knife in the other. ‘You do realize there is a natural explanation for why there might be blood on these tools?’
‘That may be, but the amount makes me doubt it came from a fisherman knocking out fish – that wouldn’t leave so much blood behind on the priest. Wouldn’t you agree?’
Gudni narrowed his eyes and his lips thinned.‘What are you hoping to get out of this?’ he asked, leaning forward on his elbows.
Thora knew he wasn’t talking about her fee. ‘I thought we were hoping for the same thing,’ she replied. ‘To find the murderer. The real murderer.’
Gudni chose not to reply. He continued to stare into Thora’s eyes, but then he had to blink. He said,‘Oh, we’ll find him. Without your help.’
‘Oh, you think so?’ muttered Thora, but decided not to squabble with him. She changed the subject.‘What can you tell me about an old case involving smuggled spirits, one that came up here just before the eruption?’
Gudni seemed startled by the unexpected new topic. ‘What does that have to do with this case?’ he asked. Thora said nothing. ‘I think you’re really clutching at straws if you want to drag that old incident into this.’ He leaned back and clasped his hands over his chest. ‘Are you withholding information from us?’
‘No, not at all. I’ve just heard it mentioned twice in my conversations with locals and I wanted to find out more about it, even if only to rule out any links to the current case.’
‘I see,’ he said.‘It’s hardly a secret, I just thought most people would have forgotten that case. It surprises me that anyone brought it up after all these years.’ He unclenched his fingers and started cracking his knuckles, one after another. ‘It wouldn’t be thought remarkable today, in comparison with all the big drug cases. It became evident that an unusual quantity of grain alcohol was in circulation on the Islands, and all the signs pointed at two residents. The investigation hadn’t yet concluded when the eruption occurred, but it was a long way along. Then it was dropped in light of the circumstances.’
‘Who were the men involved?’asked Thora. ‘I know about Kjartan at the harbour-master’s office, but who was the other man?’
Gudni cracked the knuckle of his thumb, unusually loudly. ‘You don’t know him.’
Thora named the one man who came to mind apart from Paddi the Hook, who seemed unlikely to be the culprit.‘Was it Dadi Horseshoe?’
Gudni couldn’t hide his surprise. Thora had obviously guessed correctly. ‘I’m not going to speak to you about anyone but your client,’ he answered. ‘However, I can tell you that neither of these men was a suspect for long, because a third man turned himself in and confessed everything the morning before the eruption. He got lucky, because as I just said, the investigation didn’t go any further.’
Thora knitted her brow. Who could it be? ‘Was it Magnus?’ she asked, and again saw that she had guessed correctly.
‘Why don’t you ask him about it?’ suggested Gudni sarcastically. ‘If there’s nothing more you want to enquire about, it’s just a question of telling me whether you found anything else down in the basement. I’m passing this information on to Reykjavik, so now’s your chance.’
‘No,’ replied Thora curtly. ‘That’s all.’ She smirked at Gudni as she thought about what she and Bella had managed to dig up. Several old poetry books bound in leather, an old-fashioned copper compass and gold coins that didn’t appear to come from any particular country. Before she handed these things over, she wanted to check whether they could conjure something useful out of Magnus. The evidence was starting to point ominously towards the old fishing tycoon.
‘Adolf, the only thing that could justify your continuing existence on the planet would be if you started breathing carbon dioxide and exhaling oxygen.’ The woman’s anger was written all over her face, although her sadness was even clearer.‘You know my opinion of you and that’s not going to change, so we shouldn’t waste time arguing.’
