Last Rituals

'No, not according to his parents, and I believe them. They were out of their minds after it arrived and in no state to lie convincingly.'

'Why is it signed 'Harry'? Was the person who wrote it running out of blood?'

'No, his elder brother called him 'Harry' when they were small. Only a handful of people know that nicknamewhich is one reason why the letter had such an effect on his mother.'

Thora looked at Matthew. 'Did she treat him badly? Is that true?' She thought back to that photograph of the lonely little boy.

Matthew did not answer immediately. When he finally spoke he chose his words carefully; it was evidently important to him to express himself properly about the private affairs of employers whom he seemed to respect highly. 'I swear that I don't know. It was more as if she avoided him. But I do know that if their relationship had been normal, she would have sent the letter to the Icelandic police. It clearly struck a nerve.' He paused for a moment, watching Thora thoughtfully before continuing. 'She asked to talk to you. Mother-to-mother.'

'Me?' Thora gaped. 'What does she want from me? To apologize for her bizarre behavior toward her child?'

'She didn't say,' Matthew replied. 'She just said she wanted to talk to you, but not right now. She wanted time to get over the shock.'

Thora said nothing. Of course she would talk to the woman if she insisted, but it would be a long time before she would console someone who had mistreated her child. 'I can't see the motive behind that letter,' she said, to change the subject.

'Nor can I,' replied Matthew at once. 'There's something so crazy about pretending Harald sent it himself that I think the murderer must be a psychopath.'

Thora stared at the sheet of paper. 'Could the person who wrote it be implying that Harald was dead and would come back to haunt his mother?'

'Why?' asked Matthew reasonably. 'Who could expect to benefit from tormenting her like that?'

'Harald, of course, except that he was dead,' Thora said. 'His sister perhapsmaybe their mother mistreated her too?'

'No,' Matthew replied. 'She wasn't mistreatedI can promise you that. She's the apple of her parents' eye.'

'So who can it be?' Thora asked, floundering.

'Not Hugi anyway. Unless he had an accomplice.'

'Pity we didn't know about the blood on his clothes when we spoke to him this morning.' Thora looked at her watch. 'Maybe they'll let me talk to him on the phone.' She dialed directory assistance and got the number of the prison. The duty sergeant gave her permission to talk to Hugi on condition that they kept the conversation short. She held impatiently for several minutes listening to a digital rendition of Fur Elise. Finally, a breathless Hugi came on the line.

'Hello.'

'Yes, hello, Hugi. This is Thora Gudmundsdottir who came to see you this morning. I won't keep you long but unfortunately we forgot to ask you about the blood on your clothes. How do you explain that?'

'That fucking shit.' Hugi groaned. 'The police asked me about it. I don't know what bloodstained T-shirt they mean, but I explained the blood on my clothes from the night before.'

'How?' Thora asked.

'Harald and I went to the toilet to snort up during the party. He got this huge nosebleed and some of it splashed me. The bathroom was tiny.'

'Couldn't you get that corroborated?' Thora asked. 'Didn't any of the other guests remember you coming out of the bathroom covered in blood?'

'I wasn't exactly covered in blood. They were all off their heads too. No one mentioned it. No one noticed, I guess.'

Damn, thought Thora. 'But the bloodstained T-shirt in your closetdo you know how it got there?'

'I haven't the foggiest.' A short silence followed before he added: 'I think the cops planted it. I didn't kill Harald and didn't mop up any blood with a T-shirt. I don't even know if it's my T-shirt or someone else's. They never let me see it.'

'Those are serious accusations, Hugi, and to tell you the truth I don't think the police do that sort of thing. There must be another explanation, if you're telling the truth.' They ended the call, and Thora filled Matthew in.

'Well, he has an explanation for half of it,' he said. 'We have to find out from the other guests at the party if they remember any nosebleeds.'

'Yes,' Thora said, hardly expecting it to be worth the hassle. 'But even if they do, the T-shirt in the closet still needs to be explained.'

A ping came from the computer, and they both looked at the screen. 'You have new mail' appeared on a tab in the right-hand corner. Thora grabbed the mouse and clicked the envelope icon.

It was an e-mailfrom Mal.

CHAPTER 19

Hey, dead Harald.

What's up, man? I'm getting mail from someone pretending to be the Icelandic police and some scumbag lawyer [Thora could not help being riled by thisdespite having been called much worse in her legal career]. Those jerks reckon you're deadas if, eh? Drop me a line, anywayit's all a bit weird.

Bye

Mal

'Quick, quick,' Matthew said. 'Answer while he's still at his computer.'

Thora rushed to click 'Reply.' 'What should I say?' she asked as she typed in the customary: 'Dear Mal.'

'Just anything,' Matthew snapped. Very helpful.

Thora decided to write:

Unfortunately it is true about Harald's death. He was murdered and won't be replying. I'm the 'scumbag lawyer' who tried to contact you the other day; Harald's computer is in my safekeeping. I'm working for the Guntliebsthey are desperate to find the killer. A young man is in custody who is probably innocent of this awful deed and I suspect you may have information that could help us. Do you know what it was that Harald claimed to have found and who the 'fucking idiot' is he refers to in his last e-mail to you? Please send me a phone number where I can contact you.

Regards

Thora

Matthew read as she typed and as soon as she had finishedin record timehe gestured impatiently and muttered: 'Send it, send it.'

Thora sent the message and they waited in silence for a few minutes. At long last a pop-up announced a new message. Excitedly they looked at each other before Thora opened it. And they were both equally disappointed.

Scumbag lawyerfuck off. Take the Guntliebs with you. You all suck. I'd rather die than help you.

All my hate

Mal

Thora slowly breathed out. No mixed messages there. She looked at Matthew. 'Could he be joking?'

Matthew caught her eye but could not tell whether she was joking too. He presumed she was. 'SureI bet he'll send another mail with smileys bouncing all over the screen saying how much he loves the Guntliebs.' He groaned. 'Screw it. Harald obviously didn't speak highly of his parents to his friends. I think we can forget this guy.'