young man with a professional smile came over and handed her the menu. After thanking him, Thora ordered a glass of sparkling water to begin with. While the waiter fetched it, she read the lunch menu and chose an omelette with salad. According to the description, the salad was supposed to contain dandelion and sorrel, and she selected it more from curiosity than any other motive. The waiter appeared with her drink at the very moment she put the menu down and he praised her for her choice when she ordered. Thora suspected he would have done just the same had she ordered raw pork, if it had been available. He did not give an impression of great sincerity.

  "Is there any news about the body that was found?" she asked as he filled her glass with water.

  Startled by her question, he splashed a little water on the cloth. "Oh, sorry. I'm so clumsy," he said as he took a linen napkin from the next table.

  "That's okay." Thora smiled. "It's only water." She waited for him to finish mopping it up. "So is there any news?"

  The waiter wrung the damp napkin between his hands and prevaricated. "Um, it's all a bit embarrassing. I really don't know what I'm allowed to say. The owner's holding a meeting with us later to outline what we should tell the guests. We don't want to start rumors that could cause you unnecessary stress. People come here to rest."

  "I'm not a regular guest. You can tell me anything. I'm working for Jonas. I'm his lawyer, so I'm not just being nosy."

  The waiter looked dubious. "Oh. I understand." He clearly didn't, because he said nothing else.

  "So you don't know any more about it? Has the victim been formally identified?"

  "No, not officially. Everyone agrees that it's Birna, the architect." He shrugged. "But it may turn out to be someone completely different."

  "Did you know her?" asked Thora.

  "Slightly," replied the waiter. Thora found his face hard to read. "She was here a lot, so I couldn't help having dealings with her."

  "You don't sound as though you thought much of her." Thora sipped her fizzy drink and felt the dust from the basement washing away down her throat.

  The waiter had clearly had enough of this conversation. "I'd better take your order to the kitchen. The chef sulks if he has to stay later than half past one." Then he smiled. "To tell you the truth, I couldn't stand her. She was a total bitch and her being dead doesn't alter that. She's still a bitch." He walked away.

  Thora watched him until he disappeared inside the kitchen with her order. So not everyone agreed with Jonas that Birna had been a lovely person. If the corpse even was Birna.

  After lunch, Thora went back to her room. She had not managed to wheedle any more information out of the waiter, apart from the fact that his name was Jokull. In the end she had been alone in the dining room, because soon after the waiter had taken her order to the kitchen, the elderly man had stood up and left without so much as a glance at her. Thora had watched him walk past and again had the feeling that there was something familiar about his face, but she couldn't place him. It could have been anyone, a bus driver from her childhood, perhaps, but she still thought that she ought to recognize him.

  Thora looked at the dreaded box and sighed. She was well aware that the most sensible thing to do would be to get started going through its contents, or sneak a look at Birna's diary, but the thought of a quick shower was far too tempting. She could get rid of the dust from the basement and have a lie-down. Siestas were a luxury she could rarely allow herself; there were always chores to do at home, and her own bed was nowhere near as appealing, soft, clean, or elegant. She treated herself to both.

  Thora woke with a start. She had set the alarm clock towake her up after an hour, but it hadn't gone off. She looked around the room, perplexed, until a knock on the door made her realize where she was. She reached for the dressing gown she had put on after her shower and called out ho
arsely, "Who is it?" There was no reply, just another knock. She put on the gown, ran over to the door, and opened it enough just to put her head outside. "Hello?"

  "Hello, yourself," said Matthew. "Aren't you going to let me in?"

  Thora cursed herself for her lack of makeup and for her damp hair, which she had been sleeping on. She ran her hand over it in a vain attempt to tame the wild mop. "Well, hello. So you found it."

  Matthew came in, grinning. "Of course. It wasn't complicated." He looked all around. "Nice room." His eyes came to rest on the box from the sex therapist.

  Thora hadn't thought to push the box out of sight. She smiled awkwardly.

  "Looks like I came just in the nick of time," he said.

