Lena appeared to be thinking hard. ‘No, not really. As I said, it was my mum and dad’s reaction that stressed me out, not really anything to do with Tryggvi. They were acting so weirdly and I thought it was probably because of him. But now I think I know why they were behaving like that and it has nothing to do with Tryggvi or the fire.’
‘Might I ask what it does have to do with?’ Thóra spoke quickly because the girls had started to gather up Lena’s things. Lena’s expression grew fierce but her anger wasn’t directed at Thóra.
‘Yes, of course you can ask, it doesn’t matter to me,’ she said, although her expression suggested otherwise. ‘Dad has a mistress. Or at least I think he does.’
‘Oh?’ Thóra certainly hadn’t expected this. ‘I’m sorry to hear that, but it’s hardly relevant to the case, as you rightly said.’ She added cautiously: ‘Is he seeing a former employee of the residence, or someone at the Regional Office for the Disabled?’
‘No. A woman at work. She’s called Begga, I think.’
So the woman whose formatting skills Einvarður missed was good at other things besides word processing. ‘How do you know this?’
Only now did Lena appear to pay attention to her girlfriends, but she answered Thóra nonetheless. ‘I came across them arguing about her and they started acting all sad when they saw me.’ She did her best to appear detached and unconcerned about her parents’ marital troubles. Her friends, wide-eyed and curious, had nearly reached the table where they were sitting. Lena stopped talking and her friends stood awkwardly next to them.
One of them said, ‘We didn’t know if you wanted this put in your folder, Lena, or just in the bag?’ She handed Thóra, who was between her and Lena, two sheets of paper stapled at the corner. It appeared to be an exam or some homework. On the front was a large red ‘9.7’, with a circle drawn around the score.
Thóra held the papers out to Lena. As she did so she caught sight of the girl’s full name. ‘Is your full name Helena?’ She’d been an idiot. The cryptic text message she’d received before really had been meant for her: how did Helena get burned as a child?
‘Yes, why?’ Lena took the papers from Thóra’s hand.
‘I thought your name was Lena; I didn’t realize it was a nickname.’
‘No, no, my name is Helena, but I’ve always been called Lena.’ She stood up and her friend handed her her coat. ‘I’ve got to go now, I hope that you… you know, what I was talking about before. They don’t need to hear about this… you understand.’ These friends clearly weren’t her closest confidantes.
‘Could you possibly give us two minutes?’ Thóra directed her words at the two other girls who left immediately, telling Lena they were going out for a cigarette. Thóra turned back to Lena. ‘Do you have any scars? I know it might sound like a ridiculous question but someone told me you’d been burned, is that right?’
Lena opened and shut her mouth like a dying fish on dry land.
‘What does that have to do with the case?’
‘Do you have any burn scars, Lena? It’s obvious what it has to do with the case.’
‘Who told you that? Whoever it was is a complete idiot. Okay, if you really want to know, I was burned on one leg.’ She lifted her trouser leg, revealing a shiny, whorled patch of skin that stretched up her calf and disappeared under the hem of the pulled-up fabric. Another customer’s eyes widened. Lena dropped the trouser leg down again irritably, unaware of his shock, although Thóra suspected that she wouldn’t have cared if she had seen him. ‘It happened when I was a kid, it’s not from starting the fire that night, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘What happened?’ asked Matthew calmly.
‘Tryggvi accidentally set some ornaments on fire one Christmas and I was too little and too stupid to get away when the fire spread.’ She turned angrily to Thóra. ‘Did you know that even Christmas ornaments can catch fire? I bet no one else who’s made that mistake is also suspected of having torched a community residence. But you can probably guess why I didn’t tell you about it. You would have jumped on Tryggvi even though he had nothing to do with the fire.’ She grabbed her bag and looked ready to storm out of the room, fire in her eyes. Thóra stood up quickly and took her by the shoulder.
‘Lena, trust me, the last thing we want is to free Jakob by pinning the guilt on another innocent person, alive or dead. Between you and me, I don’t believe that your brother did start this fire – in fact, I strongly suspect one of Margeir and Friðleifur’s night-time visitors. But I have to follow up on all leads, even though on closer inspection they might turn out to go nowhere.’
Lena breathed deeply, looking very relieved. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. ‘I understand. I’m just upset about this and about Mum and Dad. You touched a nerve. I hate my scar – I can never wear short dresses like other girls do and if I want to dress up it’s trousers or a long dress, which looks fucking lame. I do know it’s ridiculous to get so pissed off; I’ve seen enough serious injuries and disabilities to know that this is nothing.’
Thóra squeezed Lena’s shoulder gently before letting go. ‘Do you know how I can get in touch with Margeir? The police need to speak to him regarding at least two serious matters, and I’m hoping he can shed some light on the cause of the fire at the same time. I have a hunch that he knows who started it.’
‘I have no idea where he is. I used to run into him in town sometimes after the fire but I haven’t seen him out for months. Maybe he’s left the country. Otherwise, someone told me he had a radio show, but I don’t know if that’s true or whether it’s still going. I think it was on a talk-radio station that I never listen to.’
The police already had this information; she recalled them describing him as a radio host in their first enquiry. ‘I believe he did. OK, if you see him or hear from him, I advise you to behave as if everything is normal and then get away from him as quickly as possible. And you should inform the police about it immediately afterwards.’
Lena frowned. ‘Why are the police looking for him?’
‘I promise to tell you once the police have completed their preliminary investigation. For now I don’t want to connect him to a case that might not have anything to do with him at all.’ Despite saying this, Thóra was convinced that Margeir had ties both to the death of the man at Nauthólsvík Beach and to the violence against Lísa and Ragna. Maybe he wasn’t the perpetrator, but he probably knew considerably more about these things than many others.
During the news that same evening, Thóra’s mobile phone beeped. She grabbed it and saw that once again she’d received a message via ja.is. Instead of reading it immediately she called directory enquiries, requested the number at Sogn and then asked to be connected. Her call was answered on the fourth ring. Thóra asked the staff member to tell Jósteinn that she’d received his message. If he was uncertain about where Jósteinn might be, she considered it more than likely that he’d find him in the computer workshop. Then she hung up without giving the man an opportunity to ask any further questions about this peculiar errand. Thóra was pleased with herself, although her mother gave her a strange look, obviously feeling that she’d dealt rather rudely with a public institution. She read the message.
Vesturlandsvegur Road, 8 December 2007
CHAPTER 34
Thursday, 21 January 2010