Gudni shrugged. He seemed to be in good shape for a man his age, as far as Thóra could tell; fairly trim, and with a good head of hair. She couldn’t shake the impression that he looked like Clint Eastwood, and she had an overwhelming desire to stick a toothpick in the corner of his mouth to get the full effect. He stared at her for a moment as if he knew what she was thinking, before turning to Markus. ‘Is that what you want, Markus, my friend?’ he asked the other man, who sat mutely at Thóra’s side.
Markus squirmed uneasily in his chair. In front of him sat the authority figure of his youth, who remembered him stealing vegetables from people’s gardens, or whatever it was that the old police officer had mentioned at the start of their conversation. ‘I haven’t done anything,’ he muttered, glancing sideways at Thóra. ‘Is there really any reason why we have to go through all this official stuff?’
Thóra drew a deep breath.‘Markus, my friend,’ she said calmly, hoping that the words would have the same effect on him as when the inspector had used them. ‘In the basement you asked for my help, and now I’m giving it to you. Come out into the corridor here with me for a moment, where we can speak privately. Afterwards you can decide what you want to do. In other words, you’ll be free to go home with Inspector Leifsson and let him question you at his kitchen table, in the presence of his wife and cat.’
‘My wife is dead,’ Gudni said coldly. ‘And I have a dog. No cat.’
Throughout all of this Hjortur had been waiting on the sidelines, quietly following the conversation. Now he finally spoke up, but what he said made Thóra think that he was the type who hated conflict, even as a silent observer. ‘Wouldn’t it be best for everyone if you two went off on your own for a bit? Then I can tell you about the things that concern me,’ he said, glancing hopefully at Gudni.‘It would really help me if we could do this quickly. If I don’t get back to my office soon my colleagues will think something has happened to me. They know that I was in the house that you’ve cordoned off, and they must have heard something’s going on there.’
Gudni stared at Hjortur without replying. These silences must be his secret weapon during interrogations, thought Thóra. Perhaps he hoped that people would start speaking, to fill the embarrassing pause. The archaeologist did not fall into his trap. There was a brief silence, then Gudni’s face broke into a chilly smile and he said:‘Fine. I don’t want your colleagues pulling out their pens and writing obituaries about you, my dear Hjortur.’ He looked from the blushing archaeologist to Thóra. ‘Suit yourselves. No one will disturb you in the corridor outside the office.’ He waved them to the door. ‘We’ll be here if you decide to honour us with your presence.’ As Thóra and Markus reached the door they heard him say to their backs: ‘But you’ll not be coming to dinner at my house.’
‘What are you thinking?’ muttered Thóra through gritted teeth, once they were outside the office.‘You go there to fetch a severed head, and then think you can sit and chat with the police without having any idea of your legal position. Do you realize how much trouble you could end up in?’
Markus looked angry for a second, then his anger gave way to resignation. ‘You don’t know how things work here. This man is the law in the Islands. Him alone. There might be other policemen, but he’s the one who calls the shots. He often settles cases without making any trouble for those involved. I think it would be best for me to just talk to him, and after he’s heard what I have to say he’ll make things easier. Especially since I didn’t do anything wrong.’
Thóra wanted to stamp her foot in frustration, but she clenched her fists and settled for knocking lightly on the wall for emphasis. ‘This case will soon be taken out of Gudni’s hands. Corpses and severed heads aren’t a matter for small police departments, no matter how powerful particular officers may be in their own jurisdictions. He might be able to solve cases his way when they concern stolen rhubarb, but this is another matter entirely. It’s my understanding that in the light of the seriousness of this case, and because of the unusual circumstances, it won’t go to the Criminal Investigation Department in Selfoss, which usually handles such cases here in the Islands. It’ll go straight to the Reykjavik police and their Crime Lab, and you can be sure that they won’t conduct themselves like Gudni. So it’s all the same to me what you do, but it’ll work out much better for you if things are done in the proper way. When you’re being questioned informally, he can use everything that you say in court. And to make matters worse, Hjortur would be able to confirm everything that you said. It’s completely crazy.’
‘But didn’t he say that the Criminal Investigation Department had shut up shop here in the Islands?’asked Markus, who to Thóra’s relief finally appeared to be showing some concern.
‘The Westmann Islands are not outside the jurisdiction of the CID and the Crime Lab, even though they no longer have offices here. The detectives will simply hop on an aeroplane and start snooping around.’
‘I see,’ Markus said softly.
Thóra sighed. She couldn’t help but feel for this man, who was so unlike her. It seemed as though all the stubbornness, short temper and rudeness he had previously displayed were now gone. He had clearly been badly shocked by what he’d found in the basement, and she believed him completely when he said that was the first time he’d seen the bodies, and even the severed head that he’d gone to fetch. Thóra had had no time to ask him about this strange paradox in the commotion that had arisen when they’d come up from the basement and told Hjortur to call the police. The sight of the bodiless head’s contorted face – which had almost looked as if it were sticking out its tongue – had made her feel so claustrophobic that it had been out of the question to speak to Markus down there. ‘How about you tell me why you were so eager to get to the basement to fetch a head that you say you didn’t even know was there? I’ve tried to come up with an explanation for it, but I have to admit defeat.’ She paused for a moment and looked Markus in the eye.‘After I’ve heard your version of the story we’ll wait here quietly for Hjortur to come out, then we’ll go in and let Gudni decide whether he wants to question you formally or leave it to whoever takes over the case.’
‘Fine,’ replied Markus, taking a deep breath. ‘You’re probably right.’
Thóra was pleased with his change of heart, but wasn’t certain it would last. ‘You have to understand that if you say something to him and I interrupt you, you keep quiet and let me do the talking. The same goes if I advise you not to answer a particular question.’
‘Okay,’ said Markus.‘You’re the boss.’ He smiled ruefully at her. ‘Where were you when the big rhubarb case came up? They made me pull up chickweed in the school garden every night for a month.’
Thóra smiled back and looked around to make sure that none of Gudni’s subordinates were listening in. ‘So, tell me about the head that you went to collect without knowing anything about it.’
Gudni leaned back in his chair and took the last page out of a battered electric typewriter. He placed it carefully face down on the other pages that had been piled there, then lifted them and shuffled the stack into order. He put the pages on the table so that Thóra and Markus could read them. ‘Just as the law prescribes. Read these through, then I would be very happy if you could verify your statement with your signature, Markus, so that all the formal details are in order and your lawyer can breathe easier.’
Thóra flashed him a pro forma smile. She couldn’t care less if he were dissatisfied with the procedures, as long as the interests of her client were guaranteed. In the end, everything had gone quite well for her. Markus had been questioned as a suspect, but that was to be expected considering the circumstances. The main point was that he hadn’t got himself into any more trouble by saying too much too soon. Thóra jerked her chin in the direction of the report.‘Doesn’t it match what was stated? You haven’t added anything, have you?’ she asked, enjoying a small moment of revenge.