No news came that day, and Hogni, who also used to pass by in the afternoon for a cup of coffee, didn’t show. They had coffee ready in the flask and had saved a bit of the cookies, which Ingibjorg of Bakki had sent over to them on Whitsunday. They hadn’t spotted the district officer going out to sea that day, so the teacher was probably at home. He was bound to pop over to them.
Hallbjorg sat by the kitchen window and peered through the rain falling against the glass. She wanted to be able to see guests when they appeared in front of the house and to be ready to open the door. Contrary to their habits, they had locked the front door. Over the past two days, they had heard many stories about that terrible man from Reykjavik, who had been loitering around like the village drunk and causing trouble everywhere. The two women had, therefore, not dared to leave the house unlocked. But they were somehow restless. Even though they wouldn’t admit it to each other, they were quite eager to hear the latest gossip about this troublemaker.
Hallbjorg finished knitting the woolen sock and cast on the new one, but she glanced out the window at regular intervals. Gudrun had put down her knitting and picked up an old copy of Morgunbladid. She read out the serialized novel, A Life by Guy de Maupassant, part 15. This was their routine. One of them would read out loud while the other continued with her work. It enabled them to use their time more efficiently. But more often than not it was Gudrun who did the reading, because she had better eyesight for it and Hallbjorg got hoarse if she spoke at length.
Finally Hallbjorg became aware of some movement outside the house and saw through the window that the goodwife from Svalbardi was on her way up the steps to them and seemed to be in a hurry. Hallbjorg stiffly hoisted herself to her feet to unlock the door.
Question twenty-three: No horse could carry him. Fourth letter. Rognvald married Ragnhild, the daughter of Hrolf Nose. Their son was Hrolf, who conquered Normandy. He was so enormous that no horse could carry him. He was dubbed Hrolf Walker, or Ganger Hrolf. It is from him that the Norman earls and English kings descended. The answer is “Hrolf Walker,” and the fourth letter is l.
Kjartan said, “The guest’s answer to this was ‘Ganger Hrolf,’ and the letter is g.”
CHAPTER 40
Asmundur, the storekeeper, was on tenterhooks. As soon as he had opened the store in the morning, he had heard news of a terrible mishap in the cemetery. He then contacted Thormodur Krakur, who told him that the reporter from Reykjavik had been found dead there, lying on a grave. Details of the story became clearer as the day progressed. And it was good for business. Islanders popped into the store several times in the day under the pretense of running errands, but above all to hear more news. And naturally they felt compelled to buy something to conceal their blatant curiosity. But no one dared to linger in the store for too long. Instead, they would come back again later and something else would be bought. Customers from the neighboring islands traveled over for the same reasons.
The story that was circulating went as follows: Bryngeir, the reporter from Reykjavik, had been found horrendously mutilated in the churchyard early in the morning. There were mixed opinions as to what had happened to him, and the district officer had banned all access to the cemetery and guarded the gate. Police from Reykjavik were expected to arrive to investigate the case any moment. The magistrate’s assistant had been spotted coming out of the churchyard and walking down to the school to Hogni. He had then gone home to Bakki and had not come out again. The doctor had been the first person to phone the crime squad in Reykjavik. Then the district officer had phoned several times. The priest offered to hold a prayer meeting in the school at four, since the church was now in the off-limits zone that was being guarded by the district officer.
Asmundur retold this story countless times as he served the customers, who bought all kinds of unnecessary goods during the course of the day.
Question twenty-four: The wooden man. Third letter. Earl Hakon invoked his guardian spirits, Thorgerd Altar-bride and her sister Irpa, to perform whatever sorcery was required in Iceland to kill Thorleifur. Hakon ordered the figure of a man to be made out of driftwood. Then a man was killed, and his heart was cut out to be placed inside the wooden figure. He was then dressed and given the name of Thorgard. They endowed it with such devilish powers that it could walk and talk with men. He was dispatched on a ship to Iceland and arrived when people were assembling at the Althing. One day Thorleifur stepped out of his booth and saw a man crossing the Oxara river from the west. Thorleifur asked the man for his name. He answered that his name was Thorgard, and at the same moment he thrust the halberd at him and through his middle. As Thorleifur was hit, he struck back at Thorgard, who vanished into the earth so that only the soles of his feet could be seen. Thorleifur wrapped his tunic around himself and walked back to his booth. He told people what had happened, and when he threw off his tunic, his guts spilled out. He died there with a good reputation. The answer is “Thorgard,” and the third letter is o.
CHAPTER 41
It was still raining at eleven when two detectives arrived in Flatey. They had left Reykjavik by car, shortly after Johanna had phoned the criminal investigation department in the capital and requested assistance on Grimur’s behalf. A coast guard ship that happened to be a short distance away in the West Fjords sailed to Stykkisholmur to meet them and then take them to Flatey. The ship was now moored to the new pier and looked gray, wet, and bleak in the evening twilight.
Grimur received the investigators on the pier, and the only other people there apart from him were Thormodur Krakur, holding his handcart and dressed in his black suit, and the three generations of men from Ystakot. Valdi had seen the ship approach from the south and went down to grab the ropes as usual. Kjartan, on the other hand, had asked to be relieved of any further participation in the investigation after the discovery in the churchyard, and said he was ill and had gone to bed.
The chief investigating officer greeted Grimur first. “I’m Thorolfur,” he said, before introducing his partner: “Lukas from forensics. He’ll be examining the scene and assisting me in the interrogations.”
Thorolfur was a vigorous and slim man in his early sixties. His white hair had started to thin slightly and was combed back. His weather-beaten and clean-shaven face was wrinkled, as if it had been exposed to too much sun. Lukas, on the other hand, was younger, probably in his thirties, short, and chubby, with thick lips and rugged skin that stretched over a broad face crowned with light brown hair.
Two men were on the deck of the coast guard ship, preparing it for the night at the pier. Figures could be glimpsed through the illuminated windows of the bridge.
The policemen were suitably dressed for walking in the rain, wearing good raincoats and rubber boots. They carried two heavy bags with them and an oblong box, similar to the casket they had used to transport Professor Lund to Reykjavik. The older policeman gratefully accepted Thormodur Krakur’s offer to carry their luggage in his cart.
They set off, Thormodur Krakur at the front with the cart and the others behind him. Grimur recounted the events of the past few days to the policemen and the little he knew of Bryngeir’s movements over the past twenty-four hours. Thorolfur asked how many people were on the island, including both locals and guests.