‘There’s a recession, Bella, and pay rises aren’t on the agenda, not in this office or anywhere else in Iceland. Did you mean a pay cut, maybe? Then we can talk.’
‘Cigarettes have gone up, petrol has gone up, everything’s gone up, so now wages should go up.’ Her order of priorities was clear.
‘Sorry, Bella. I really am.’ Although there was little love lost between Thóra and her secretary, Bella’s feelings were understandable in light of the recent price increases, and when you added increased taxes into the equation her wages must have been stretched even further. ‘We’ve been hit by inflation too, so there’s no room to improve the terms of anyone’s contract – yours or ours.’
‘Then pay me cash in hand.’
Thóra was in no doubt that Bella was entirely serious. ‘I can’t; you know that.’
‘Why not? Then I can claim unemployment benefit and still work, which is like a pay rise, but you don’t have to pay it.’
‘It’s illegal, Bella, and the state needs the money to pay those who are actually unemployed. Think for once before you speak.’
‘All the state’s money goes to fuck knows where, so I don’t see why I can’t have some of it. It’s up to the people in this country to make a stand.’ Bella exploded in misplaced indignation. ‘So I’m going to leave early today. I’m going to protest, and I promise they’ll regret having made me angry. Arsehole politicians.’
Thóra frowned. She was quite sure that Bella would carry out her threat, and she hoped the riot police shields were sturdy enough. To her knowledge there were no demonstrations planned, but her secretary alone would doubtless be a match for pretty much anyone in that department. Especially now that there was nothing but instant coffee in the office. ‘You’re not going in your fleece with the company name on it.’ That would be a great photo on the front page of Morgunblaðið: Bella foaming at the mouth with their logo on her chest.
‘I will if I don’t get a pay rise.’
Thóra mentally kicked herself for having mentioned the fleece. Now Bella would definitely wear it. ‘I’ll discuss it with Bragi next week. This week’s bad for both of us. I can’t promise anything but it might be possible to compensate you in some other way. Maybe with a free quit-smoking course, or something that works out as the equivalent of a pay rise.’ She hurried out and closed the door behind her quickly, just in case something came flying at her from behind.
The weather was still fine even though it looked as if it wouldn’t hold for the rest of the day. It was a touch cooler than when Thóra had arrived that morning, and the dark clouds over Faxaflói Bay appeared to have edged nearer to land. Skólavörðustígur Street was still half asleep even though the shops had already opened and, surprisingly, there were some vacant parking spaces. At the end of the street Leifur Eiríksson continued his dispassionate observation of human life from high up on his plinth, and behind him towered the steeple of Hallgrímskirkja Cathedral. She had parked the car in a car park a short distance from the office when she’d arrived at work that morning, since it was unclear whether she’d have any more luck than before getting in touch with anyone. If she’d known she’d be leaving again so soon she would have parked in a space right outside, at a meter that the parking attendants monitored a bit too diligently for her to park there for very long. She enjoyed the short walk and in her mind she went over what she wanted to discuss with Glódís. She could have just spoken to her over the phone, but Glódís hadn’t wanted to do that, saying she was busy when Thóra reached her and suggesting that they meet. Since it was hit and miss whether the woman answered her phone calls, Thóra agreed to meet her. Glódís hadn’t mentioned the e-mails she hadn’t deigned to answer, and Thóra suspected that she’d only picked up the phone by mistake, without checking who it was. In any case, Thóra now had answers to both her questions courtesy of the developmental therapist, Linda: the name of Tryggvi’s therapist and the name of the surviving resident, Ragna Sölvadóttir. But Linda hadn’t known where Ragna was now, so it was important that Thóra extracted that information from Glódís.
Earlier that morning Thóra had called Sogn and spoken to the director about Jósteinn’s attack on Jakob. According to him, the matter was under internal review and decisions were still to be made concerning what measures should be taken. She got the sense that although the attack was serious, Jósteinn was a sick man; after all, he wasn’t at Sogn for nothing. Since the court had found him not criminally liable, the staff had few available options for correction; most likely they would increase the dosage of his medication and place him under stricter supervision, as well as temporarily depriving him of his privileges. The director admitted that these ‘privileges’ were pretty negligible, mainly consisting of allowing him a radio in his room. In other words, there was no axe hanging over Jósteinn’s head, and with his distorted sense of morality you could hardly expect him to repent, or even realize the consequences of his actions.
When Thóra mentioned her own theory about the reasons behind the attack, the man didn’t seem that surprised. Quite the opposite, in fact: he thought it was more than likely. The incident had confounded his staff, given Jósteinn’s supposed friendship with Jakob; none of them had been aware of the two men falling out. Jósteinn himself had revealed nothing, claiming memory loss, which was clearly a lie. The director had asked Thóra whether this meant the petition to reopen Jakob’s case would now be shelved, but she told him that was why she was calling, to determine whether Jósteinn still wished to pursue it. She also told him Jakob’s mother had yet to give a definitive answer about whether she and Jakob still wanted Jósteinn’s backing for the investigation – although Thóra was taking Grímheiður’s lack of response as a ‘yes’. The director offered to ask Jósteinn, since he couldn’t allow Thóra to speak to him on the phone; he was still being held in semi-isolation. He was anxious to explain to Thóra that this isolation was not like segregation in prison: Jósteinn’s daily life was completely unchanged, with the exception that he wasn’t allowed to interact with the other residents or to receive visitors. Thóra accepted his offer with thanks and half an hour later the man called back and reported that Jósteinn definitely wanted to continue the investigation. He had actually seemed alarmed, for the first time since the attack, at the idea that the investigation might be brought to a close.
Afterwards Thóra had contacted Grímheiður and spoken to her for far longer than necessary. This wasn’t Thóra’s choice, but the older woman seemed desperate to share the rationale behind every aspect of her decision; and as she admitted to Thóra, she tended to get confused by her own thoughts, which seemed to move in endless circles instead of lining up neatly. It was different when she talked; speaking required her thoughts to be channelled in a particular direction, making it more likely that they would lead to a specific conclusion. Thóra let her ramble, as clearly this was what she needed to do to get things straight. She had long since lost count of the ‘yes’es and ‘no’s that she’d added to the conversation by the time the woman finally came to a conclusion: it would be best for Jakob if they kept the investigation going, even though accepting Jósteinn’s help went against all her instincts. When the call ended, it turned out to have been worth every minute; a conclusion had been reached – the right one, in Thóra’s opinion. Her other calls were unsuccessful; Ari wasn’t answering the phone, and her random calls to some of the former employees on Glódís’s list had been fruitless. People’s phones were either turned off or they didn’t answer.