so far to establish where the money went. It was a lot more than Harald would have needed to buy drugs. Even if he had planned on staying stoned for years.'
'Couldn't he have been investing in drugs?' asked Thora, adding: 'Financing smuggling or something like that?'
Matthew snorted. 'Out of the question. Harald didn't need the money. He was independently wealthy. He inherited a fortune from his grandfather.'
'I understand.' Thora did not want to press him on this point, but wondered whether there may have been another reason for him to get involved in drug smuggling; maybe for kicks, or just sheer stupidity.
'There's no evidence that the dealer took the money. The only link the police have found between Harald and the drug scene is that he bought dope every now and then.'
The food arrived and they ate in silence. Thora felt a little awkward. This man was clearly not the type with whom silence was comfortable. However, she had never been good at making idle chatter even if the silence was oppressive, so she decided to restrain herself.
They ordered coffee and two hot cups soon arrived with a sugar bowl and silver milk jug.
'This is a very strange country, is it not?' said Matthew suddenly, his eyes following the retreating waiter.
'Well, no. Not really,' replied Thora, suppressing the instinct to jump to the defense of her beloved homeland. 'It's just small. There are only three hundred thousand people living here. Why do you find it strange?'
Matthew shrugged. 'Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's the cleanliness of the city, or the feeling of being surrounded by dolls' houses, but I think it has more to do with the people. Most locals I have spoken to seem to live by a different logic from the one I'm used to. They answer questions with questions, for example. Maybe it's just a language thing.' He went quiet and shifted his gaze to a woman hurrying across the square outside. Thora sipped her coffee, then broke the silence: 'Did you bring a contract for me to look at?'
The man reached for the briefcase that lay beside his chair and took out a thin folder. He handed it across the table to Thora. 'Take the contract with you. Tomorrow we can go over what you want to change and I'll inform the Guntliebs. It's a fair deal and I doubt you'll find much fault with it.' He bent down again, fetched a thicker folder, and put it on the table between them. 'Take this too. It's the folder I mentioned earlier. I'd like you to browse through it before you make up your mind. There are some gruesome elements to this case that I want you to know about beforehand.'
'Don't you think I can handle it?' asked Thora, half insulted.
'To tell you the truth, I don't know. That's why I'm asking you to look through the file. It contains pictures of the crime scene that aren't exactly pleasant, and all kinds of reading material that's hardly any better. I managed to acquire an assortment of documents from the investigation with the assistance of a man whom I'd prefer not to name.'
He put his hand on the file.
'It also contains details on Harald's life. They're not widely known and not for the faint of heart. I trust that, if you decide to back out of the whole matter, you will keep these matters confidential. The family does not care to have them spread around.'
He took his hand off the folder and looked Thora in the eye. 'I don't wish to add to their tragedy.'
'I understand,' Thora said. 'I can assure you that I don't gossip about my work.' She stared back and added, firmly: 'Ever.'
'Good.'
'But since you've collected all this materialwhy do you need me? You seem able to acquire information I'm not sure I could get hold of.'
'Do you want to know why we need you?'
'I think that's what I said,' Thora answered.
He inhaled quickly through his nose. 'I'll tell you why. I'm a foreigner in this country and a German as well. We need to discuss things with certain people who will never tell me anything of importance. I gathered the bulk of the details about Harald's personal life in Germany, but I've really just scratched the surface. I'm not the sort of person that people find it pleasant to discuss uncomfortable and difficult personal matters with.'
'I've realized that,' Thora blurted out.
The man smiled for the first time. Thora was surprised to see that his smile was beautiful, somehow genuine, even though his teeth were unnaturally white and straight. She could not help returning the smile, then added in embarrassment: 'What uncomfortable matters am I supposed to discuss with these people?'
His smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. 'Erotic asphyxiation, masochism, sorcery, self-mutilation, and other kinds of perverted behavior by seriously disturbed people.'
Thora was taken aback. 'I'm not sure I know what all that involves.' Erotic asphyxiation, for example; she had never heard of that. If it meant having sex while suffocating, she would actually prefer her current situation: not having sex, but at least being able to breathe.
When his smile returned it was not as friendly as before. 'Oh, you'll find out. Don't worry about that.'
They finished their coffee without saying a word, after which Thora picked up the folder and made ready to leave for her office. They agreed to meet again the following day and exchanged good-byes.
As Thora headed toward the exit, he put his hand on her shoulder. 'One final thing, Frau Gudmundsdottir.'
She turned round.
'I forgot to tell you why
'Why?'
'He did not have Harald's eyes in his possession. They had been cut out.'
CHAPTER 3
Thora was not usually afraid of thieves, but on her way from the meeting with Matthew she made sure to clutch her handbag tightly. She could not bear the thought of having to phone him to announce that the documents had been stolen. It was therefore with immense relief that she stepped inside the office.
She was greeted by the stench of tobacco smoke. 'Bella, you know smoking's not allowed in here.'
Bella jumped away from the window and threw something out in a fluster. 'I wasn't.' A thin strip of smoke curled up out of one side of her mouth.
Thora groaned to herself. 'Oh, in that case, your mouth's caught fire.' Then she added: 'Close the window and smoke in the coffee room. Surely you'll feel more comfortable there than hanging over the side of the building.'
'I wasn't smoking. I was shooing pigeons off the windowsill,' Bella retorted indignantly. Experience had taught Thora that it was not worth arguing with the girl. She went into her office and closed the door.
The file Matthew had given her was crammed full. It was black, which was somehow appropriate in light of its contents. The spine was unlabeled; no doubt it had been difficult to find an appropriate title. 'Harald Guntlieb in life and death,' Thora muttered as she opened the file and examined the neatly arranged table of contents. The file was divided into seven sections, apparently in chronological order: Germany, Military Service, the University of Munich, the University of Iceland, Bank Accounts, Police Investigation. The seventh and final section was called Autopsy. She decided to go through the file in the order in which it had been arranged.
Looking at her watch, she saw it was almost two o'clock. She would hardly have time to read it all before having to fetch her daughter Soley from after-school day careunless she hurried. Thora set her mobile phone alarm to a quarter to five. She was determined to get through most of the file by that time. She preferred not to have to take the documents home with her, although this was not uncommon when she was busy. What it contained was surely not the type of material to be left lying around in the presence of children. She turned over the first separator and started reading.
At the front was a stamped photocopy of a birth certificate. It stated that Frau Amelia Guntlieb had given birth to a healthy baby boy in Munich on June 18, 1978. The father's name was given as Herr Johannes Guntlieb, bank
