Girls Who Lie

by Eva Bjorg AEgisdóttir

  ‘Shall we get going?’ Tinna said abruptly, and Hekla looked up. She had been so sunk in thought that she hadn’t even noticed that Tinna was standing fully dressed in front of her, waiting. Hekla got up and followed her. It was a relief to breathe in the cold, fresh air outside. Tinna’s phone rang.

  ‘Who was that?’ Hekla asked, after Tinna had hung up.

  ‘Mum,’ Tinna replied, pulling up her hood. She met Hekla’s eye for a moment, then smiled. ‘She’s coming to pick us up.’

  ‘Why?’ Hekla asked. They usually walked home as it wasn’t far, and the weather was dry and windless.

  Tinna shrugged without answering. A few minutes later, a white Volvo drove into the car park in front of the sports hall. Tinna got in the front, Hekla in the back. Margrét turned and said hello, her perfect face wearing a smile. Tinna had inherited her mother’s smile and adopted many of her gestures, but apart from that they looked quite different. Sometimes, though, it seemed as if Tinna was trying to be exactly like Margrét. She wore her hair up in the same style, and pinched her mother’s clothes. Margrét even did her make-up for her some mornings before school, and once she had made up all three of the friends before a school dance.

  Hekla leant back against the seat. She could hear mother and daughter talking quietly in the front but didn’t even try to listen in. The car picked up speed, and Hekla opened her phone. Next time she raised her eyes, the surroundings had changed. Out of the window she saw snowy fields and a bunch of horses standing in a huddle.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  Tinna twisted round. ‘Just on a little outing.’

  ‘But … but what about Bergrún and Fannar?’

  ‘I’ve spoken to Bergrún,’ Margrét said. Hekla met her eye in the rear-view mirror. ‘She said you could come with us.’

  Hekla looked out of the window again. They were driving past the lower slopes of Mount Hafnarfjall now. On the other side she could make out birch scrub standing out black against the bluish-white snow, and beyond that the sea and the distant lights of Borgarnes, her old home. Hekla’s thoughts suddenly went to Maríanna, and she was hit by a sense of loss that took her by surprise. The longer ago it was, the more she found herself remembering the good times and forgetting the bad. Strange, because all she had been able to remember immediately after Maríanna’s disappearance were the bad times. When she lied to the police and told them she hadn’t gone over to Akranes, it was because she’d thought Maríanna would turn up and she hadn’t wanted to get into trouble. The last time she’d sneaked over to Akranes without permission, Maríanna had refused to let her go to Bergrún and Fannar’s for the weekend, which meant she hadn’t seen them for three whole weeks.

  She gazed at the back of Tinna’s head. Her friend had started braiding her blonde hair. Her fingers moved nimbly as the plait formed. Tinna seemed to sense her watching because she turned quickly and smiled. Hekla hurriedly dropped her eyes, feeling her cheeks grow hot.

  ‘I’d say we have sufficient grounds to justify a house search.’ Elma drew her hair back from her face and tied it in a pony-tail. She was hot and out of breath, as if she’d been running, and could feel sweat breaking out under her arms.

  ‘Yes. I’ll get a warrant,’ Hörður said.

  ‘We could go straight over there,’ Sævar suggested.

  Elma glanced at the clock. It was getting on for five. ‘She’ll have set off for work by now.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it be better to wait for her to get home, then?’ Hörður asked. ‘We don’t want to risk her trying to make a run for it.’

  ‘Lucky we live on an island,’ Sævar commented. ‘People can’t run far, unless they take a plane, and then it should all be recorded.’

  ‘Plenty of people have got round that,’ Elma pointed out.

  ‘It’s still unbelievable how often people have disappeared on this little island of ours,’ Hörður said, leaning back. ‘You only have to look at this case. How many people must have walked through the Grábrók lava field without spotting Maríanna? There were locals staying in summer houses all around the area and tourists everywhere. No, I reckon there are quite a few hiding places in this country.’

  ‘You’re right, of course,’ Sævar admitted.

  ‘Yes, indeed, there are countless examples,’ Hörður said, smothering a yawn.

