‘You hated her.’ Friðrikka had moved away from the window and now sat at the table, leaning forwards over the tabletop, which was covered with circular coffee cup stains.
‘What is wrong with you?’ Eyjólfur was still sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, his legs stretched out. Their argument was brief but had progressed more quickly than usual from silly remarks to earnest conflict. ‘I didn’t hate her. You’re nuts. I hardly knew her.’ The young man stared at Friðrikka’s back as if he would dearly love to throw something at her. ‘Who are you to talk about hate? As far as I recall, you hated Arnar yourself! You can pretend all you want in front of this lot, but you hated his guts!’
‘Shut your fucking mouth!’ She nearly screamed the last word. ‘Why should I have hated him? I felt sorry for him. You were awful to him.’
‘Oh, shut up. I wasn’t anything to anybody. You might not have joined in tormenting him, but you did nothing to help, just went along with it and laughed at everything, as long as Oddný Hildur didn’t see. If she was nearby you made sure you didn’t smile.’
‘Shut up yourself! I never laughed. I might not have been as brave as Oddný Hildur, but I didn’t encourage it. That’s bullshit. And it’s bullshit that I hated Arnar, just like everything else that comes out of your mouth. What reason did I have to hate him? He never did anything to me.’ Friðrikka turned abruptly and glared at Eyjólfur. ‘No, if anybody hated anyone here, it was you guys. You hated Oddný Hildur for reporting you to the owner for harassment. I wasn’t reported.’
‘You hated Arnar because Oddný Hildur was disappointed by how you treated him.’ Eyjólfur clenched his teeth and his jaw muscles bulged. This made his youthful face appear more mature and gave him the appearance of the adult that he would change into over time. ‘And I wasn’t reported either, just so we’re both clear on that.’
Thóra yawned discreetly. Their bickering was dying down, as she had hoped it would when she had made the decision not to intervene. ‘That’s enough, you two,’ she said, without much conviction.
‘I can’t just sit here and take this,’ said Friðrikka, looking to Thóra for support. She obviously hoped to find an ally in another female. She was wrong.
‘You started it, as far as I recall,’ said Thóra as indifferently as before. She was hungry again and envied Matthew, who had managed to fall asleep sitting next to her. Finnbogi seemed about to follow his example.
‘Yes, but . . .’ Friðrikka appeared to give up the fight. She looked angrily at Thóra and flopped back over the table. ‘Dóri and Bjarki hated Oddný Hildur. There’s no question about it.’
‘Jesus!’ Eyjólfur’s jaw had dropped. ‘I can’t believe you’d talk shit about people who aren’t here to defend themselves. Mind you, that’s just your style, so I don’t know why I’m so surprised.’ Neither of them had been told about the discovery of the body parts and it didn’t look like there would be any need to do so today, since they all seemed fated to hang around in this sainted meeting room forever.
‘What difference does it make whether they’re here or not?’ Friðrikka got up again. The buzz of the fluorescent lights intensified and one of them started blinking – not exactly the best thing for calming frazzled nerves. ‘They hated her for reporting them, and if she hadn’t disappeared they would have switched their bullying to her. Don’t try to deny it.’
‘Christ.’ Eyjólfur shook his head angrily. ‘I’m not having that. How do you know what would have gone on if this, that or the other had happened?’
‘That’s enough of your bloody bickering. Listening to the two of you makes me want to puke.’ Bella stood up and slammed her fist on the table. The Solitaire cards jumped and scattered. Eyjólfur and Friðrikka looked sheepishly at the furious secretary. ‘Keep your fucking mouths shut if you can’t talk to each other like normal people.’ She flung herself dramatically back down into her chair and gathered the cards. Then she started another round of Solitaire as if nothing had happened.
Thóra smiled to herself, but her amusement was short-lived. How exactly would things end up if they had to stay here much longer? The police would doubtless find other deaths to investigate. She looked around and tried to imagine what it would have been like to work here. To be stuck with your co-workers for weeks, never to be able to get away, to have to be around them regardless of what mood she was in. When you added conflict to the mix, as had obviously been the case here, it must have been a real trial. Maybe it was out of old habit that Eyjólfur and Friðrikka were always arguing. Maybe they knew no other pattern of communication.
Suddenly the floodlights came on outside. Thóra stood up and went to the window, more to have something different to do than out of any raging curiosity. The lights had been going on and off regularly due to the police driving in and out of the camp. What they were doing, Thóra didn’t know, but she guessed they were still searching for the missing body parts. Although it was dark outside now, so perhaps it wasn’t that, but either way something was going on; maybe they had business in the village, since they must at least have wanted to question the young woman and the hunter’s son. And of course the hunter himself. Maybe they were looking for him everywhere. Thóra watched a car drive up to the cafeteria. As she had thought, it was the police.
‘I’d do anything for a cup of coffee.’ Alvar ran his finger around one of the stains on the tabletop. ‘At the very least we should be able to have something to drink, seeing as how we can’t even help out.’
