it by pouring gallons of alcohol down their necks.
She hoped this also applied to Gylfi and Sigga, but she hadn’t seen them since they arrived at the festival ground in Herjolfsdalur Valley, on the covered back of one of the trucks used to transport festival-goers to and fro. There the young couple had met their friends and gone off with them to the concerts, while Thora stayed behind with the younger generation. She had gone in search of Markus and Leifur’s tent, and after threading her way through dense rows of tents that all looked the same, she finally found it.
Thora enjoyed a hero’s welcome in the packed tent, where she was plied with smoked puffin and red wine. Soley and Orri got as many biscuits as they could eat and as much chocolate milk as they could drink. Thora’s fears that Leifur and Maria might bear her a grudge were clearly unfounded, and Markus had urged her to drop by. Klara was elsewhere, thankfully – Thora was fairly certain she would not have shown her the same hospitality. The huge tent was decorated according to local tradition, a semi-living room having been set up inside. It was incredibly well furnished, with three sofas, a refrigerator, a large table, and even pictures hanging from the canvas walls.
Maria’s eyes were watery as she hugged Thora across the wide table, coming very close to falling across it. Darling, it’s so nice of you to come. It was more of a surprise to see the brothers drinking. Neither was actually drunk, but both were red-cheeked and spoke louder than usual. Leifur was very generous with the bottle, repeatedly offering to refill the glasses of all the other guests in the tent, whom Thora did not recognize at all. There was plenty of wine to go around, nonetheless. Leifur had been positioned in the very middle of the tent, but he clambered through the group to plonk himself down on the arm of the sofa where she sat. ‘You did a good job,’ he whispered in her ear, grinning foolishly at her. Before Thora could ask what he meant, he bent down to her again. ‘Markus is happy, and this was all for the best. Here in the Islands everyone understands what happened, and I don’t think I’ve ever been asked by so many people to give their regards to Father.’ Thora nodded and muttered that it was her pleasure.‘Here’s to the lawyer!’ thundered Leifur over the crowd, who lifted their glasses simultaneously.
Markus joined in energetically and grinned at Thora as widely as his older brother. His travel ban would soon expire, and there was no imminent prospect of it being renewed. He flung his arm around the person sitting next to him and hugged him tight. This was a young man who appeared to be dressed as a garden gnome – the only one inside the packed tent wearing a costume, although these had been a common sight in the throng outside where the crowd was younger. He was wearing a red conical hat, which stood at least half a metre high, a fake white beard and a white wig. It was Hjalti, Markus’s son. Unlike the others in the tent he did not seem to be enjoying himself much. Thora could feel him staring at her from under his bizarre hat, but he looked away when their eyes met. She thought perhaps he was embarrassed by his emotional reunion with his father the day that Markus was released from custody, which Thora had witnessed. Out of respect for this, she avoided looking too much in his direction. This was easier said than done, since Markus was constantly shouting out to her. One of the things he needed to tell her was that he had now signed off on an apartment in the Islands for his son. A shout was raised for a toast to Hjalti, who looked positively queasy throughout. Finally Thora herself felt unwell, and she decided to take the kids outside for a while. It was still quite bright outside, and despite the crowds in the tent Leifur had happily offered to store Thora’s covered pushchair. The ground in Herjolfsdalur was far too soft to use it.
Thora stood and picked Orri back up. He spread out his arms, leaned into her and laid his chin on her shoulder. He was so affectionate that it occasionally worried Thora, who feared he would have to spend his whole life comforting others. She pushed these thoughts away and tried to attain the carefree joy that seemed to characterize everything and everyone in the valley. Thora didn’t know why she felt so out of sorts, and hoped it wasn’t because of the phone call from Bella that morning. The secretary had dreamt about Thora and found herself compelled to call and tell her boss about the dream. In it Thora was surrounded by ash, which came out of her ears and mouth, and according to the dream analysis website Bella swore by, ash always symbolized bad luck. It could be an omen of a lawsuit, trouble or adversity. Thora had a sneaking feeling that if the dream had been given a positive interpretation, Bella would not have called.
