"Yes, it's pretty clear that he wouldn't have gained much by killing Birna to prevent the child being discovered. Quite the contrary." Thora gazed at the old farmhouse through the windshield. "But it's a different story for Elin and her family. Berta, for instance, wouldn't have a place to stay here in the west. The house in Stykkisholmur belonged to Bjarni after Grimur got into financial difficulties, and his farm too. If Berta had no home here, Steini would have a pretty lonely life." She looked at Matthew. "Shouldn't we speak to him in person?" she said. "We've no idea when and where we'll catch up with Berta. Soldis must know where he lives, so that shouldn't be a problem."
"But what about Thorolfur?" asked Matthew. "Shouldn't we let him know, or even get him to go instead?"
Thora thought for a moment. "No, no. It's like with the wall. We have to be sure we're right before we inconvenience the police, and they've got their hands full at the moment."
MATTHEW AND THORA STOOD WAITING AT STEINI'S. HE'D CALLED out that he was just coming, but they had been waiting a while.
"He's not very fit—it's taking him ages," said Matthew, pulling his jacket closer around him. The temperature had dropped suddenly, and the air was damp, so they were chilled to the bone. "Brr. Are you sure it's June?"
Before Thora could answer, the door was opened, but only halfway. "What?" they heard, from beneath the familiar hoodie.
"Hello," said Thora as warmly as she could manage. "Do you remember us? We came out to Kreppa yesterday and met you with Berta, and we met down at the inlet too."
"Yeah, so, what do you want?" Steini's voice was so muffled that he sounded like he was talking with his mouth full. Thora suspected this was because he found it hard to open his mouth. She hoped it wasn't painful for him to speak. Whatever he had or hadn't done, she felt truly sorry for him.
"We wanted to speak to you," said Thora, hoping he would agree to let them in. "It's about Sunday evening."
The wheelchair backed away and the door opened wider. "Come in," he mumbled. Because of his impediment, it was impossible to tell whether he was worried at the prospect of speaking to them. Thora and Matthew exchanged discreet glances as they entered, but said nothing.
"Have you lived here long?" she inquired companionably as they sat down in the modest living room. At first glance, Steini's home seemed rather depressing. Everything was neat and tidy, but there was no sign that anyone lived there: no pictures on the walls, no personal effects, only his crutches propped up in the doorway to the living room, which was more welcoming than the hall. There was a vase filled with wild flowers. Thora supposed Berta had brought them, since it seemed inconceivable that the young man in the wheelchair would have picked flowers and arranged them in a vase.
"Yes," answered Steini, without elaborating.
"I see," said Thora. "I'd better get to the point. We were wondering whether you drove through the tunnel on Sunday evening. A car registered in your name went through at about dinnertime."
Steini said nothing. His head drooped even more. Then he spoke. "Yes, it was me," he said. As before, it was impossible to tell from his tone what he was feeling.
"May I ask what you were doing in Reykjavik?" she said.
"No," replied Steini. He glanced up suddenly from beneath the hood, and Thora had to steel herself to show no reaction. "Do you think I killed that man?" he asked. Now his feelings were clear enough. He was obviously furious. "Is that what you think?" He pushed himself up out of the wheelchair. He managed to keep his balance by grasping the armrests. One of his legs looked twisted and shrunken. There was no way a healthy limb could stay at that angle.
"No," she replied hurriedly. "That's not what we think at all." She added a white lie to cover her embarrassment. "We thought you might have lent someone your car. We're trying to work out who was where when Eirikur was murdered."
"I was nowhere near there, and not when Birna was murdered either," said Steini, collapsing back into the wheelchair.
Thora had grown accustomed to his strange voice, and now she could distinguish almost every word. He still looked very angry, and his breathing was shallow and uneven. Thora hoped he wasn't having a fit of some kind.
"An old grave has been discovered at the old farmhouse by the hotel," she said, hoping to take him by surprise and defuse his temper.
"Get out," he said unexpectedly. "I don't want you here." He rolled the wheelchair toward Thora.