  Elma studied him speculatively. He’d been unusually hands-off for the past few days, leaving them to take care of the investigation more or less on their own, only dealing with the formalities. Gígja’s illness had obviously taken its toll.

  ‘Anyway,’ he said. ‘I’m going to get hold of that warrant and call out forensics.’ He got to his feet and went out, closing the door behind him.

  ‘Did she really drag her daughter into it?’ Elma asked, once he had gone. She was finding it hard to get her head round the bus driver’s claim. ‘Or could it have been Hekla?’

  ‘No, surely not. Isn’t it more likely that Hekla was telling the truth? That she’d set off for home before her mother went round to Margrét’s place?’

  ‘Yes, maybe.’

  ‘Not that I can picture it,’ Sævar added, after a pause.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Margrét’s just so…’

  ‘I know.’ When Elma pictured Margrét as she appeared on the TV screen, it seemed absurd to imagine her being capable of murdering anyone. She looked at Sævar, adding teasingly: ‘Is your sensor on the blink?’

  ‘What?’ Sævar raised his eyebrows.

  ‘Your sensor. You know, the one you claimed you had.’

  ‘Oh, that. It tends to malfunction when it comes to attractive girls.’ He smiled wryly. ‘That’s why I can never read you.’

  Elma blushed, though she knew Sævar wasn’t being serious. Ignoring his remark, she said: ‘Perhaps it was self-defence. Perhaps Maríanna started it.’

  ‘Then why dispose of the body instead of calling the police?’

  Before Elma could answer, her phone rang. She picked it up and saw Jakob’s number. Muting it, she put it back in her pocket. Once again she would have to disappoint him and cancel this evening. And bad though it was, she couldn’t bring herself to tell him.

  The car stopped at last. It was getting on for six and already pitch dark outside. When Hekla looked out of the window, she could barely see a thing.

  ‘Where are we?’ she asked, rubbing her eyes.

  ‘You’ll see,’ Tinna replied, opening the door.

  Hekla followed her example. The snow crunched underfoot when she stepped out of the car, but apart from that the silence was complete. The sky was bright with stars and there was a half moon. She looked around. Now that her eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness she could see the lava on the other side of the road. The jagged rocks looked ominous in the moonlight, and she had a sense of being watched, as if she had caught a movement out there in the gloom.

  ‘Right, follow me,’ Margrét said, and set off along a path that led up a slope.

  The snow squeaked underfoot. Ahead, Tinna was walking beside her mother, humming a tune. After they had gone a little way, their breath rising in clouds, Hekla saw a summer house with a sloping roof and a large sundeck. She wondered if the plan was to spend the night there. She hadn’t brought any luggage with her, only her backpack containing her sweaty sports kit. It struck her as odd that Bergrún had agreed to let her go with them to the summer house, since tomorrow was a school day. It wasn’t like her.

  Margrét had a bit of a struggle to get the door open, but once they were inside, Hekla forgot all about Bergrún. She’d never seen such a luxurious summer house. She had sometimes stayed in rented places with Bergrún and Fannar, but they had been nothing like this. The floor was tiled with grey stone slabs and there were large wooden beams running across the ceiling. In the sitting room, a dark-brown corner sofa and an armchair with a white fleece over it were arranged in front of a concrete hearth, and there was a reindeer’s head on the wall. The dining table was large enoug
h to seat ten with ease, and over it hung a magnificent chandelier that would have been perfectly at home in a Scottish castle.

  ‘Wow,’ she breathed.

  ‘Nice?’ Tinna grinned.

  Lost for words, Hekla just nodded.

  ‘It’s freezing in here,’ Margrét said. She turned on the lights and checked the contents of the kitchen cupboards. ‘I’m going to light the hearth. Would you girls like to sort out your beds upstairs?’

  Hekla looked up and saw that there was a sleeping loft with a handrail that opened into the living space.

  Margrét stopped them as they were about to climb the ladder.

  ‘Your phones, girls.’ She gave a half-smile and held out her hand. ‘We have different rules here. We’re going to have a rest from electronic distractions for once.’

  Hekla glanced at Tinna, who rolled her eyes but held out her phone.

  ‘You too, Hekla.’

  ‘OK.’ Hekla pulled her phone from her pocket.

