Bella yawned. ‘It’s just as dark as it was before. Maybe time has stopped.’
‘What nonsense. You need your eyesight checked if you can’t see the difference,’ spat Alvar, before turning back to the window again and staring up at the sky. It was indeed as plain as day that the darkness was slowly starting to vanish. Fri?rikka did not take part in the discussion about the colour of the sky. She was in a much better state than the night before. Admittedly, she wasn’t laughing and joking, but she was a great deal calmer. Crying was said to be cathartic, and it seemed to have done Fri?rikka some good at least. ‘I can’t believe we’re finally going home.’ She looked at Thora, who was starting to slump in her chair. ‘I only made arrangements for my cat until today. I haven’t been able to call or send a message to my neighbour, so I would have been in deep trouble if we’d had to stay here any longer.’ She looked embarrassed. ‘I know a hungry cat is hardly a big deal compared to what we’ve seen here, but I’m still worried about it.’
‘Bless you, of course you are.’ Thora smiled encouragingly at her. She had worried about having the bawling woman sitting next to her on the flight home, but those worries seemed redundant now. ‘If we always had to compare everything with the worst thing we can imagine we’d never get to the end of it, you can’t ask that of anyone. Your cat will be happy to have you home.’ Thora decided not to mention her children, who had hopefully missed their mother just a little bit.
‘I’m going to celebrate by going downtown and getting completely pissed.’ Eyjolfur stopped chewing his fingernails and shook himself as if he felt a sudden chill. ‘But first I’m going to take a two-hour shower.’
Although Thora envied him in a way, her years of getting wasted downtown were behind her. She just wanted to see her children and pinch her grandson’s chubby cheek, but once she’d done that she would certainly be ready for a two-hour shower. With Matthew, and without the influence of alcohol. Until then she would try to keep her wits about her. It would have been unrealistic to hope that they would find the three missing people alive in an igloo, waiting to rescued. Fri?rikka was perhaps the only one who had allowed herself to believe that. But their trip hadn’t been completely useless. As far as the bank was concerned, Thora was quite content; the sudden deaths of the three employees, which appeared not to have had anything to do with Berg, were a big step towards a settlement with Arctic Mining. Thora had already started writing a report for the bank but was finding it difficult to describe what had happened to the three employees without sounding like she was under the influence of illegal drugs. Bragi certainly wouldn’t appreciate her efforts if the bank came to that same conclusion.
‘The helicopter pilot has come out,’ said Alvar, excited. ‘It can’t be long now.’
Thora saved her document and shut her laptop. In any case, she couldn’t finish the report; Matthew had told her about the arrival of the hunter’s son in the police car during the night and it still remained to be seen what role he had played in the case. Unfortunately what did seem clear was that his role would be an ugly one. Thora felt sorry for poor Oqqapia. Their relationship had seemed quite unhealthy to her, and it could not have been pleasant for the woman to see the man she lived with dragged out of their home in handcuffs. Hopefully she would manage to stop drinking and get her life back on track. Unfortunately, statistics were not on her side. The police had taken Usinna’s files and books, the ones Oqqapia had lent them, promising to return them; Thora hoped the delay in returning the box would not get Oqqapia into trouble.
Eyjolfur had got up and now stood next to Alvar, watching the helicopter pilot. ‘What are we waiting for?’ he said, turning around. ‘Shouldn’t we go out?’
‘They’ll come and get us when it’s time,’ replied Matthew. ‘They still have to load the helicopter and there’s no reason for us to wait out in the cold while they’re doing that.’
‘Are we taking Oddny Hildur’s body with us?’ asked Fri?rikka in a weak voice. ‘She needs to get home.’
Thora was quick to reply. ‘Almost certainly not today, but she’ll be sent back to Iceland soon. They still need to investigate a few things before that can happen.’ She didn’t want to use the word ‘autopsy’ for fear of upsetting Fri?rikka. ‘The same goes for Bjarki and Dori. They’ll be sent home so that they can be buried properly. You remember what the policeman said about the bones; they’ll be returned to the family as quickly as possible. The same goes for Oddny Hildur and those two.’
There was a knock at the door and in peeked the young policeman who had stayed with them during the night. ‘You can get ready to go. We estimate the helicopter will be ready to take off in just over half an hour.’
