Not for the first time, he felt as if he were immersed in one of Elín’s novels. The last case, a mystery that reached beyond the grave.
He was well on his way to the suburb of Fossvogur, weaving through the traffic, when his phone rang.
‘Helgi?’
‘Aníta, hi. Look, I’m in a hurry. Can we talk later?’
‘No, wait, have you got a minute?’
He slowed down a little, not wanting to risk an accident. The streets were wet and slippery and his car had already skidded when taking a bend.
‘Yes, but only one minute. What’s the matter? Is everything OK?’
‘What, oh, yes, fine, of course. It’s just that I went out to get a sandwich just now and I thought I saw her.’
‘Who?’ he asked, though of course he knew the answer.
‘Bergthóra.’
‘Are you sure, Aníta?’
‘No, the thing is, I’m not quite sure. She was in the car park and I was going in the other direction, and the rain’s so heavy it was hard to see. Maybe I’m just being silly…’
He simply didn’t have time to deal with this now, especially if Aníta had become paranoid and started seeing Bergthóra on every street corner. Not that this was Aníta’s fault. Bergthóra had given her a nasty fright with her unsettling visit – and the incident on the bus – and Aníta clearly hadn’t got over it yet. Whether or not Bergthóra had been in the car park, Helgi made up his mind once and for all: this weekend he was going round to the flat to have it out with her. Make her understand that this behaviour was totally unacceptable. If necessary, he would even consider a restraining order, though that was probably a bit over the top. Besides, he’d never made a formal complaint about the violence she had used against him, or mentioned it to anyone except the psychologist he was no longer seeing.
He and Aníta had to be allowed to get on with their lives in peace, though. Perhaps they should slip away onholiday, go for a long weekend abroad. Somewhere with decent weather.
‘Can we talk it over this evening, Aníta?’ he asked. ‘It must have been somebody else. I can’t believe Bergthóra’s stalking you.’
‘It’s such an uncomfortable feeling, but, OK… And there’s another thing. On Sunday evening—’
‘I’ll cook something nice for us, OK?’ he interrupted, afraid of having an accident if he didn’t concentrate on his driving. ‘But I’m afraid I’ve got to go now.’
‘Yes, please. OK, let’s talk about it later.’ He could almost hear her smiling at the other end.
Helgi drove into the Fossvogur neighbourhood. It was a quiet old suburb, hidden away in a valley of sorts, so the weather there was always a little kinder than elsewhere in Reykjavík, and in a town so close to the Arctic, every little helped. This was somewhere he could imagine living in future if he didn’t move back to Akureyri. He hadn’t quite adapted to Reykjavík. The trouble with the capital was that it just wasn’t Akureyri. The weather was too dreary in summer; he missed the long sunny days up north. And, conversely, there wasn’t enough snow in winter. Helgi wouldn’t dream of celebrating Christmas anywhere other than among the deep, picture-book drifts in Akureyri, where he could nip out to the little bookshop and settle down among the dusty volumes to read the treasures in his collection. There was a lot to be said for a simple life.
He drove up to Lovísa’s house, this time without having called ahead to announce his arrival.
He parked nearby, though not in the drive, and rang the doorbell.
Lovísa wasn’t long in appearing. She greeted him with a smile, her brow wrinkling quizzically, her eyes radiating kindness. Could this woman really be a murderer? Even if it was true, he wasn’t afraid of her. In fact, he found it hard to believe she would hurt a fly.
‘Hello, Helgi, should I have been expecting you? Sometimes I worry that I’ve started forgetting appointments; it’s my age, you know. Come in, but please take off your shoes, if you wouldn’t mind. It’s so wet out there.’
‘No problem. No, you didn’t forget, I just happened to be passing. I have a few questions about Elín, if that’s all right with you?’
‘Of course. I’m on my way to Florida in ten days’ time.’ Her gaze darted to the wet, grey world outside the large sitting-room window. ‘I can’t wait to see the sun.’
‘I’ve never been there myself. I’ll have to remedy that.’ Though he guessed that holidays of the kind Lovísa took would be considerably beyond the budget of a police officer. Lovísa had done well for herself, as Elín had said in the interview: a large family home, an unblemished record at work, a family, no hint of skeletons in her cupboard.
‘No news of Elín,’ she said. At first, Helgi thought it was a question, then he realized it sounded more like a statement.
‘No, we haven’t heard from her,’ he replied. ‘I’m afraid. But we’re not giving up hope. Could you remind me when you last saw her?’
Lovísa seemed a little surprised by his question and didn’t immediately answer.
‘You went for a hike up Mount Esja,’ Helgi prompted, ‘then met for coffee two weeks ago, but—’