  Chapter 9

  Thora had never tried anything like the box's former contents, but she was quite convinced that such devices paled in comparison with the real thing, just like all other surrogates. Smiling to herself, she sat up in bed. Her dressing gown lay crumpled on the floor and she stretched out lazily to pick it up. She should do this sort of thing more often, she thought as she wrapped it around herself and looked for her clothes. Although she had been completely uninhibited before, she wanted to be wearing something when Matthew came back. He had popped out to his rental car to fetch his luggage and throw it into the room he had booked. Thora couldn't see what use he had for a room of his own, but she appreciated the courtesy he had shown her by not assuming that he could jump straight into bed with her—even though he had. She smiled again at how terribly pleased she was to see him, glad that he had come in spite of her objections. The problem was, their relationship was already doomed. He was a foreigner and unlikely to thrive in Iceland. When he arrived, she had awkwardly tried to find a topic of conversation and asked him what he thought of the Eurovision Song Contest winner. He had given her a blank look and asked if she was joking. Anyone who was not interested in Eurovision would hardly last a week in Iceland. She dressed hurriedly.

  Matthew reappeared just as she was putting on her second sock. "Damn," he said, disappointed. "I'd forgotten that you're the world champion in speed-dressing." He smirked at her. "Of course, the upside is that you're pretty quick at undressing too."

  "Very funny," said Thora. "What do you think of the hotel?"

  Matthew took a look around and shrugged. "Great. A bit off the beaten track. But what on earth are you doing here?" He added quickly, "Not that I'm complaining, not at all."

  "I'm working for the owner. He's thinking of suing the people who sold him the property."

  "Ah. Was he ripped off?" Matthew asked. He walked over to the window and pulled open the curtain to admire the view. "Lovely," he said, and turned back to Thora.

  "Oh, it's all quite silly, really. He claims this place is haunted and the previous owners must have known."

  "Haunted, yes." Matthew's expression was the one she expected to see on the judge's face, if the case ever went that far. "You don't say."

  "The business here is vulnerable to that kind of thing, so it's not quite as absurd as you might think." Thora smiled at him. "It's a New Age hotel. They focus on things such as healing, clairvoyance, organic food, crystals, magnetic fields, aura readings, and all that. Most of the staff are clairvoyant, or worse, so they're not very fond of ghosts."

  "Indeed," said Matthew, pulling a face. "So, all perfectly normal."

  "God, no," Thora hurried to say. "But in fact it's not that unusual in a place like this, which has long been considered a center for belief in the supernatural, so to speak. Legend has it that the glacier is inhabited by a man named Bardur who went inside it in a bout of depression after his daughter drifted away to Greenland on an iceberg. He's considered to be the guardian spirit of the area, and the glacier's supposed to have supernatural powers. I don't know whether the powers belong to this Bardur or the glacier itself."

  "Supernatural powers from a glacier?" Matthew's disbelief was written all over his face. "It's just a mountain with snow on it that never melts, correct me if I'm wrong."

  "Ha, ha," Thora said. "I'm just telling you the background, not my opinion. Faith in the power of the glacier goes way beyond Iceland— people flocked here from all over the world to welcome aliens from outer space just before the turn of the century."

  "And of course that wasn't a wild-goose chase, was it?"

  Thora shrugged. "Opinions differ. The spokesman for the group said they had come, but just in spirit. No spaceship or anything. Some kind of mental transportation."

  "'Mental' being the operative word, I suppose?" Matthew grinned.

  Thora returned his smile. "Could well be. But it is an incredibly powerful mountain."

  "And where does the body fit into the picture?"

  "Oh, that. The body's nothing to do with this spiritual stuff, actually. I don't think so, anyway. The owner doesn't agree entirely. He thinks the ghost's involved somehow. He's quite an unusual character."

  "You don't say," rejoined Matthew, frowning. "Was the body found here at the hotel?"

  Thora gave Matthew a brief account of where the body had been found, telling him that it was a woman who had been working for Jonas and she was thought to have been murdered.

  "And is there a suspect?"

  "Not to my knowledge," Thora replied. "I doubt whether the police have even formed an opinion yet. The case is still at the most preliminary stage."

  "I hope for your sake that it's not this Jonas," said Matthew.