Matthew, while not understanding the conversation, could see that the interview was over, and that the exchange between Thora and Steini had taken an unfortunate direction. "Well," he said, "let's be going." He took her hand and pulled her to her feet. He then turned to Steini to thank him before walking out of the room, making sure that Thora went first.
"He's not all there, but he's hardly capable of murder," he said when they'd shut the door behind them. Steini hadn't seen them out.
"But there's something strange about it," said Thora. "His reaction to the news about the grave wasn't quite natural. Or what he said about the tunnel, for that matter. Could he be covering up for the murderer?"
"I doubt it," said Matthew, holding the car door for her. "If he's not the killer, then it must be either Bergur or Baldvin. According to your theory, Steini has a grudge against Bergur because he's related to the person who caused the accident, and as far as we know, he has no connection to Baldvin, so he could hardly be covering for either of them."
"Damn," said Thora. "It was such a good theory." She got into the car and waited for Matthew to get behind the wheel. "But I quite agree that he couldn't have done it. He hasn't the physical strength. I also have my doubts about Bergur. He could have walked over to the hotel, taken the canoe, and paddled across to the inlet to kill Birna, but it's so illogical. Why wouldn't he simply drive over there? He wouldn't have had to pass over the hole in the road, as he wasn't coming from there. And when is he supposed to have stolen Jonas's phone and sent the text message to Birna?" She shook her head. "I don't think he's in the frame. Baldvin, however, was at the hotel, and he could easily have taken the phone. He was at the seance, but he left before the interval, so he could have hurried down to the jetty, stolen the canoe, gone over to the inlet, and attacked Birna. He had plenty of motive." Thora's phone rang.
"Hi. I've found it for you," said Gylfi. "It's the Latin name for aloe vera."
Thora thanked him and hung up. She looked at Matthew, who was fastening his seat belt. "What?" he asked when he realized she was staring at him.
"Why would a woman put aloe vera in her vagina? Is it used as a lubricant?" she asked.
Matthew laughed. "Why are you asking me? Do I look that worldly? Talk to your friend the sex therapist, not me." He backed out of the parking space. "Baldvin's Veritas car was still outside the hotel when we left," he said. "Shall we go and have a word?"
"Good idea." Thora grinned. "He's bound to tell the truth, right?"
Matthew turned the wheel and skidded off down the gravel road. "Absolutely. He's a politician."
Chapter 33
MATTHEW KNOCKED LOUDLY on the door of Magnus's hotel room. There had been no answer in Baldvin's room, so Matthew and Thora were hoping he was with his grandfather. veritas was in its usual place outside, so they must still be around somewhere. Thora rubbed her hands together as they heard a noise from inside. The door opened and Magnus stood before them. When he saw who his guests were, he scowled, but he looked too exhausted to be intimidating. " What do you want?" he snarled.
"We're actually looking for Baldvin," said Thora politely. "Is he here?"
"Who's asking?" called another voice from inside the room. "It's the lawyer and the German," Magnus replied, his frail hand still on the doorknob.
"Let them in," said Baldvin. "We've got nothing to hide." Magnus opened the door fully.
"Have a seat," said Baldvin, indicating two chairs. He sat in a third, while his grandfather made do with sitting on the bed. "What can we do for you?" he asked, resting his forearms on the table in front of
him. Thora was transfixed by his large, strong hands, recalling Throstur's remark that physical strength was needed to paddle a canoe. Baldvin would have no trouble, even in rough seas.
"I just wanted answers to a few questions," said Thora, shifting in her seat. "As I expect you know, I represent Jonas, the hotel owner. He is in police custody, in my view unjustly, for the murders that have been committed here."
"We know all about that," snapped Magnus. "If you're here to try to fit one of us up for the murders, it won't work. Neither Baldvin nor I had anything to do with them. In general the police arrest the right person, my dear. Maybe you should accept that fact, instead of pestering us."
"Now, now," said Baldvin to his grandfather, darting an apologetic smile at Thora. "We're both a little bit annoyed because we can't go home. The police asked us to stay here, as they want to talk to both of us. I'm not qualified to judge this Jonas's guilt or innocence, but I can declare in good conscience, like my grandfather, that we had nothing to do with it. Just ask your questions and maybe we can convince you."
