the off-limits zone that was being guarded by the district officer.
Asmundur retold this story countless times as he served the customers, who bought all kinds of unnecessary goods during the course of the day.
Question twenty-four: The wooden man. Third letter. Earl Hakon invoked his guardian spirits, Thorgerd Altar-bride and her sister Irpa, to perform whatever sorcery was required in Iceland to kill Thorleifur. Hakon ordered the figure of a man to be made out of driftwood. Then a man was killed, and his heart was cut out to be placed inside the wooden figure. He was then dressed and given the name of Thorgard. They endowed it with such devilish powers that it could walk and talk with men. He was dispatched on a ship to Iceland and arrived when people were assembling at the Althing. One day Thorleifur stepped out of his booth and saw a man crossing the Oxara river from the west. Thorleifur asked the man for his name. He answered that his name was Thorgard, and at the same moment he thrust the halberd at him and through his middle. As Thorleifur was hit, he struck back at Thorgard, who vanished into the earth so that only the soles of his feet could be seen. Thorleifur wrapped his tunic around himself and walked back to his booth. He told people what had happened, and when he threw off his tunic, his guts spilled out. He died there with a good reputation. The answer is “Thorgard,” and the third letter is o.
CHAPTER 41
It was still raining at eleven when two detectives arrived in Flatey. They had left Reykjavik by car, shortly after Johanna had phoned the criminal investigation department in the capital and requested assistance on Grimur’s behalf. A coast guard ship that happened to be a short distance away in the West Fjords sailed to Stykkisholmur to meet them and then take them to Flatey. The ship was now moored to the new pier and looked gray, wet, and bleak in the evening twilight.
Grimur received the investigators on the pier, and the only other people there apart from him were Thormodur Krakur, holding his handcart and dressed in his black suit, and the three generations of men from Ystakot. Valdi had seen the ship approach from the south and went down to grab the ropes as usual. Kjartan, on the other hand, had asked to be relieved of any further participation in the investigation after the discovery in the churchyard, and said he was ill and had gone to bed.
The chief investigating officer greeted Grimur first. “I’m Thorolfur,” he said, before introducing his partner: “Lukas from forensics. He’ll be examining the scene and assisting me in the interrogations.”
Thorolfur was a vigorous and slim man in his early sixties. His white hair had started to thin slightly and was combed back. His weather-beaten and clean-shaven face was wrinkled, as if it had been exposed to too much sun. Lukas, on the other hand, was younger, probably in his thirties, short, and chubby, with thick lips and rugged skin that stretched over a broad face crowned with light brown hair.
Two men were on the deck of the coast guard ship, preparing it for the night at the pier. Figures could be glimpsed through the illuminated windows of the bridge.
The policemen were suitably dressed for walking in the rain, wearing good raincoats and rubber boots. They carried two heavy bags with them and an oblong box, similar to the casket they had used to transport Professor Lund to Reykjavik. The older policeman gratefully accepted Thormodur Krakur’s offer to carry their luggage in his cart.
They set off, Thormodur Krakur at the front with the cart and the others behind him. Grimur recounted the events of the past few days to the policemen and the little he knew of Bryngeir’s movements over the past twenty- four hours. Thorolfur asked how many people were on the island, including both locals and guests.
“There were fifty-two people here this morning,” Grimur answered after some thought.
“How many of them would’ve had the physical strength to do something like this?” the policeman asked.
“Well, that I couldn’t say. Most of the adult men and probably some of the sturdier women.”
“We’ll question everyone from confirmation age up to their eighties tomorrow. How many would that be?”
Grimur silently counted. “That’s probably twenty-two men and fifteen women. There are two old men in their nineties, and the rest of them are kids below confirmation age.”
The policeman was silent and pondered. “This shouldn’t be difficult to solve,” he finally said. “The elimination process should narrow the group down quite rapidly. I just hope that the perpetrator doesn’t panic and do something stupid.”
The sun was still in the air somewhere behind the dark clouds of rain, but was nevertheless beginning to fade. They walked past the doctor’s house, where there was a light on in the window. Grimur didn’t lead them up the shortcut to the churchyard, but instead he took the road that was more manageable for the handcart. Finally they reached the church, which was open. Hogni stood in the hallway, wearing his sailor’s overalls and sea hat, watching the approach of the men. He greeted them with a wave.
The inspectors took their luggage off the cart and carried it into the church. They then thanked Thormodur Krakur for his help and told him he could leave, but that it would be good if they could hold on to the cart. Thormodur Krakur dithered until Grimur said, “Just go to bed, Krakur. I’ll take care of your cart.”
Thormodur Krakur tilted on his toes. “Very well, District Administrative Officer. I’ll be off then, even though I never like to be the first to desert the battlefield.”
Grimur turned to Hogni. “You can go, too, Hogni. You’ve done your shift now. Drop off by my place and get my Imba to make you a cup of coffee. No one wants to be alone tonight.”
Hogni was visibly relieved. He took Thormodur Krakur by the arm.
“Come on, pal. Your good clothes are drenched.”
They walked down the slope from the church, without looking back.
Lukas grabbed two large flashlights before the inspectors ventured into the churchyard. Grimur followed them, since he needed to show them the way. The body was clearly visible from the side of the churchyard because there was still some daylight, even though the rainy clouds had darkened the sky. It was close to the summer solstice, and the night would be very short.
Lukas walked with a stooped back, pointing his beaming flashlight at his feet and the grassy path, while Thorolfur followed behind.
“There’s no trail of blood,” said Lukas. “And no discernible footprints either.”
When they reached the grave the body lay on, the policemen stopped.
“Someone has been walking around here,” said Lukas, pointing at the crushed grass around the grave.
“Yes, I walked there this morning and then the doctor,” said Grimur.
“I’ll examine the whole churchyard more closely,” Lukas said to Thorolfur, “but if we don’t find any trace of blood, then the man was most likely killed on this spot.”
He drew closer to the body and scrutinized its back.
“The man must have been barely conscious when he was carved up. There are no signs of resistance. He seems to have been placed in this position, his clothes were pulled over the top part of his body, and then his back was slashed to pieces.”
He examined the hands, feet, and finally the head. “There are no signs of him having been tied up and no visible injuries on the head. He is unlikely to have been unconscious from a blow to the head.”
“What about alcohol?” Grimur asked “He was drunk when he arrived on the island, and as far as I know he never sobered up.”
“That’s something the autopsy will reveal,” Thorolfur answered. “We’ll finish our examination of the scene, and then we’ll send the body off with the ship. They’ll take it to Stykkisholmur tonight, and there’s a van ready to take it straight to Reykjavik. We should get a preliminary report back within twenty-four hours.”
Lukas fetched a camera with a big flash. He took several pictures of the body, changing bulbs after each shot. Grimur was blinded by the light when he made the mistake of looking into the flash, and the whole cemetery seemed to completely darken between shots.
“It’s hard to believe the summer solstice is coming soon,” he said, looking up at the overcast sky.
When Lukas had finished taking the pictures, Thorolfur bent over the body and loosened the coat around the waist. Holding the tip of the coat up in the air with the index of his left hand, he searched through the pockets with