Thóra turned to him. ‘Shall I check and see whether we can get something from them?’ She longed to get out of the room even for just a few minutes. The fresh air would rejuvenate her and help her survive the night. ‘I’d really like a cup of coffee myself.’ She was glad that Matthew and the doctor were sleeping, otherwise one of them would have gone. She walked slowly to the door so as not to wake them, and carefully opened it onto the corridor. There she drew a deep breath, happy to be free of the room’s stale air. But it wasn’t until she went out onto the landing that her lungs got what they desired. She stood there for a few moments and enjoyed feeling the cold air stream into her. Then she set off, making sure not to walk too quickly, so she could relish her freedom for as long as possible. Her happiness was short-lived. When she walked around the corner of the building she was so startled that her stored-up energy vanished into the cold night. Up against the gable stood the hunter. Thóra would have missed him if he hadn’t spoken softly to her as she walked past. He had positioned himself behind a snowdrift that had formed near the wall of the building. He had probably found his chance to sneak into the camp when the police car set off the floodlights.
The man was far from being invisible or looking like he’d be capable of disappearing into his surroundings, but he seemed in some unfathomable way to assimilate with them, so that anyone not focused solely on searching for him would never notice him. Perhaps it was because he was so completely motionless. ‘The police are probably looking for you.’ Thóra’s voice was shrill with shock, but she could do nothing about it.
‘We’re all looking for something. I’m also looking – although not for myself.’ The man did not seem to move a muscle. ‘I’m looking for my daughter. The people here moved her and I have to know where she was laid to rest.’
Of everything that had happened in the camp this was the worst thing he could ask about. Thóra felt a lump in her throat. Oh, you mean her – yes, she was moved from her grave into some desk drawers. ‘I don’t have her.’ She could think of nothing better to say.
‘I will trade with you. I know that you are looking for someone from here. You will have her in exchange. I know that you moved my daughter. You laid the track. I will trade with you.’ The man seemed serious about this. He moved now, to adjust the rifle he held at his hip. Thóra hadn’t noticed it earlier and the weapon made her even more uneasy.
‘Do you have the woman who disappeared from the camp?’ Thóra tried to imagine how long it would take the police
to appear if she screamed with all her might. ‘Is she alive?’
‘No. Not any more.’ The hunter’s eyes narrowed. ‘Nor is my daughter. So it is a fair trade.’
Thóra had to ask about one thing, even though the man had a rifle and help was far away. ‘Did you cut the men up?’
The hunter’s surprise seemed sincere. ‘No. I do not understand what you mean. Will you trade with me or not?’
‘I can’t,’ replied Thóra. ‘The police have your daughter’s bones.’ She saw that the man was not pleased with this news. ‘You will get them back, definitely, but it won’t be immediately.’
‘Then when?’ A howl came from somewhere in the distance. First from one dog, but then others joined in. ‘I must have them back.’ Thóra tried to think logically. ‘I promise that you will get them back. It’s just not possible right now. The police have the bones because they were found here. Her cairn ended up beneath the track that you mentioned and they had no other choice but to move them. They tried to consult the villagers, and if the villagers had agreed to talk to them the bones would probably have been returned to you.’ She took a deep breath. ‘You’ve got to trust me and return the woman. It means a great deal to us, and she has a husband in Iceland who needs to know what happened.’ She regretted this last statement. If the hunter had murdered the woman, it was ridiculous to talk about finding out what had happened to her. ‘He has the right to stop hoping that she’s still alive.’
‘Hope is often better than certainty.’ The hunter suddenly became alert. He seemed to hear something that escaped Thóra’s notice. He looked at her and then nodded. ‘It will be here behind the house in just a short time. Go back in and do not come out again until half an hour from now. Do not go to the police until I am gone, and do not tell them that I was here.’ He saw that Thóra was struggling with these conditions. ‘Otherwise it will not happen. And I need to have Usinna’s bones as soon as possible.’
‘Fine. Agreed.’ Thóra felt her heart pound in her chest. ‘I’m leaving. I’m leaving now.’
The man nodded again silently and when it looked as if he would say no more she turned on her heel and hurried back into the office building. She stood for a long time in the vestibule and tried to get her bearings. If she told her companions about this, the police would learn of the man’s visit. Matthew was the only one she could trust with it. Her problem was not how to lighten her own burden, but how she could let the police know that Oddný Hildur had been found, and as soon as possible. She couldn’t allow foxes or other creatures to get to the body while she waited for the police to come across it by accident behind the building. They had already combed the whole area around the camp and it was unlikely that they would repeat the search without good reason. She took off her boots and made a decision – but she was not looking forward to it.
‘No coffee?’ Alvar stared at Thóra in surprise when she returned to the meeting room.
‘Oh, I decided not to go.’ Thóra had forgotten her original errand. ‘I realized I really couldn’t disturb them; they’re probably doing something important and they’d just have been annoyed. It’s not as though they’ve forgotten we’re here, so someone’s bound to come with food and drink for us soon.’ She squeezed out a smile, took a seat next to Matthew – who was still snoring – and tried to act as if everything were normal.
