‘They only found Alda’s fingerprints. That doesn’t necessarily mean anything, because the one who… you know… could have used gloves. They found traces of latex powder, I understand,’ said Johanna, furrowing her brow slightly. ‘However, they were able to trace where the Botox came from. The other doctor, Agust is his name, had bought it. I’m not sure whether they’re telling the truth. Alda isn’t here any longer to defend herself, and it would be easy for them to make up anything. He says he and Alda had a kind of agreement: she got an unlimited supply of the substance and could do with it whatever she wanted. In return, she used her position at the A &E to put him in touch with patients.’
‘What?’ asked Thora.‘I’m not sure I understand you.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Johanna. ‘As I was saying, we’ve only got Agust’s word on this. He says that Alda sifted out the patients with facial injuries, or who had been wounded or scarred in some other way that might require a plastic surgeon’s help. She was supposed to recommend that they have their scars – or nose, or whatever part it was – fixed, and then give them Agust’s business card. Many of the patients would have been drunk or in shock, and thought that they were being ordered to go to another doctor – that this was a follow-up treatment after the initial examination in the A &E. So they flocked to Agust’s office.’
‘And was it not possible to check out this story?’ asked Thora. The police would hardly let such a vague report go uninvestigated.
‘Yes, Alda and Agust did in fact exchange a number of email messages. Dis passed them on to the police, along with the Botox. The messages proved this was going on. Apparently there was also a rumour about it going round the A &E, but as everyone knows it’s not that hard to forge an email, and workplace gossip has never been considered a trustworthy source.’
Thora nodded, even though she had no idea how to send a fake email. Nor did it seem likely that Dis would be able to do so. The A &E gossip mentioned by Johanna must have been what Hannes had hinted at but refused to discuss. ‘Why did Alda need Botox?’ asked Thora.‘Couldn’t she get them to give her injections for free?’
‘She supposedly invited friends and acquaintances home and gave them injections for a fee, but much lower than at the plastic surgeon’s, and naturally it was far less trouble for people,’ said Johanna, and she shook her head.‘They’re saying Alda was getting a fair bit of extra income from this.’
‘Is that right? Do you believe she did this?’
‘No, I can’t imagine it. It’s one thing to tell your sister she can come and get Botox, and quite another for every old bag in town to be queuing up at her door.’
There was no need to discuss this any further. Johanna had thought that she was the only one receiving this service, and the same probably went for all the other women. ‘Has anyone come up with an explanation for why one of the men in the basement was… you know…’ Thora looked out of the corner of her eye at Soley, who was intently folding up the wrapper of her chocolate bar. She drew her index finger across her throat.
Johanna shook her head.‘DNA tests have shown that Adolf is not the son of the man whose head was cut off,’ she said. ‘His father was one of the men in the basement who was… whole.’ Thora grimaced. Had Alda dismembered the wrong man? She dared not speak her thoughts aloud for fear Johanna would clam up. She would never accept that Alda had had anything to do with it.‘He’s put in a claim for Alda’s estate, and Mother and I have been told that it will probably be approved. So it won’t fall to us,’ said Johanna, who appeared completely unperturbed. ‘The worst of it is that he doesn’t want to talk to us, won’t even meet us. He didn’t even go to his mother’s funeral.’
‘I’m sure that will improve over time,’ said Thora, without much conviction. It was unlikely that Adolf would mend his ways. ‘Alda’s story is just so tragic.’
‘Yes, but this does explain some things,’ said Johanna. ‘Now I appreciate why she and her husband divorced. He was a wonderful man, but from what I understand now she’d never actually been able to have sex after the rape. She had recently started seeing a sex therapist, but to my knowledge the treatment hadn’t produced any results. At least, Alda had never been with any men.’ Orri’s head had sunk to his chest, along with the untouched flatbread. He was fast asleep in Thora’s arms. ‘Is he yours?’ asked Johanna.
‘Not exactly,’ said Thora.‘He’s my grandson.’ She adjusted the boy in her lap.