She said goodbye to her secretary after telling her she didn’t believe in that nonsense, and that Bella shouldn’t either. Afterwards, however, Thora didn’t feel that convinced. She blamed it on a nagging feeling she had had ever since Markus’s case was closed. Alda’s murderer was still on the loose, and Thora hated unsolved cases. She had followed the media closely, but according to them the investigation appeared to have run aground.
Thora found it odd to think that in her pursuit of leads for Markus, she had probably met the murderer. In her mind many people were suspects, some more likely than others. Highest on her list were Adolf, Halldora Dogg and the plastic surgeon Dis. She hadn’t met Dis’s colleague Agust, so couldn’t gauge the likelihood of his involvement.
But this was a festival; people were supposed to enjoy themselves, not wonder about things they couldn’t change. Thora forced a smile.
‘Shall we go for a wander?’ she asked her daughter. ‘You should show off your nose a bit.’
‘I want to visit a tent, like before,’ said Soley. The hair- band, which was much too large, had slipped down over her forehead. ‘They’re so cool.’
‘We can’t just drop in anywhere, but we’ll walk around and have a look at them,’ said Thora.‘There are so many of them and we’ve seen only a small part of the grounds.’ They walked in the direction of the furthest row of tents facing the slope. ‘Maybe we’ll see Gylfi and Sigga,’Thora said, as she looked hopelessly over the crowd of people on the hillside.
They had come to the tent right at the end. No sound came from it, neither talking nor singing, unlike the other tents.‘Can I look in, Mum?’ implored Soley. ‘Just a peek?’
Thora nodded, since she couldn’t see that it would do any harm. People appeared to be wandering around and peering into tents without anyone thinking it the least bit unnatural. Most of these people were residents of the Islands or had moved away, and were looking for friends or acquaintances. Soley pulled the white canvas flap wide open, forgetting she had promised ‘just a peek’. This tent was much smaller than Markus and Leifur’s, which had been two tents joined together. Nor was it as richly furnished: it had one lopsided sofa and two kitchen stools. On one of them sat Alda’s sister Johanna, with a heaped platter of flatbread and smoked lamb in front of her. Cling film still covered everything. Johanna stared at Soley then looked past her at Thora, whom she recognized immediately. ‘Oh, come in,’ she said, looking pleased. She stood up and beckoned them in. ‘I’ve got plenty of everything.’ The last sentence sounded even more desperate than the first. Thora accepted the offer.
‘It’s really nice to see you,’ said Johanna, as she removed the cling film from the flatbread. ‘What would the kids like?’ she asked, and started to rattle off all the different types of food in the tent.
After Soley got her Prince Polo chocolate and a glass of fizzy orange, Thora accepted a piece of flatbread, even though she was far from hungry. She gave Orri another piece to nibble at, though the child had also had enough to eat. She couldn’t let the woman go home with her platter of food untouched. ‘Has anything happened in Alda’s case?’ asked Thora after swallowing, more to break the ice than to satisfy her own curiosity. She knew nothing about Johanna, and this was the only thing they had in common.
‘Well, I don’t know what to tell you,’ said Johanna. ‘A lot of leads turned up, but none of them seems to point to her murderer.’
Thora nodded and took another bite.‘I know one of the doctors Alda worked with came forward with information that I had hoped would help.’ Thora hadn’t tried to persuade Bragi to tell her what it was about, though she had often been on the verge of doing so.
Johanna held the plate out to Soley in case she wanted some flatbread to go with her other snacks.‘Yes, yes,’ she replied, putting it down when the girl declined a slice. ‘That woman handed over the drug, you know, the Botox, which had been used to…’ Johanna stopped and looked at Soley. ‘… well, you know. She had taken it from Alda’s bedside table when she found her… you know… I understand that she hadn’t wanted her office to become involved in the case, and she thought that Alda had committed… you know.’
‘Was it possible to trace where the Botox came from, and perhaps find some fingerprints on the bottle?’ asked Thora, managing to phrase her question without saying you know.
