‘Yes, as I told you the other day. I haven’t forgotten; there’s nothing wrong with my memory in that respect. We did a day trip to Esja on Saturday, 20 October, as I said, but you already have that information, Helgi. Then we met for coffee a couple of days later, which would have been, let me see, 23 October.’
‘At Kaffivagninn, am I right?’
‘Yes, as always.’
‘Then a week later, she didn’t show up.’
‘That’s right.’ Lovísa seemed suddenly on her guard. She had been friendlier when he first arrived.
Just then, Helgi had an idea and decided to test it, even though it would require telling a lie. But he reassured himself that the end justified the means.
‘As it happens, I spoke to the girl who was working at Kaffivagninn on 23 October and she doesn’t remember seeing the two of you. Yet it was a quiet day and of course she would have recognized Elín, as she’s so well known.’
Helgi was rather pleased with this lie. He had a hunch that he had hit on the truth. That it had gone something like this: Lovísa had murdered her friend on the mountain, then pretended they’d met for coffee as usual three days later. It wasn’t until Thor drew attention to Elín’s absence that Lovísa had been forced to admit that Elín hadn’t turned up the following Tuesday…
‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at,’ Lovísa said after a long pause. ‘You’re saying she didn’t see us?’
‘Were you really there, Lovísa? You know, I think Elín’s been missing for longer than we’ve been told.’
Lovísa was silent.
‘There’s something else we need to talk about too.’
She kept her gaze fixed on him.
‘I had a meeting earlier with a woman who took an interview with Elín some years ago.’
The blood drained from Lovísa’s face.
It was as if she had been robbed of all her strength.
Helgi had never seen words have such an immediate effect.
‘I see.’ Lovísa got to her feet with some difficulty. ‘Sorry, I forgot to offer you coffee, Helgi. I can be so absent-minded. Would you like a cup?’
‘Black, please.’ Despite the warmth in the room, he was shivering in his damp clothes.
He stayed where he was while Lovísa vanished into the kitchen, and surveyed the paintings by her late husband that graced the walls. A talented artist, no doubt about it. Perhaps a little on the modern side for a house of this sort; the canvases didn’t quite go with the period furnishings.
Judging by her reaction, Lovísa must know what was coming.
‘Here you are, Helgi. Good and hot. This is wretched weather we’re having.’
He took a sip. The coffee was unusually strong but not at all bitter, yet even so it couldn’t quite drive out the chill.
‘Were you aware of this interview?’ he asked, returning to sober reality.
There was a lengthy pause before Lovísa answered.
‘Yes, I’d heard about it. I don’t suppose there’s much point in denying that now.’ She looked a little dazedly at her surroundings, perhaps feeling as if her world was collapsing around her.
‘Did Elín tell you about it?’ Helgi prompted.
Lovísa nodded.
‘I’ve listened to it. She talks about you.’
‘Yes, I see…’ Lovísa murmured.