"What brought you here on Sunday evening?" Thora asked bluntly. "Your car was driven though the Hvalfjordur Tunnel."
Baldvin leaned back in his chair and took his hands off the table. "You don't mince words," he said. "I didn't come here to kill that poor man, if that's what you mean."
"So what did you come for?" demanded Thora. "Surely you didn't drive all this way just to see your granddad?"
"No," said Baldvin. "I can tell you everything—I've decided to come clean. Although I'm not proud of what brought me here, I won't try to conceal it." He sat up straight. "I gather you found the photo, and I understand from the police that you're aware of Birna's attempt to blackmail me into ensuring she would win the competition for the new bus-station project." Thora nodded. "That woman was extraordinarily greedy," he said, adding hurriedly, "I'm not saying that justified someone killing her. Not at all. She phoned me; she e-mailed me; she hounded me, basically. She did the same to Granddad, who ended up discharging himself from a rehabilitation program to come up here and try to talk her around. He was devastated that his past had come to be a threat to me."
"That's very sad," remarked Thora sarcastically, "but you still haven't told me what you were doing here on Sunday."
"I came to break into Birna's room," Baldvin said candidly. "I'd heard the police hadn't finished searching the room properly and I was hoping to find the photo. It wasn't there."
"And on Thursday?" asked Thora. "The two of you left the seance just after it started and didn't go back. What happened?"
Baldvin smiled and gestured toward his grandfather. "Granddad felt faint. He wasn't well, so we left the seance. We weren't really interested in it, anyway. We only went because we were hoping to see Birna."
"Can anyone corroborate this?" Thora asked.
"Yes, absolutely," answered Baldvin cheerfully. "I took Granddad up to his room and called a doctor. I got the phone number of a colleague of his who was on duty locally and he came here. I should think he arrived about nine and left around ten."
Thora realized at once that this excluded both of them as suspects— in Birna's murder, anyway. She didn't need to ask for the doctor's name; she would leave it to Thorolfur to corroborate the story. "I see," she said, glancing at Matthew. "Well, I don't think there's anything else." She stood up. "Actually, there is one more thing. I probably ought to tell you, Magnus," she said, "that the skeleton of a child will be found here shortly. I believe the child was your daughter by Gudny Bjarnadottir, little Kristin."
"What?" croaked the old man. "My daughter?"
"Yes, the one Gudny wrote to you about," said Thora, taking a chance. "I think Grimur, Bjarni's brother, who lived on the next farm, killed the child to ensure that he, and not you, would inherit his brother's assets."
"Me? Inherit?" echoed Magnus, gray-faced. Thora noticed that he did not deny having received a letter.
"Actually," she interjected, "I believe you've forfeited your right to the inheritance by your failure to pursue the matter. You knew about the child, and you should have put in your claim for inheritance at that point. In fact, there's plenty more you should have done. For instance, you could have asked what had happened to the child, or acknowledged paternity at the time." She went to the door, followed by Matthew. "Perhaps if you'd done the right thing, there'd be no skeleton in the basement."
"But... " said the old man, his words trailing off. Baldvin said nothing, merely regarded his grandfather inscrutably. "How can you say that?" Magnus managed to say.
Thora turned in the doorway. "Because if Grimur had realized that Kristin had a father who knew of her existence, he wouldn't have been able to make her disappear." She smiled at the two men. "Goodbye. Nice to make your acquaintance." They left their hosts sitting as if turned to stone.
"That only leaves Bergur," Thora said, once they were outside. "He's the least likely of all, really. I can't see him getting in a canoe unless he had to, let alone sticking pins into someone."
"Life is full of surprises, though," said Matthew, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Who would have thought, for instance, that I would fall for a woman wearing dirty trainers?"
Thora looked down at her feet and grinned. Her trainers were rather shabby in comparison with Matthew's freshly buffed shoes. "Maybe the same person who could imagine I would fall for a man with a shoe-shine fetish."
