down to give to his lawyer. This was bound to work, especially if Tinna could be called upon to testify and persuaded to say that he was her main guardian. No judge with a trace of humanity could sentence him to prison after hearing a testimony like that from a sick child. Adolf was glad she still looked like a child, even though she was now sixteen.
He wondered briefly whether he should phone his lawyer and speak to her – that always made him feel better. She always managed to come up with something to quash any negative thoughts he was having about the case. Sometimes she did this by telling him good news about the other case that she was handling for him, making the hospital in Isafjordur realize that unfortunately they would not be able to wriggle out of paying Adolf compensation for his mother’s death. He smiled just thinking about the sum she’d mentioned. He couldn’t complain about his financial situation; he had inherited his parents’ mortgage-free house and everything that they had managed to scrape together in the course of their lives, for the most part unconditionally, if you didn’t count that wretched inheritance tax. The additional compensation would just be the icing on a delicious cake that had pretty much landed in his lap. Nevertheless, he decided not to call. She would probably start talking about Alda and he didn’t want to hear it right now. He’d gladly never hear her name again, especially right now. He didn’t want to think about what had happened when they’d met. Nor did he want to have to explain to his lawyer that Alda would not be testifying for him as they had been hoping. Not a hope in hell of that, now.
‘Tomorrow,’ replied Thora, in answer to her daughter’s usual question: When are you coming home? ‘Early, in fact. Probably before lunch.’
‘Good,’ said Soley, happily. She dropped her voice to a whisper, so Thora had to strain to hear her. ‘Grandma’s making those disgusting meatballs wrapped in leaves.’
‘Aha,’ said Thora, smiling to herself. Cabbage-balls hadn’t been her favourite either when she was Soley’s age. ‘I’ll make you something for lunch. Don’t worry.’ She said goodbye to her daughter, who told her that Gylfi wanted to talk to her. Her son’s husky voice took over.
‘Can you find me a place to stay in the Islands for the festival?’ he said, without saying hello or wasting time on small talk. Ah, the August Bank Holiday festival, thought Thora. She’d forgotten that was coming up. The Westmann Islands were famous for it. ‘Everything’s fully booked and I can’t stay in a tent with Sigga and Orri,’ he went on.
‘I would have thought the main obstacle to staying in a tent would have been you,’ replied Thora. Gylfi was hardly an outdoors man. ‘And it’s out of the question that you take the baby to the festival with you. He’s far too little.’ She looked up at the ceiling. ‘In fact, you’re too young yourselves.’ It was extremely unfortunate that the human body matured so early. It had no doubt been a benefit when people died around thirty, but it was absurd for longer lifespans. ‘It’s a bad idea for you to come here.’
‘I thought maybe you’d come with us,’ said Gylfi quickly. ‘We could rent an apartment for all of us to stay in, including Soley. Then you could look after Orri if Sigga and I need to go off somewhere, food shopping or whatever.’
At first Thora was amazed and pleased to hear that Gylfi wanted to have her with them, but then the penny dropped. She was supposed to pay to rent an apartment, do the cooking and cleaning and take care of Orri as well. She had to hand it to Gylfi: she could hardly say he’d been sneaky about it. He’d gotstraight to the point, at least, which was a definite plus. ‘I’ll see what I can do, but I think it’s pretty much impossible to find an apartment here now,’ said Thora after thinking for a moment. She could think of far worse things than a little holiday with her children for the Bank Holiday weekend. Mind you, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have been invited to go with Gylfi and Sigga if they hadn’t had the baby.
‘Awesome,’ said Gylfi.‘Check on a flight for us too,’ he added, as a parting shot.‘It looks like they’re all booked too.’
Thora rolled her eyes and said goodbye. In the wake of this call she made several unsuccessful attempts to find accommodation for the weekend in question. She was in her hotel room, so she started by ringing reception in the hope that two rooms might be free. Her question was actually met with laughter, and the same occurred when she tried other accommodation in the Islands. One woman who ran a guesthouse felt sorry for her and offered to check on whether there were still any apartments open. There were always people willing to rent their apartments that weekend, to families rather than groups of teenagers. She took down Thora’s number but told her not to get her hopes up. Thora didn’t feel like checking on flights or sea crossings until it was clear they could get accommodation. It wasn’t much good being able to come to the festival if they’d be out on the street. She was getting ready to go down to meet Bella for something to eat when the phone rang again. It was Matthew. His voice sounded cheerful even though he hadn’t yet decided whether he would take the job in Iceland. Reading between the lines, Thora thought he was waiting to see if she would make his decision easier: he would come if she encouraged him, but would stay put if she indicated that she would rather he didn’t.
He seemed to have resolved not to discuss his decision, although it made conversation embarrassing and awkward. She wanted him to come, but was nervous about how it would go if their interest in each other started to dwindle over time. She decided to change the subject so that there would be no danger of her giving in and asking him to take the job.‘Why would you cut someone’s genitals off and stuff them in their mouth?’ was the only thing that she could think of saying. The part of the autopsy report concerned with the head was preoccupying her. It had stated that the mouth of the severed head had contained a man’s reproductive organ, likely from the same person. That was the unexpected element Gudni had hinted at.
There was a long silence at the other end of the phone.
Finally Matthew spoke: ‘I’m just wondering what it is you wanted to say, whether I’ve misunderstood. I can’t come up with anything, so I’m starting to think I didn’t mishear you at all.’
‘No,’ said Thora.‘You didn’t mishear me. At the moment I’m working on a case that concerns, among other things, a head in that very same condition.’
‘A head?’ said Matthew, clearly baffled. ‘I see you haven’t yet switched over to divorce cases, like you were thinking of doing. Or is this one of them?’
‘I wish I knew whose head it was,’ replied Thora sadly, before running through the case swiftly with him. When she had finished she repeated her original question. ‘If I knew what would drive a murderer to do such a thing, perhaps I could narrow down the number of possible suspects.’
‘It sounds to me as if this case is one of those that will never be solved,’ said Matthew, tacitly declining to discuss the mutilation. ‘So much time has passed that I doubt you’ll get anywhere.’
‘That would be bad news for my client,’ said Thora. ‘He doesn’t want this allegation hanging over his head for the rest of his life, which is what might happen if the truth doesn’t come out.’ She paused before adding: ‘I mean, it’s the best he could hope for in the event that the guilty party isn’t found.
He could very well be charged or sentenced. For the moment there are no other suspects and this investigation has all the makings of a media circus. It’s not the kind of case that brings out the best in the police or the justice system.‘
‘You take on the strangest jobs,’said Matthew. ‘Is that deliberate?’
‘No, far from it,’ said Thora emphatically. ‘At least I have to believe it’s not. I didn’t go searching for the man. When I took this case on I expected the worst, but not that heads would roll, literally…’ She exhaled.‘But you haven’t answered my question about the way this head has been treated. Have you ever heard of such a thing?’
‘Well, I’m no expert,’replied Matthew, and Thora could hear his voice taking on a more serious tone. ‘But of course I’ve heard and read about similar cases.’
‘Of course,’ said Thora.‘It happens all the time, silly me.’
Matthew sounded insulted. ‘You know what I mean. These things aren’t unheard of in wartime; in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if it happened in prehistoric times. Its purpose is almost certainly to deprive the victim of his masculinity,and at the same time to display the perpetrator’s revulsion towards the individual in question. The Mafia also used to do it to traitors.’
Thora raised a sarcastic eyebrow, although Matthew couldn’t see her. ‘I doubt the Mafia had anything to do with this. This is a small community dependent on fishing, with little to interest the Mafia.’