They didn’t need to be told twice, and within the promised half hour they were all hurrying out to the helicopter. Their bags had been brought out and when Thora’s suitcase was thrown in rather roughly she suddenly felt overwhelmed by the longing to go home. She accepted Matthew’s help in getting into the helicopter and in a few moments they were all in their seats with their belts fastened. However, they had to sit that way for some time. ‘Don’t tell me something’s come up,’ muttered Eyjolfur, craning to look out of the window in the hope of seeing some activity. ‘If this helicopter doesn’t take off soon, I’ll go mad.’
He’d barely got the words out before the reason for the delay became clear. It wasn’t because the bodies of Oddny Hildur or the drillers were being sent on the same flight; instead two policemen appeared in the cafeteria doorway, half dragging between them Naruana, the son of the hunter Igimaq. The man was in handcuffs and walked with his head bent, hiding his face. The chief investigator took his shoulders and directed him towards the helicopter, while his partner followed close on their heels. The two helicopter pilots ran to assist them, then got on board, put on their headphones and started going over their instruments while the policemen tried with some difficulty to strap the prisoner into his seat. Thora and the others bore silent witness to the young man’s unhappiness and desperation. They either had to shut their eyes or witness the man’s hopeless attempts to escape, his crazed, bloodshot eyes and swollen face as he fought against the police tooth and nail. Then he collapsed without warning and surrendered control to them. The policemen exchanged cautious glances as they put the seatbelt around Naruana’s waist.
Thora took Fri?rikka’s gloved hand in hers as she stared at the back view of the man who had probably killed her friend. She leaned in close to Fri?rikka and whispered in her ear so the others couldn’t hear: ‘Don’t think about it. You’ll be home soon, with your cat in your arms.’ Fri?rikka nodded vigorously and seemed to accept this. Thora released her hands and hoped that they would reach their destination without World War Three breaking out on board the helicopter.
The propeller blades started rotating and after that no one spoke. Thora watched Naruana in between looking out of the window at the harsh white landscape. She noticed that he turned his head several times to look out, and couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. Perhaps he knew he wouldn’t see his home again for a very long time and wished to fix in his mind how the cliff belts highest up on the mountains tore through the snowy wastes, and how the endless ice cap reflected the light of the sun, which was still low in the sky.
The helicopter landed in Kulusuk. Thora and her colleagues were greatly disappointed to discover no plane from the Icelandic airline waiting for them on the runway. They would have to wait at the airport or go to the hotel. They left the helicopter wearily and waited as the police took Naruana off. Then they followed the trio in the direction of the terminal. As before, the chief investigator steered the young man, who seemed to have given up any attempt to escape. He walked alongside the officers without protest, although his steps were heavy. In the doorway of the terminal he suddenly turned around and looked back at them all. Fri?rikka stopped abruptly, causing Bella to run into her.
‘I didn’t kill anyone.’ You didn’t need to speak much Danish to understand Naruana’s words. ‘I didn’t kill anyone,’ he repeated, before being pulled roughly inside. The group remained standing outside, silently. Thora didn’t understand what the man hoped to achieve by telling them this; maybe he thought the group would get the authorities to release him. However, none of them wished to involve themselves in the man’s case, even if they had been in any position to do so.
‘What’s wrong with him?’ scowled Eyjolfur. ‘Does he expect us to feel sorry for him?’
‘I have to admit that I do now. This is a tragedy, no matter how you look at it. Maybe he thought he was pleasing the spirits that everyone fears so much.’ Thora entered the terminal without waiting for a response from Eyjolfur or Fri?rikka, who might have taken this to mean that Thora was insulting the memory of her dead friend. A police officer approached her as she entered and said they should sit down and wait for a moment while he checked on their flight home. They sat in a row in the plastic seats fastened to the wall of the little waiting room. The police walked off with Naruana, who did not look around, but stared fixedly down at his feet.
‘That’s the worst duty free shop I’ve ever seen.’ Bella pointed at the corner of the hall where the different types of alcohol, countable on the fingers of one hand, and cartons of four different types of cigarettes were arranged on the shelves. ‘And I thought the duty free shop in Reykjavik was a joke.’ Her comment lightened the rather oppressive atmosphere.
‘Wouldn’t it be a good idea to have a drink?’ Alvar stood up and walked to the window where American