Friðrikka and Eyjólfur both sat in grim silence as the minutes ticked past. A quarter of an hour later the radiator switched itself on again. Thóra jumped slightly in her seat, because she understood what was happening. Fortunately no one seemed to take much notice of her reaction, except for Bella, who raised her eyebrows before continuing with her game of Solitaire. When just over half an hour had passed, Thóra acted as if she had heard something unusual. ‘What was that? Did you hear that?’ She looked around, hoping her acting was not as awful as she felt it was.
‘What?’ Eyjólfur was the only one who appeared interested. Alvar had raised his head from his chest but otherwise his curiosity did not appear to be aroused. However, when Eyjólfur stood up, he did the same.
‘It sounded to me as if it came from the corridor or behind the house.’ Thóra stood up too. ‘I’m going to go and see.’ She yawned in the hope that her actions would appear more casual than they actually were. She went out into the corridor, followed by Eyjólfur and Alvar. Matthew and Finnbogi slept on, Bella was too preoccupied with her game of Solitaire to bother getting up, and Friðrikka was still sulking. Thóra pretended to look down the corridor in both directions but then walked straight into the open office across from the meeting room. She went to the window and looked out. Now her acting skills would truly be put to the test. Eyjólfur saved her at the last minute when he pushed up next to her to see out.
‘Hey!’ He jumped back from the window. ‘What the fuck . . .?’
Thóra stared in silence at the body of Oddný Hildur, which lay face down in the snow between the office building and the apartments. She was wearing a large, bright yellow coat, with a Russian fur hat and matching boots. ‘Jesus,’ said Thóra, her mouth dry. ‘Who is that?’ She looked from the woman to Eyjólfur, who stood by her side, his face pale. ‘Is that Oddný Hildur?’
The young man shook his head. His adult expression was gone, and now he appeared even younger than he actually was. ‘It’s Arnar. What’s going on here?’
Chapter 31
23 March 2008
Arnar couldn’t decide whether he should go through with the follow-up treatment or go directly home from Vogur. He didn’t want to do either; there was nothing waiting for him at home and at Staðarfell Treatment Centre his own wretchedness would constantly be reflected in the other patients. In any case, he knew what went on there and he didn’t feel he needed it. If he remained dry it would be down to his own determination, not to whatever he did there.
‘How are you feeling?’ The therapist had come up behind him without his realizing it. He was too absorbed in his own thoughts. They seemed to be spinning in an endless circle from which it was impossible to break free. ‘It’s time to make the decision we discussed. I don’t want to push you, but you’ll be released shortly and there’s no reason to leave it until the last minute. It’s never a good idea to do it that way.’ The man was kind, he would give him that, but it irritated Arnar that he spoke to him like a child.
‘I know.’ Arnar sat stock-still. He hated wearing dressing gown and pyjamas in the middle of the day, and if he stood up his absurd outfit was even more noticeable. ‘I guess I’ll just go home.’
‘Do you think that’s wise?’ The man smiled warmly at Arnar, who had to look away. ‘Many people think that they can utilize the experience from previous follow-up treatments and skip it, but it rarely works that way.’
An exit from the vicious circle suddenly opened up and Arnar made his choice. ‘I’m going home. That’s my final decision. It’ll be fine.’
The therapist sat down opposite him. He made a point of looking deep into Arnar’s eyes, as if to make contact with his innermost self. ‘A phone call came for you today.’
Arnar’s heart skipped a beat. The man said this so cautiously that it couldn’t be anything good. What had he thought? That none of this would come to the surface and that life would continue on its merry way? Arnar blinked as he regained his composure, then stared back at the therapist as if he had just got something in his eye. ‘And?’ He took care not to show any sign of the tension that clutched at him.
‘Nothing, really. The decision was made to wait a bit before letting you know, since there seems to be something serious going on. It’s never good to tackle things like this when one is recovering.’ The man cleared his throat nervously. ‘I just wanted to tell you in the hope that it would get you to change your mind. You will need support and we can’t give it to you if you go home. Nobody copes well with dramatic events post-treatment.’
More than anything Arnar wanted to prise more information out of the therapist by remaining silent, but he d
idn’t want to take that chance. He had to know more. ‘What phone call are you talking about? Who called?’
‘A police officer in Greenland. And then an Icelandic lawyer called and said that she was also in Greenland and was extremely eager to speak to you. We generally block these kinds of calls, but it’s different when the police are involved.’ The man appeared to be trying to read Arnar’s expression, without success. ‘If the Icelandic authorities want to speak to our patients we have to permit it, even though it goes against our policy. This is the first time a foreign police force has wanted to speak to one of our patients, and we’re exploring what options are available to us. We suggested that they contact their Icelandic colleagues if they deemed the case to be serious, but the officer who called didn’t say whether they would try that. I didn’t speak to the man personally, so I’m simply telling you what I’ve heard.’
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