  Margrét smiled. ‘Don’t look so horrified – you’ll get it back.’

  Hekla watched her disappear into the kitchen, then climbed up the ladder behind Tinna.

  ‘We can’t find Hekla anywhere,’ Bergrún said in a rush when Elma answered the phone. ‘She went to football practice but she didn’t come home afterwards, which is most unlike her. She usually lets us know where she’s going and she always, always comes home for supper. She knows it’s important to me. I’ve been calling her and calling her, but I get her voicemail every time.’

  Elma put down the pizza someone had ordered and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel. Then she left the kitchen and went into her office, pulling the door to. ‘When did you last hear from her?’

  ‘At around three. Before she went to football practice.’

  ‘I see. And have you checked with her friends?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve rung round all of them,’ Bergrún said. ‘Tinna’s not answering either; her phone’s off too. What if something’s happened? I spoke to Tinna’s stepfather, but he didn’t know where she was, and Margrét can’t be reached either, but she’s at work, so…’

  ‘OK, I’ll see what we can do,’ Elma said, checking her watch. It was nearly nine o’clock and they were all on standby at the police station. Forensics were on their way up from Reykjavík and an unmarked police car was parked outside Margrét’s house. The plan was to arrest her as soon as she got back from work.

  ‘I’ve just got the feeling that…’ Elma heard Bergrún heave a deep breath. ‘That something’s happened.’

  ‘There’s no reason to think that,’ Elma said. ‘We’ll find her.’

  She said goodbye to Bergrún, then sat down and thought for a moment before picking up the phone to Kári, who was on guard outside Margrét’s house. ‘Any sign of her yet?’

  ‘Nope, not a thing.’

  ‘Have you seen her daughter?’

  ‘Apart from her husband, no one’s come in or gone out,’ Kári said.

  Elma ended the call. Margrét should have been home by now. Could she have been held up at work or gone out somewhere afterwards?

  After thinking a bit more, she tapped in the number of the TV company. While she was waiting, she was forced to listen to a tinny version of a song that had been popular thirty years ago. Finally, a woman answered, saying that most people had gone home and she should try again in the morning. Elma explained why she was calling and after a bit of insistence on her part, she managed to extract the mobile number of Margrét’s boss. He picked up after the first ring and, unlike the woman Elma had spoken to first, he didn’t waste time asking for a warrant or invoking the privacy law.

  ‘Margrét didn’t turn up to work today,’ he said. ‘We tried to call her but she didn’t answer.’

  Elma thanked him and hung up. Then she grabbed her jacket and practically ran down the corridor to Hörður’s office.

  Tinna and Hekla had last been seen after their football practice, at five o’clock that afternoon. Elma and Sævar parked in front of Margrét’s house and peered up at the windows. There was a light on indoors and Margrét’s husband’s car was in the drive. Was it possible that Margrét had taken the girls somewhere, or had the two of them gone one way and Margrét another? If they were all together, was there any cause for concern?

  Elma tried to tell herself that Margrét wouldn’t hurt the girls. Even if she had murdered Maríanna, that was different; Maríanna had provoked her, accused her of lying. No, the girls probably weren’t in any danger. Or, at least, not Tinna. Elma wasn’t as confident about Hekla. What if Margrét and Tinna had both been responsible for Maríanna’s death? The bus driver had seen them get on his bus together. But Hekla hadn’t been born when the rape took place, so Margrét could hardly blame her for it.

  Elma and Sævar got out of the car and walked up to the house. She listened as he knocked, three heavy raps. When Leifur opened the door, he looked first at them, then at the police car behind them. Elma saw a shadow pass across his face.

  ‘Has something happened?’ he asked in alarm.

  ‘No,’ she answered quickly, realising how it must look to him: a police car and two officers knocking on the door. All that was lacking was a priest. ‘There hasn’t been an accident. We’re just looking for Margrét. We’ve been trying to get hold of her, but she’s not answering her phone and she didn’t turn up to work today.’

  ‘What? That’s news to me. She was supposed to be at the studio. Are you sure she’s not there?’

  ‘She didn’t go in,’ Sævar said.

