unbearable.
As she put the final pile neatly to one side Thora turned to Matthew and asked: 'Did Harald make a willconsidering all the assets he owned?'
'Actually he did leave a willquite a recent one in fact,' said Matthew. 'He'd always had one, but changed it in the middle of September. He made a trip to Germany specifically to meet the Guntliebs' lawyer to draw up a new version. But no one knows what it says.'
'Really?' Thora said, surprised. 'Why not?'
'It was in two partswith instructions to open one before the other. It stated that the second part must not be opened until Harald had been buriedwhich hasn't been possible because of the investigation.'
'Was that all it said?' Thora asked.
'No, there were also instructions about where he wanted to be buried.'
'And where is that?'
'In Icelandwhich is strange considering the short time he spent here. The country seems to have captivated him. Another instruction was that his parents have to attend the funeral and stand at the foot of the grave for at least ten minutes after the casket is lowered. If they fail to comply, all his possessions will be bequeathed to a tattoo parlor in Munich.'
Thora asked him to repeat that. 'So didn't he expect them to turn up?'
'Evidently not,' replied Matthew. 'But he made absolutely certain of it with that clausehis parents don't care to be splattered across the tabloids because their son left a small fortune to a tattoo parlor.'
'Do you think they'll inherit it, then?' Thora asked. 'That is, if they turn up.'
'No,' Matthew replied. 'They couldn't really care lessthey just don't want to end up in the gutter press.'
He thought for a moment.
'I think his sister Elisa will probably inherit most of his belongings. But a good share of the money will doubtless go to someone here in Icelandthe lawyer implied that strongly when he was pressed. The second part of the will must be opened here, according to Harald's instructions.'
'I wonder who it is,' Thora said, curious.
'I don't have a clue,' responded Matthew. 'But he or she had ample reason to kill Harald, if they knew about it beforehand.'
Thora was relieved to leave the apartment. She was tired and wanted to go home to her children. Yet she felt somehow uncomfortable. She had the feeling she had overlooked something. But no matter how she tried to recall it after she was alone in her 'Bibbi's Garage' car, she could not put her finger on what was eluding her. And when she parked in her drive she forgot it completely.
CHAPTER 12
The effects of divorce are not all positive. Thora had long been aware that it had its drawbacks too. Previously, two people were running the household, but now Thora had to stretch a single salary to fill the gap left after the split. The meager amount she received in child support from her husband did little to alleviate her financial problems. It's an easy enough thing to step up one's spending and be comfortable with it; at least Thora did not recall any particular difficulties in converting from a poor student to a salary-earner. But it's a different matter when it comes to cutting back, as she had found out.
Hannes, her ex, was an ER surgeonin other words, he was in a stable and well-paid job. After their divorce Thora had had to relinquish many things she had begun to take for granted. It was no longer a matter of course to go out for a meal, take a weekend break abroad, buy expensive clothes, or do any of the other typical things people who don't need to worry about money do. Although not all the disadvantages involved money
'Doesn't it make a world of difference?' she asked her daughter, who was sitting in the kitchen absorbed in drawing pictures.
Soley looked up. 'What does?'
'The floors,' Thora answered. 'I've vacuumed. Don't they look nice?'
The girl looked at the floor and then back at her mother. 'You missed this.' She pointed with a green crayon at a ball of fluff under one leg of the chair she was sitting on.
'Oh, sorry, madame,' said Thora, kissing her daughter on the head. 'What's that nice picture you're drawing?'
'It's you and me and Gylfi,' Soley replied, pointing to three figures of different sizes on the paper. 'You're wearing a pretty dress and so am I and Gylfi's wearing shorts.' She looked at her mother. 'It's summer in this picture.'
'Wow, don't I look smart,' Thora said. 'I'll definitely get myself a dress like that next summer.' She looked at her watch. 'Come along. I'll brush your teeth. It's bedtime.'
While Soley put away her crayons, Thora went to her son's room. She gave a light rap on the door before opening it. 'Isn't this just as good as new?' she asked, again referring to the floors.
Gylfi did not answer immediately. He was lying on the bed talking on his mobile. Seeing her, he said a quick good-bye and in a half whisper promised whoever he was talking to that he would ring later. He half sat up and put down his phone. Thora thought he looked dazed. 'Are you okay? You look so pale.'
'What?' Gylfi said. 'Sure, everything's okay. Great, really.'
'That's nice,' she said. 'I just came to see if you didn't think the air is fresher since I vacuumed your room. And if I wouldn't get a kiss as a reward.'
Gylfi sat up properly. He looked around vacantly. 'Eh? Oh, yeah. Cool.'
Thora studied her son closely. Something definitely wasn't right. His normal reaction would have been to shrug or mumble something about not caring what the floors looked like. He darted his eyes and avoided looking at his mother. There was something wrong, and a pang shot through Thora's stomach. She hadn't been looking after him properly. He had changed from a little boy into a half man since the divorce, and she had been too preoccupied with herself and her own problems to pay enough attention to him. Now she did not know how to act. Most of all she wanted to hug him and run her fingers through his unnecessarily long hair, but that would just look sillythat time had passed, it was long gone. 'Hey,' she said, putting her hand on his shoulder. She had to crane her neck to look him in the face, because he was looking away. 'Something's wrong. You can tell me. I promise not to get angry.'
Gylfi gave her a thoughtful look but said nothing. Thora saw tiny beads of sweat on his forehead and for a moment she thought he might have the flu. 'Are you running a temperature?' she asked, stretching out her hand to press the back of it against his brow.
Gylfi dodged her deftly. 'No, no. Not at all. I've just heard some bad news.'
'Oh?' Thora said cautiously. 'Who was on the phone?'
'SiggaI mean Siggi,' Gylfi answered without looking his mother in the eye. He added hastily: 'Arsenal lost to Liverpool.'
Thora was not born yesterday and was perfectly aware that he had just cooked up this excuse on the spot. She did not recognize the name Siggi from Gylfi's circlealthough of course he had countless acquaintances whose names and faces she did not know. But she did know her son well enough to realize that he was not so into soccer that he'd get depressed over the English league results. She wondered whether to press him further or let it go. Given the situation she judged the latter option more appropriatefor the time being. 'Oh, dear. Rotten. Bloody Liverpool.' She looked him straight in the eye. 'If you want or need to talk to me, Gylfi, then promise me you won't hesitate to do just that.' Seeing his flustered expression, she swiftly added: 'About the game, I mean. Arsenal. You know you can come to me, dear. I can't solve all the problems in the world but I can try to tackle the ones that