  "No, it's definitely not him," Thora said airily, then added cautiously, "As it happens, I do have something that might shed light on the matter."

  "You've got something? What kind of something?" asked Matthew. His eyes were bright with curiosity.

  "Well, I have the diary of the woman who is very likely the murder victim. A sort of notebook, really," Thora replied, blushing but affecting nonchalance.

  "What?" Matthew exclaimed. "Did you know this woman?"

  "Never met her."

  "But you have her diary? How did that come about?" "I came across it," she said, then added more truthfully, "I stole it, really. Accidentally."

  Matthew shook his head. "Accidentally, right." He clasped his hands in prayer and looked up to heaven. "Dear God, don't let her have killed the architect for the diary. Even accidentally."

  Jonas stood in the lobby watchingthree plainclothes detectives prepare to examine Birna's car. They had driven up in a customized van and parked it to one side. There, they had jumped out and, without announcing themselves to anyone at the hotel, begun photographing the little sports car and the ground around it. Vigdis had phoned Jonas from reception to let him know as soon as she noticed the van, and he had run down to the lobby.

  "What are they doing, anyway?" Vigdis asked.

  Jonas jumped. He had been so preoccupied with watching the detectives at work that he hadn't noticed Vigdis. Clutching his heart, he looked at her. "Christ, you scared me." Then he went back to watching what was going on outside. "They're examining Birna's car, as far as I can see. God knows why."

  Vigdis squinted for a better look. "Do they think she was murdered in the car, or what?"

  Jonas shook his head. "Hardly. The car hasn't been moved for days. I'm sure I told them that."

  "What difference does that make?" Vigdis asked. "I mean, she could still have been killed in the car, right there in the car park."

  Jonas spun around to face her. "That's fucking nonsense. For a start, we don't know whether it was murder yet, let alone where it might have happened."

  Vigdis shrugged. "Who do you think would drown on the beach here? It's this deep." She held her thumb and index finger a centimeter apart. "She must have been murdered."

  Jonas was about to tell Vigdis not to exaggerate when he saw one of the detectives take his mobile out of his pocket. The distant ringing could be heard from where they were standing. The detective answered the call and they watched him talking. Suddenly he looked up in the direction of the lobby. His gaze fixed on Jonas, who felt his s
tomach sink.

  The officer ended the call without taking his eyes off the hotelier, and walked over toward the entrance.

  "Wow," Vigdis whispered to Jonas. "Did you see that? He's definitely coming to talk to you."

  Thora rushed to Jonas’s office. He had phoned and asked her to come, without any explanation except that the police were making allegations against him that he knew nothing about. She had a weird feeling that Matthew's remarks about Jonas had been a premonition, and for an instant the thought crossed her mind that the glacier might have strange powers after all.

  "Excuse me," she said after knocking on Jonas's office door and opening it. Jonas was sitting behind his desk, facing someone, his face bright red. The other man had his back to her. He looked around when she said brightly, "Everything all right in here?"

  "No, it's certainly not all right," the hotel owner snapped, standing up to pull up a third chair.

  The police officer was middle-aged and very tall. He lifted himself five centimeters out of his seat and extended his hand to Thora. That was enough for her to realize that he was also extremely wide and well muscled. "Hello. I'm Thorolfur Kjartansson, detective."

  "Hello. Thora Gudmundsdottir, lawyer." They shook hands. "What's the problem?" she asked, directing her words at Jonas.

  "They seem to think that I'm somehow involved in that woman's death," Jonas snarled. He gestured at the man facing him and added, "He gets to take away my computer and printer, and he says he has a warrant to take my mobile phone." In his fury, Jonas was suddenly lost for words and made do with scowling at Thorolfur.

  "I see," Thora said calmly. "May I see the warrant? I'm Jonas's lawyer and he's asked for my legal counsel."

  Thorolfur silently handed her a printout. Skimming it, Thora saw that it was a warrant issued by the West Iceland District Court to seize Jonas Juliusson's mobile telephone, citing as grounds that it was in the interest of the investigation into the murder of Birna Halldorsdottir. Thora's heart skipped a beat. Here it was in black-and-white.