Adolf looked at the mother of his child, saying nothing. He wanted to make some retort, something that would sting her, but couldn’t think of anything clever. He could tell her she looked knackered and ask if she’d looked in the mirror today, but that was too feeble. Sometimes it was best to keep quiet and settle for a dirty look, which he was rather good at. He didn’t even need to try; the expression crept over his face automatically as soon as she sat down and started talking. He shouldn’t have opened the door when he saw who it was. He didn’t own a car, so she could have concluded that he wasn’t at home and left. Adolf couldn’t bear her, or the guilt she always tried to make him feel on the rare occasions they talked. It wasn’t his damn fault she’d got pregnant. If he’d had any inkling that would happen after their long-ago one- night stand, he would have stayed home that night. He only vaguely remembered the night they had made Tinna, that’s how unexciting the sex had been. He’d had better sex with women who were barely conscious.
‘Are you even listening to me?’she said, shooting him a dirty look of her own. ‘I want you to talk to Tinna’s psychiatrist. He wants to meet you, but you’re not returning his calls. You wouldn’t be doing this for me, if that’s what’s stopping you.’
‘What the hell am I meant to say to him? If Tinna’s in some kind of trouble, it’s your fault. You raised her.’ Adolf shrugged to show how little this affected him.‘And what genius came up with the idea of sending her to a shrink? There’s nothing wrong with her that a good meal wouldn’t fix. You’d be better off giving her something to eat, so maybe you should rethink your cooking. It’s hardly surprising she doesn’t want to eat, because you can’t cook for shit.’ He actually had no idea what kind of cook she was.
‘I always knew you weren’t that bright, but I hadn’t realized you were retarded,’ said the woman, her face flushed. She had clenched her hands into fists. ‘Do you know anything about this disease? Have you taken the time to go online and read about what’s killing your daughter?’
‘It’s all rubbish,’ said Adolf, feeling his voice deepen to a rumble as it always did when he was very angry. ‘Everyone knows the system wants to make out kids have all got something wrong with them. They’re diagnosed with attention deficit disorder, hyperactive disorder, God knows what else, just so the therapists can rake it in. Tinna is skinny because she doesn’t eat enough. Maybe you let her watch too much TV and read about too many models in magazines.’
She sighed. ‘Will you talk to this man, for your daughter, or not?’ She stood up from her armchair and looked around. The look on her face now beat Adolf’s dirty look hands down.‘I seriously doubt any good will come of it, so I don’t give a shit what you do. At least I can tell the doctor with a clean conscience that I told you to call him.’
‘What does he want me to say?’said Adolf, suddenly disappointed that she was leaving. It had been a long time since he’d had a visitor, though he hadn’t given it much thought.
His friends had made themselves scarcer and scarcer as his trial date drew closer. They didn’t want to be seen being friends with a rapist. Adolf didn’t like this, but he did understand. He would do exactly the same in their shoes. ‘Do you want some coffee? I’ve got coffee. If you want.’
She looked at him in surprise. ‘No, no thanks.’ She adjusted her handbag on her shoulder and shifted the weight of her slender body onto one foot. ‘Will you talk to him?’ she repeated.
Adolf shrugged again and looked away from her to the sofa in front of him. ‘If I knew what I was supposed to say, of course I would do it. But I still don’t understand what good it would do.’
‘I don’t know what he wants to talk to you about,’ she said, and he could hear exhaustion in her voice.‘If you’re worried he’ll start psychoanalyzing you, you can relax. As far as I know he’s simply trying to get a more complete picture of what’s going on.’
‘A complete picture?’ asked Adolf, who was having trouble understanding this. Suddenly he wanted to please her and say yes, say he would call the doctor. Still, he didn’t want to go. He didn’t understand the purpose of this and he didn’t like psychiatrists, psychologists, any of that lot. Specialists always confused him and he felt uncomfortable around them.
She looked at him expectantly, obviously keen to get going. Adolf suddenly saw through her: she wanted him to say no, and not go. Then she could continue to be the martyr, the poor single mother with the sick daughter who received no assistance or understanding from the child’s dastardly father. She cleared her throat nervously as she realized he’d figured her out. Or maybe it was just tiredness and resignation he saw in her eyes. ‘A complete picture of Tinna’s life, who she was before this disease took over,’ she said. ‘If it
