had become extremely thick and every breath was accompanied by a foul taste like musty old books. ‘The body hasn’t been found.’ Despite this, Bella followed Thora and took her place at her side.
‘Of course the police have already looked here,’ said Thora. ‘It’s out of the question that the body is anywhere in this house, let alone in the basement.’Nevertheless she felt her stomach muscles tighten. She grabbed the handle of one of the doors and opened it with her eyes closed. She stood for a moment in front of Bella, knowing that the secretary could not see her face. After a few seconds, when Bella still hadn’t kicked up the ashes and fled, Thora knew it was safe to open her eyes. ‘It’s amazing the junk people put in their storerooms,’ she exclaimed, looking at the jumble of tyres, batteries, tools and unidentifiable spare parts. ‘The police have clearly moved things around,’ she added, pointing at white rings on the floor from where the tyres must previously have lain.
‘Do you think they’re here?’ asked Bella, poking her head through the doorway. ‘Those books and things?’
‘No,’ said Thora, shaking her head. ‘Hardly. The stuff in this storeroom belongs more in a garage than a basement. I don’t imagine Magnus would have stored old books along with nuts and bolts.’ She used her torch to make sure there weren’t any hidden boxes or shelves where the items might possibly be found. ‘Let’s try the other door,’ she said, closing the first one. She couldn’t figure out whether she’d rather see boxes and other items hidden there, or nothing, which would mean they could get out of the basement. She opened the second door in the same way as the first. When she opened her eyes she knew they wouldn’t be leaving here any time soon. It was a full-sized storeroom with shelves on all the walls, each of them full of boxes and other things that weren’t fit for around the house but were important enough not to go in the bin.
‘Holy moly,’ said Bella.‘Are you going to go through all of this?’ She followed Thora into the storeroom and pointed at the imprint of a box in the dust on one of the shelves. ‘The police have obviously looked through this stuff, so I doubt there’s anything important hidden here.’
Thora opened the first box.‘This’ll be quick,’ she said distractedly, pointing her torch into the box. ‘We’re looking for books, a compass and money. Coins, I think.’
Bella sighed and walked to the shelf farthest from Thora. ‘That’s easy for you to say,’ she said, picking up a child’s school cap. ‘It looks like everything’s all mixed up here.’ She reached for a frying pan. ‘What’s wrong with people?’ she asked. ‘Why don’t they throw away their rubbish?’
‘Times were different when these things were packed up,’ said Thora, still examining the box in front of her. She found herself thinking about what was hidden in her own storeroom. She hoped her house would never be buried by ash, so that others would never rummage through her belongings later and make critical remarks. ‘People had to make do and mend, and most things were more expensive than they are now.’
‘What, even hair?’ said Bella. ‘Ugh.’
Thora couldn’t stop to look at what Bella was grumbling about, since she thought she’d seen something that could be loose change glinting at the bottom of her box. ‘People still keep locks of their babies’ hair. It’s very common, although I don’t understand what one’s actually supposed to do with it,’ she said, as she reached a hand into the box. She pulled out two teaspoons, then let them fall back in. She closed the carton and turned to the next one.
‘This isn’t from a baby, I can tell you that,’ said Bella. ‘It can’t be.’
‘My mother has hair from her grandmother,’ said Thora, adjusting her torch beam. ‘She could never bring herself to throw it away, and I believe she may take it with her to the grave.’ She was glad she’d brought Bella with her. If she’d been down here alone she wouldn’t have lasted long. Although the conversation wasn’t all that gripping, it helped her forget the foul air and the fear that the house might crash down on their heads. She aimed her torch into another box. At the top lay something lacy in a plastic bag that had once been clear but had started to yellow. Thora pulled it out and saw that it was a christening gown. She set it aside and continued digging through all sorts of children’s clothing, for the most part homemade, either knitted or crocheted. At the bottom of the box were two books marked with gold letters: Baby’s First Year.
Thora had been given a book like this as a gift when her son Gylfi was born and she had managed to write things in it during the first three months of his life. The book had then been forgotten and never used again. The box also contained various items such as plates for children, silverware and a large old-fashioned baby’s bottle.‘I just have baby stuff,’ she told Bella. ‘Did you find anything besides locks of hair?’
‘An old bathing suit,’ said Bella. ‘I think it’s mouldy. It smells bad.’
Thora was removing the last few things from the box, when she noticed the baby’s bottle was unusually heavy. She pointed the torch at it and saw there was something inside.
‘What’s this?’ she asked herself, unscrewing the top.
‘What?’ asked Bella, looking up from the bathing suit.
A small mallet dropped out of the bottle with a heavy thud. ‘Who would keep a salmon priest in a baby bottle?’asked Thora, grimacing.
‘A priest?’ said Bella.
‘Yes, a salmon priest. It’s the hammer a fisherman uses to stun the fish, after he’s caught it.’
‘What fucked-up religion do you belong to?’ said Bella, coming and looking over Thora’s shoulder.‘And what are those marks on it?’ The light was stronger now that there were two torches. It was a keen observation on Bella’s part: the copper mallet was covered with black spots.
‘It could very well be blood,’ mused Thora. Was this the weapon the unidentified men in the basement had got to know first-hand? She put it to one side and picked up a little shoebox that contained several tiny pairs of shoes,and underneath them an ornate knife. ‘Look at this,’ she said.
Bella moved closer to her to get a better look, and when Thora’s phone rang she gave a screech that cut through the oppressive silence. Thora was equally startled, though she managed to suppress the scream that nearly burst out of her. She fumbled for the phone and answered it. ‘Thora speaking,’ she said, affecting nonchalance. She hoped this wasn’t someone from the Islands, asking what she was up to.
‘Hi, this is Dis at the plastic surgery clinic,’ said the voice on the other end. ‘I have a small problem related to your investigation into Alda’s death.’
‘Really?’ asked Thora, surprised and a little relieved not to have to make up an excuse for where she was.
‘Yes. I was hoping you could help me. I need a lawyer.’
Chapter Thirty
Thora stared at the paper in front of her. It was not yet eight o’clock. She wasn’t usually up and about this early, but tourists eager for a full day’s adventures had woken her with their clatter in the corridor at around seven, and she hadn’t been able to get back to sleep. She had jumped into the shower and sat down at the little desk in her room in the hope of working out the facts of the case. This was easier said than done, and Dis’s phone call the night before hadn’t done anything to make it easier. Dis hadn’t wanted to say anything except that she had information that needed to be shared with the police. However, her own interests compelled her to speak to a lawyer first; she’d had only Thora’s number, so had called her. Thora explained to Dis that she couldn’t help her since she was Markus’s lawyer and he was the only suspect in the case. She asked if Dis would like to speak to Bragi and Dis had taken Bragi’s number. When Thora spoke to him later in the evening, Bragi had told her to prepare herself for new information to appear in Markus’s case very soon. He did not say what this information was, and Thora knew better than to interrogate him about it. He was obligated to protect his client’s confidentiality. Thora had to ask him one thing, though – whether the information in question was likely to be positive or negative for Markus. Bragi had thought it over for a long time but replied that he hadn’t actually worked that out yet. If forced to choose, he would say more positive than negative.
