‘How odd.’
‘At other times I think she might have masterminded her own disappearance.’
When he’d first heard that Elín was missing, he’d been immediately reminded of Agatha Christie, who vanished without trace in 1926, just as she had become successful. She had later turned up at an English country hotel in Harrogate, under an assumed name. Christie had only been thirty-six at the time, while Elín was almost twice that age. Christie had recently learnt that her husband was intending to leave her, whereas, at least on the surface, nothing of note seemed to have happened in Elín’s life recently. She simply led a quiet existence as a retired bestselling author. Then, all of a sudden, nobody knew where she was.
‘It sounds like the sort of thing an artist would contrive, staging a disappearance like that,’ Aníta said. ‘Then maybe publishing a new book in the autumn?’
‘She hadn’t… hasn’t… written anything for many years. There’s no book in the pipeline.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ Aníta asked teasingly. With her, smiles and light-heartedness never seemed far from the surface. She was the complete opposite of Bergthóra in that respect.
‘Quite sure. I’ve spoken to her publisher. She wouldn’t lie to me, not in a situation like this.’
Aníta shrugged.
‘Agatha Christie vanished, only to reappear again,’ Helgi remarked. ‘She was a promising young writer at the time. She’d just published the book that made her into a star.’
‘What happened?’
‘She turned up,’ Helgi said.
‘Where?’
‘At a hotel, under an assumed name. She never referred to it in her autobiography. There are no explanations, though there have been any number of theories. I think it’s safe to say that it was one of the most famous mysteries of the twentieth century.’
‘I think it sounds rather fun, being able to disappear, then pop up again.’
‘You could put it like that.’
‘What about Elín?’ Aníta asked.
Helgi was pleased that she seemed genuinely interested. Of course, he had to be circumspect when discussingongoing investigations, but he trusted Aníta. He supposed he’d trusted Bergthóra too, to begin with, but she’d never been interested enough to ask him about the work he was engaged in, whether it was his studies or his job.
‘I have to say, I think it’s unlikely she’ll turn up at a hotel,’ Helgi said. ‘No, I think there’s more to it. Maybe she intended to disappear for good and never come back.’
‘That can’t be ruled out.’
‘No, you’re right about that.’
‘This could be a good assignment for you, couldn’t it?’ Aníta asked diffidently.
‘A good assignment?’
‘Prominent, I mean. A big case.’
Of course this had occurred to him, but when it came to the point he found it distasteful to dwell on that aspect.
‘It’ll certainly cause a stir – hopefully not straight away, but soon enough. It would be great to have a few days to look into things in peace first, though. As I mentioned, I spoke to her publisher earlier…’ He paused. ‘She didn’t know anything, or…’
‘Or claimed she didn’t,’ Aníta finished.
‘Exactly. Forensics have examined Elín’s house from top to bottom. I’m going over there tomorrow. There are no clues, apart from the fact that she doesn’t seem to have been at home for several days. It’s all very strange.’
‘Was she strong? Healthy, I mean?’
‘Yes, I got in touch with her doctor. She was fighting fit. I’m going to talk to her best friend as well tomorrow. Her name’s Lovísa. She’s a judge.’
‘Women tell their best friends everything,’ Aníta saidwith a mischievous grin. Helgi tried not to wonder what she said about him to her female friends. ‘You should have spoken to Lovísa before anyone else. Maybe I’d be better at this job than you.’