THORA PACED BACK AND FOPTH, TRYING TO JUMP-START her thought process, with little success. She and Matthew had returned to her room, where she hoped to find inspiration. She marched up and down past the bed, while Matthew sat serenely in the armchair by the window, sipping a beer. "It must be Bergur. There's no one else left," he said, setting his glass down. "Unless it's Jonas."
Thora sighed. "We're screwed if that's the answer." She clutched at her hair, and continued pacing. "Is there really no other possibility?"
"I really don't think so—we've run out of men. Bergur and Jonas are the only two left."
"Pity the killer can't be a woman," said Thora. "I liked Rosa and Jokull as Bonnie and Clyde types. That rather lost its appeal when they turned out to be siblings." She stopped in her tracks and looked at Matthew. "Have you ever heard of a criminal brother and sister?"
He shook his head. "No, never. Only brothers. The Kray twins, for instance. Never brother and sister."
"Is it completely out of the question that Rosa could have come across Birna after the rape and killed her?" wondered Thora aloud. "No, that doesn't make sense," she continued.
Someone knocked at the door. Expecting it to be one of the children, Thora was a little surprised to open the door to Stefania.
"Hello," said the sex therapist, smiling nervously. "I just wanted to bring you something. I was actually hoping you'd come to me of your own accord, but apparently that's not going to happen." She shifted from one foot to the other, her hands behind her back, and Thora wondered what she was hiding there. "I can help you," Stefania added, still smiling.
Thora felt a knot form in her stomach. Surely the woman wasn't here to give her and Matthew advice on sex with an impotent partner? She swallowed the saliva that suddenly flooded her mouth. It would be hard to blame language problems, or claim this was a misunderstanding. "That's very kind of you," was all she could say. She didn't step back from the door, fearing that Stefania would come in and start talking to Matthew about his imaginary impotence. He would not see the humor in it, that was certain.
"Anyway," said Stefania. "I can see you're busy, so I'll just leave this with you." She handed Thora a small bag and went on. "You can call me anytime. I've put my business card in the bag. The appliance is self-explanatory—it's a dildo, but the design is completely new and really innovative. Once it has been on for some minutes, it squirts gel out of the front end. It makes the experience far more realistic. It's new on the market." She beamed proudly.
Thora stood gazing into the bag. "Oh. Gel. I see," she said, embarrassed. Suddenly she had
a flash of inspiration. She shoved the bag back to Stefania and hurried back into the room. "Hang on," she said to the sex therapist, who was staring at her open-mouthed. She returned with the box she'd borrowed from reception when collecting things from the basement. "Is this the same thing?" she asked, pointing out the words "Aloe Vera Action."
Stefania gaped at Thora, clearly doubting her sanity. "Um, no," she said, watching as Thora's enthusiasm gave way to disappointment. "This is the older model. Yours is newer." She regarded Thora suspiciously. "Those sold out recently. They were hugely popular. Actually, the last one was stolen," she added. "Only last week there was a break-in, and I've just done inventory and found out what's missing. I was intending to give you the last one." She looked at Thora, still a little confused. "The model I gave you is just as good. The only difference is that the lubricant gel isn't made with aloe vera."
"A break-in?" exclaimed Thora. "When did this happen?"
"Last week," said Stefania. "Let me see, I left on holiday on Tuesday and everything was in its usual place, but when I got back on Friday, I saw that the lock had been forced. Birna's murder was more important, of course, and in any case I thought at first that nothing was missing. Not until just now, when I was looking for the toy for you."
Thora hastily thanked the sex therapist and shut the door. She turned back into the room, still holding the box. "Guess what?" she said. "Rosa's back on the list. Right at the top of it, in fact."
Matthew gazed at her, bemused by her agitated state. "How did that happen?" he inquired.
"Birna wasn't killed by a man; it was a woman. The rape was staged to mislead the police." Thora placed the box on the floor. "Who would do such a thing?" She answered her own question. "A woman, of course. A woman who didn't know about the aloe-vera gel."
Matthew was still regarding Thora quizzically. "I think you may need to explain this to me a little more clearly," he suggested, taking another sip of beer.
My Soul to Take: A Novel of Iceland Page 32