‘Did you know that Alda was a grandmother?’ asked the other woman sadly. Thora shook her head.‘She never knew it, but Adolf has a daughter. She’s very ill, unfortunately. Mum has gone to visit her in hospital. She was with her this morning.’
‘How is your mother?’ asked Thora. is she any better?‘
Johanna smiled unhappily.‘She’s not very well. She’s very unhappy with how slowly the investigation of Alda’s murder is going.’ She looked at her watch.‘She promised to drop by, but I don’t know if she’ll make it. She’s been absolutely impossible this afternoon, ever since she returned from her hospital visit. She had some sort of VISA receipt and needed desperately to find out who it belonged to. It was impossible to read the signature clearly but I went into the bank system from my home computer and I managed to dig it up. Hjalti Markusson. She calmed down after that. God knows why. I’m worried about her; I think she’s obsessed with Leifur and Markus’s family.’ Johanna looked around the empty tent. ‘Mother and I are more or less invisible these days. She takes it very much to heart, even though she doesn’t say so. Leifur and Markus seem to have come out of this as some sort of heroes, along with their father, but it’s as if people aren’t sure how they should act towards us. I don’t get it.’
Thora thought she knew what was going on. People were unsure of the state of the relationship between these two families after everything that had happened. Markus had been locked up, but Johanna’s mother had neglected to tell the authorities that he wasn’t involved at all in the old case. So it was safer to be on the side of the fishing mogul than of the widow and her daughter, the bank clerk. ‘Well,’ said Thora, ‘I guess I should start making my way back home.’ She stood up, trying to ignore Johanna’s mournful look. She couldn’t do it. ‘Will you be here tomorrow?’ she asked.‘We’ll be around, and we’d be happy to drop by.’ The smile on Johanna’s face said everything that needed to be said.
It looked as though all the guests in Leifur and Markus’s tent had left in a rush, and if Thora had come just a few minutes later she might have found the place empty. ‘We’re heading over for the singing,’ said Markus, even more garrulous than when Thora had left their tent earlier. ‘A good spot has been reserved for us and I’m sure we can make some room for you.’
Thora declined. ‘No, thank you, I’ve got to get home. I just came to fetch the pushchair,’ she said.
‘Bring her the pushchair, Hjalti,’ said Leifur, his speech even more slurred than Markus’s.
The boy stood up without looking at her. He had removed his fake beard but was still wearing the red hat. He seemed very ill at ease, and Thora was starting to find it peculiar. Maybe he was one of those who couldn’t hold his liquor – or perhaps he was ashamed of his father when he drank. He lifted the pushchair and heaved it clumsily across the tent. Thora could not grab it because of the child in her arms, but Maria reached for it and after a short struggle managed to open it and set it up for Thora. Thora hardly dared to lay Orri in it for fear that it would collapse on him. The woman stood unsteadily next to Thora, and nearly lost her balance when the tent flaps opened.
Thora could tell from the look on Leifur’s face that the visitor was not particularly welcome. The corners of Markus’s mouth had also drooped a little, but otherwise his face was impassive. Thora had her back to the entrance, but looked around to see who it was. Alda’s mother had arrived. She still looked as devastated as when Thora had seen her after the funeral, but now there was a kind of grim determination in her face. ‘Perhaps my Geiri and your father were friends,’ said the old woman, at first hesitantly, but growing bolder with every word. ‘But I have never really known much about Magnus. Destiny favoured him more than most, at least in the beginning. He took a risk and continued his fishing operation, and caught more fish than ever before. He took the blame for Dadi, but because of the eruption the case was forgotten. You, his sons, have lived off your father your entire lives. People tiptoe around you both – especially you, Leifur.’
‘Shouldn’t we talk after the festival?’ said Leifur, who seemed to have sobered up in an instant.‘I understand there’s a lot on your mind, but now is neither the time nor the place.’
‘No, Leifur,’ replied the old woman. ‘You don’t get to decide now. I have
