from time to time, though. Mother, woman, maiden: the line from the old poem ran through her mind before she realized that the word 'woman' hardly suited her. She had not made a single male acquaintance in the two years since her divorce. Suddenly she was seized by a great yearning to make love to a man. She gave herself a gentle shake; it was difficult to imagine a less appropriate place to think about sex. What was wrong with her?
'Soley!' the supervisor called out, noticing Thora. 'Your mother's here.'
The little girl, sitting with her back to her mother, looked up from the beads she was putting together. She gave a tired smile and swept a blond lock out of her eyes. 'Hi, Mum. Look, I've made a heart out of beads.' Thora felt a pang in her own heart and promised herself that she would pick her daughter up earlier tomorrow.
After a quick stop at the supermarket Thora and Soley finally reached home. Gylfi, her son, was already there. His sneakers had been tossed carelessly in the middle of the hallway, and his coat had been hung up on a peg beside the door so hurriedly that it had slid to the floor.
'Gylfi!' yelled Thora, bending down to put the shoes on the rack and hang the coat up securely. 'How often do I have to tell you to take your shoes and coat off in an orderly fashion?'
'Can't hear you,' a voice called from inside the house.
Thora rolled her eyes. He could not be expected to hear; the sounds from a computer game were overwhelming. 'Turn it down, then!' she yelled back. 'You'll make yourself deaf!'
'Come here! I can't hear you!' came the shouted reply.
'Oh, God,' Thora muttered as she hung up her coat. Her daughter neatly arranged her own shoes and coat and Thora was dumbfounded for the hundredth time at how different her children were. Her daughter was a model of tidiness, hardly even dribbled as a baby, while her son would have preferred to live in a heap of clothes where he could throw himself down contentedly at night. But they did have one thing in common: they were both extraordinarily focused when it came to school and homework. Somehow it suited Soley's character, but Thora always found it rather funny when Gylfi, with his long, unkempt hair and clothes with skeletons on them, turned almost hysterical about something like leaving his spelling exercise at school.
Thora stepped into the doorway of her son's room. Gylfi was sitting glued to the screen of his computer, clicking furiously with the mouse. 'For God's sake turn that down, Gylfi,' she said, having to raise her voice even though she was standing right beside her son. 'I can't hear myself think.'
Without even glancing away from the screen or slowing down his clicking of the mouse, her son stretched out his left hand for a knob on the loudspeakers and turned them down. 'Better?' he said, still without looking up.
'Yes, that's better,' replied Thora. 'Now switch this off and come and have dinner. I bought some pasta; it only takes a minute to fix.'
'Just let me finish this level,' the answer came. 'Takes two minutes.'
'Just two,' she said, and turned round. 'Let me remind you that it goes like this: one. Then two. Not one, two, three, four, five, six, two.'
'Okay, okay,' her son replied irritably, carrying on with his game.
When the food was served fifteen minutes later Gylfi appeared and slammed himself down in his usual chair. Soley was already seated and yawning in front of her plate. Thora could not be bothered to start the meal by nagging Gylfi for taking more than two minutes to finish 'the level.' She was about to remind him of the importance of this occasion for the family when her mobile started ringing. She stood up to answer it. 'You two start eating, and don't argue. You're both much more likable when you're friends.' She reached out for the mobile on the kitchen sideboard and looked at the caller ID, but there was none. She pressed the talk button as she left the kitchen. 'Thora.'
'Guten Abend, Frau Gudmundsdottir,' said Matthew's dry voice. He asked if it was an inconvenient time.
'No, it's okay,' Thora lied. She thought Matthew would be upset if he knew the truth, namely that she was sitting down to dinner. He seemed a polite man, somehow.
'Have you had time to look at the documents I gave you?' he asked.
'Yes, I have, but not in any great detail,' Thora replied. 'Actually, I did notice that the police investigation documents were incomplete. I suggest a formal request to obtain them. It's a terrible drawback having only part of them.'
'Definitely.' An uncomfortable silence ensued. Just as Thora was about to add something, Matthew began speaking again.
'So you've made your mind up?'
'About the case, you mean?'
'Yes,' he said curtly. 'Are you going to take it on?'
Thora hesitated for a moment before agreeing. She had a feeling that when she said those words, Matthew heaved a deep sigh of relief. 'Sehr gut,' he said in an exceptionally perky tone.
'Actually, I still have to study the contract. I brought it home to read tonight. If it's true that it's 'fair and normal,' I can't see any objections to signing it tomorrow.'
'Great.'
'Listen, one thing made me curious: why wasn't the section about the autopsy in the folder?' Although Thora knew this could wait until morning, she wanted to know the answer now.
'We had to make a special application to obtain the documents and I didn't get them alljust a summary of the main points. I thought it was rather sparse, so I've insisted on seeing the entire report,' Matthew replied.
After a moment's pause he added by way of explanation: 'It complicated the matter a little, me being a representative and not a relative, but fortunately it's been settled now. In fact, that's why I rang now instead of waiting to hear from you tomorrow as we had discussed.'
'Sorry?' Thora said, not quite grasping the context.
'I have an appointment at nine tomorrow morning with the pathologist who performed the autopsy on Harald. He's going to present me with the documents and go through various aspects of them with me. I'd like you to come along.'
'Well,' Thora said in surprise. 'Okay, that's fine. I'm game.'
'Good, I'll pick you up from the office at half past eight.'
Thora bit her tongue to stop herself saying that she generally did not turn up that early. 'Half past eight. I'll see you then.'
'Frau Gudmundsdottir' said Matthew.
'Do call me Thora, it's much simpler,' Thora interrupted him. She felt like a ninety-year-old widow every time he called her Frau Gudmundsdottir.
'Okay, Thora,' Matthew said. 'Just one more thing.'
'What?' asked Thora.
'I'd resist having a heavy breakfast. It's not going to be a pleasant conversation.'
CHAPTER 6
Finding a parking space at the national hospital was definitely not the easiest task in the world. Matthew eventually found one some distance from the building where the pathology lab was located. Thora had turned up at her office early and drafted a letter to the police, demanding access to the documents as the representative of the family. The letter was in its envelope and waiting in Bella's tray; hopefully it would be posted today, but Thora still decided to up the odds by labeling the envelope with the words: 'Must
Thora had also called the aviation school to inquire about a debit from Harald's card in September. She was told that Harald had hired a small private plane and pilot to fly up to Holmavik and back the same day. After checking Holmavik on the Internet, Thora soon realized what had attracted Harald thereits museum of witchcraft and sorcery. She had also telephoned Hotel Ranga to investigate Harald's trips there, and she was told that he had booked and paid for two rooms for two nightsthe names in the guest book were Harald Guntlieb and Harry Potter. As a pseudonym, the latter displayed a singular lack of imagination. She told Matthew about this and Harald's trip
