‘No, I wasn’t expecting to be here today either.’
It was clear from her appearance that she had been caught in the rain as well, her hair and coat dripping. ‘What can I do for you?’ Helgi asked. He had never seriously entertained the suspicion that Kristín might bedirectly involved in the case, despite the fact that she had the most to gain from it. By far the most, in fact. The previous day he had finally received all the information from Elín’s bank – after chasing them several times – and discovered that her accounts contained around two million euros, presumably from international royalties, in addition to which she owned her house outright. If Elín did turn out to be dead, Kristín would stand to inherit a substantial fortune.
She didn’t immediately respond to Helgi’s question.
The only thing breaking the silence in the hot, muggy room was the roar of the wind and rain outside. Helgi got up and pulled back the curtains to admit some light. He remained there for a moment or two, staring out at the drab, grey view. The miserable weather, the traffic lights, the cars, the blocks of concrete – there was nothing out there to gladden the eye. He felt an overpowering longing to go home and crawl back into bed with his book.
‘There’s something we need to discuss,’ Kristín said at last, her voice sounding stronger than before.
Helgi put aside his speculation that she might be responsible somehow for Elín’s disappearance. It seemed too far-fetched.
Kristín was silent again for a moment, then took a deep breath.
‘I met Elín once, as I told you.’
‘Right. Through work.’
She nodded.
‘A radio interview?’
‘No, actually. This was in 2005, before I started working for the radio. After Elín had given up writing.’
‘Seven years ago, in other words?’
‘Yes. I’d been working as a journalist for several years, for various different papers, though mostly atDV. Then one day Elín rang me out of the blue, saying she’d read one of my feature interviews and had been very taken with my style and approach, or something like that. Anyway, she flattered me, and no writer minds receiving praise from a renowned stylist like Elín S. Jónsdóttir, I can tell you.’ There was a brief hint of a smile.
‘I believe you,’ Helgi remarked.
‘She said she didn’t give many interviews, in fact she’d given up the bad habit, as she put it, after her last book had come out. But she would be prepared to talk to me at some point if it would suit me. I also remember her asking whether I had any say over where and when an interview would appear. At first, I thought maybe she didn’t want it to be inDV, but in some glossy magazine perhaps. But that wasn’t the reason at all, as it later transpired.’
When he entered the room, Helgi hadn’t for a minute expected to hear a story like this from Kristín. Plainly, she was planning to spin it out and keep him in suspense for as long as possible, just like Elín manipulating the readers of her novels.
‘I assume you accepted her request,’ he prompted.
‘Yes, you bet I did. I wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity like that. I had visions of trying to sell the interview to the highest bidder, though I was still employed byDVat the time. At any rate, I didn’t intendto tell my editors about it immediately but to play it by ear. Besides, I didn’t know when Elín would make herself available for our chat or whether she was even serious.’
‘And was she serious?’
‘Yes. She wanted to arrange a time straight away. We met up two weeks later. I suspected she wanted to give me a chance to read her books because I hadn’t read all of them. And I made good use of those two weeks, managing to get through the entire series as well as some old interviews with her. You could say I became an instant expert on Elín S. Jónsdóttir. Then we had our meeting.’
Kristín broke off to take a sip of the coffee that someone had clearly offered her while she was waiting.
‘Our conversation took place at her house. Have you been there?’
‘Yes. It’s a beautiful place.’
‘It certainly is. A real writer’s house was the impression I got.’
‘Which, it seems, could one day be yours.’
Helgi instantly regretted his remark. Kristín stopped short, as if it simply hadn’t occurred to her that the house would be hers along with most of the other assets – if Elín did turn out to be dead.
‘We sat in her study.’ Kristín’s voice had acquired a different rhythm now. ‘I remember it so well. The walls were lined with books and the computer wasn’t even on her desk. She handwrote all her novels, you know.’
Helgi nodded.
‘We spent a long time together. I took along a cassetterecorder that I used to use for interviews, all very old school. Elín set a condition at the beginning that we weren’t to discuss her private life. Of course, that was a bit disappointing, but it wasn’t a deal-breaker. I found it fascinating enough just to be allowed to sit with her and take an exclusive interview. It started well, though I can remember being rather nervous; I felt like I was taking an exam and had to be at the top of my game. Elín was very nice and reacted well to all my questions – except when I accidentally strayed into areas that she considered too personal. Apart from that, she was very open from the outset, and I had begun to visualize making a splash with a brilliant feature interview. It tickled my vanity, as I’m sure you’ll understand. I’d never had a proper exclusive as a journalist, but I was hoping this would be my big break.’