  ‘Then I haven’t a clue where she is. As far as I knew, she was at work…’

  Elma sighed under her breath. She would have liked to put more pressure on him but suspected it wouldn’t achieve anything. It seemed pretty obvious that Leifur had no idea where his wife was.

  ‘What about Tinna?’ Elma asked.

  ‘Tinna? No, she was at football practice.’

  ‘That finished ages ago.’

  ‘Well, I…’ Leifur ran a hand through his thin hair. ‘Tinna’s often out and about. She’s mainly Margrét’s responsibility. I just … Why do you want to talk to them? What’s all this about?’

  ‘We’ll explain later,’ Sævar said. ‘Right now we need you to come with us.’

  Leifur opened his mouth, then closed it again when he saw men emerging from a car outside. Several of them were already dressed in white overalls.

  ‘What … why…?’ Leifur stood there as if momentarily paralysed. Then he raised his voice. ‘What’s going on here? Who are they?’ He waved a hand towards the men.

  One of them arrived at the front door before they had time to reply. ‘We want everyone out as soon as possible so we can examine the house,’ he said.

  ‘Of course,’ Sævar said. He turned to Leifur. ‘We have a search warrant. You can come down to the station, and we’ll explain there what’s happening. Is there anyone else inside? Where’s your son?’

  ‘No, no one. He’s not at home. But what do you mean … a search warrant? What’s this all about?’

  Sævar sighed and beckoned Leifur to go with him.

  Elma watched the forensic technicians carrying their equipment into the house. Maríanna had lost a lot of blood, which meant that if she had died here, they ought to find traces. She glanced over her shoulder to where Sævar was waiting by the car with Leifur, who made a dejected figure, his face wearing an expression of utter helplessness. His forehead glistened with sweat, despite the cold, and dark, wet patches were visible under his arms. He probably didn’t have a clue what Margrét was guilty of. The priority now was to find the girls as fast as humanly possible.

  ‘Can you think where Margrét might be?’ Elma asked, going over to them. ‘Is there anywhere that springs to mind?’

  Leifur stared at her for a while before answering, as if he was having trouble understanding the question.

  ‘It … no.’ His head swung round as a car entered the street, then swung back to them. ‘Not unl
ess … We’ve got a summer house. But she didn’t say anything about visiting it, so I doubt she’s there. Are you sure she didn’t just have an accident on the way to work? That must be it. She’d never—’

  ‘Where’s the summer house?’ Sævar interrupted.

  ‘Not far from Bifröst. Right by Grábrók.’

  Hekla was woken by the creaking of the floor as Tinna sat up. Feeling too hot, she pushed off the woollen blanket she had spread over herself. They were both on mattresses in the sleeping loft. The only light came from a small lamp under the sloping ceiling. When Hekla looked out of the window, she could see nothing but her own reflection. Downstairs, the wall was illuminated by an orange glow, and she could hear the crackling of a fire.

  Tinna yawned and turned to Hekla. ‘Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Mm,’ Hekla said. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but the moment she lay down on the mattress her eyelids had grown heavy. What time was it? she wondered. It must be past suppertime, because her stomach emitted such a loud rumble that Tinna opened her eyes wide.

  ‘I agree.’ She laughed and called out: ‘Mum!’

  There was a creaking of leather downstairs. ‘Yes, Tinna?’

  ‘We’re dying of hunger.’

  ‘Come down, then.’

  Tinna started climbing down the ladder, and Hekla followed close behind. She didn’t want to be left alone up there, though if it hadn’t been for the hunger pangs she could easily have slept until morning. Her legs were stiff from football practice and she had pins and needles in her arm after sleeping with it under her head.

  Margrét was sitting on the sofa with a blanket over her feet. She pushed her glasses up onto her forehead when they came downstairs and laid down her open book.

  ‘Did you have a nice rest?’ she asked with a smile. Her face and hair gleamed in the glow from the fire. Hekla thought she looked like an actress. She had always felt a little intimidated by Margrét when she went round to see Tinna. There was something about her that made Hekla feel self-conscious. She would find herself worrying about whether her hair was tidy enough or her clothes were crumpled. Hekla didn’t know if it was because she wanted to impress Margrét or if there was something else behind it.