Thóra would have given a great deal to see her own dumbfounded expression in a mirror. ‘I don’t know what to say. Nothing I’ve discovered has suggested anything like this.’ She longed for some sensible, concrete information. ‘Do you know when Halldór died?’
The detective shook his head again. ‘I’m afraid not. Most if not all of the methods used to establish time of death take account of conditions after the person has died. In this case the body seems to have been stored in a variety of environments, so we don’t have much to go on. It’s been submerged in the sea, kept in a freezer and maybe in a crate as well, so unfortunately the time of death is very imprecise. He could have died at any point on the voyage, though it’s obvious he can’t have been murdered after the yacht reached harbour. The postmortem showed too advanced a breakdown of various biological compounds that I’m not qualified to explain. So it can’t have been submerged there for long, at least not while the yacht was moving, or it would have been in a much worse state. In fact, it would be a miracle if it had still been there when the yacht reached the harbour.’
‘I’m afraid this is outside my area of expertise.’ Thóra was boiling by now and experiencing a desperate desire to fling off her coat.
‘Of course.’ He studied her as she sat there, her face scarlet, dreaming of the cold air outside. ‘Well. That just about wraps up what I have to say, so now I can get on with reprimanding the officers who conducted the original inspection. I try to do so at least once a day.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘It beggars belief that not one of them noticed the rope or realised it didn’t belong there. Of course, they should have taken along an experienced sailor or at least someone who was remotely acquainted with boats, but I don’t tell them that because I enjoy giving them a bollocking. It’s good for the circulation.’ He stood up and escorted Thóra to the door.
She drove up Skólavördustígur in a daze, then went into her office and sat there for a while deep in thought. Eventually, she leant over her desk and shouted: ‘Bella! Could you pop in here a minute?’ It was time to abandon all conventional approaches. Since common sense had proved nothing but a hindrance in this case, it was time for some muddled, left-field thinking, and when it came to that Bella was an expert.
Chapter 20
Mother and daughters were deep in slumber in the big double bed. They lay cuddled up together, their hair mingling on the pillows so that Ægir couldn’t tell their locks apart. Their cheeks were flushed, not from fever but almost certainly because someone had finally turned up the heating to compensate for the onset of chillier weather. Ægir had no idea who had done so and, to be honest, he didn’t really care. Beside him lay his family, the only thing that mattered. Arna murmured but he couldn’t distinguish the words. Her eyes were quivering under their pale lids and her legs twitched. Then all was quiet again. He hoped she wasn’t having a nightmare. He and Lára had done their best to behave as if nothing was wrong, masking their fear and apprehension, but perhaps their manner had seemed too forced. Neither could bear the thought that the girls might sense the sudden seriousness of their situation. At least not yet. Soon, though, they would be forced to tell them exactly what was going on, to ensure the girls never left their side.
Ægir listened to the sound of footsteps overhead. He stared up at the ceiling as if he expected the man to start sawing through it at any minute, showering them with plaster. Although the cabin door was locked, the security it provided was illusory as a full-grown man could easily force his way in. Besides, they must keep a master key somewhere safe; perhaps on the bridge. If the man wanted to get in, he wouldn’t need to break the door down. But Ægir was not worried about this eventuality; he didn’t believe the man had the slightest interest in them – for the moment.
More than seven hours had passed since he had dragged Lára and the girls down to the cabin where they had locked themselves in. In all that time no one had so much as knocked on the door or called out, as if the crew had forgotten their existence. Which suited them fine. Even though it would mean going hungry, Ægir was almost prepared to lie low in their cabin until they reached port. The water in the bathroom taps would be sufficient for him, but he was less sure about the girls; they probably wouldn’t be willing to go without food for days on end. Besides, he would have to put in an appearance at some point, not to appease his daughters’ complaints so much as to prevent the crew from wondering what was up. If they did, someone was bound to put two and two together and conclude that the family knew more than they were letting on. It would be pathetically easy for that person to finish them off here in the cabin, especially when they were defenceless in sleep.
The footsteps ceased and Ægir felt the adrenaline start to course through his veins. When the man stood still it was even worse than when he was pacing. It suggested that he was plotting. Ægir knew the idea was ludicrous but that didn’t change how he felt. He even held his breath while he waited for the man to start moving again. Nothing happened. Then there was a scraping sound from what he took to be a chair or sofa, and he tried to work out which room was directly overhead. Most likely the saloon, which suggested that there were two men up and about, one on the bridge, the other busy with something in the saloon. Ægir sat up and pushed the duvet aside gently so as not to wake his wife and daughters. It might make sense to go out and talk to the men; then the family wouldn’t have to show their faces again until lunchtime tomorrow. Their absence must appear as natural as possible; for example, he could go up at regular intervals to complain that the girls were seasick. That way he would be able to fetch the necessities – as long as he disciplined himself to appear relaxed, as if nothing had happened, as if it hadn’t occurred to them that one of the men must be linked to the dead woman in the freezer. Although such naivety would seem pretty far-fetched in the light of recent events, it would have to suffice. If he betrayed the slightest fear, there was a danger he would do or say something with irreversible consequences.
He climbed out of bed and balanced for a moment to accustom himself to the motion. About an hour after they had locked themselves in, the engines had abruptly kicked into life again. Perhaps the crew had managed to free the yacht from the container, or the captain had simply decided to chance it before the situation on board deteriorated even further. There was no question now of hanging around in the middle of nowhere, waiting for rescue: with their communications system crippled, they couldn’t even send out a distress signal, and it was so long since they had seen another ship that Ægir believed, admittedly without good grounds, that they might wait there for weeks without being spotted. Then he remembered the emergency button Thráinn had shown him, which was designed to transmit an SOS with their location. Thanks to that, their fate was unlikely to consist of drifting over the ocean for the rest of their days. Perhaps he should simply go up to the bridge and activate the button right now, and take the gamble that the foreign crew who responded to their call would believe him. But supposing they weren’t convinced and refused to take the family on board? In that case it would be better not to chance it. If things got any worse, at least there was security in knowing the button was there.
Ægir scribbled a quick note to Lára, explaining where he was going and stressing that neither she nor the girls should come looking for him. Then he slipped on his shoes and quietly left the cabin. As he was closing the door, he wondered if he ought to wake his wife. She and the girls had been sleeping for over two hours and might find it hard to drop off tonight if they slept for much longer now. Their eyelids had begun to droop during the second film and Ægir alone had managed to stay awake. He would have liked to have followed suit but felt compelled to stay on guard in case one of the crew tried to enter the cabin. How he was to make it through the night was another matter; clearly, he couldn’t stay awake for days on end and even if he did, he would be of little use exhausted if it came to a fight. Lára would have to share the watches with him, so it would be better to allow her some more sleep now. The incident with Karítas’s perfume bottle had shaken her badly. When she had gone to fetch it in order to convince him that the smell was the same as the one in the freezer, the bottle had gone. What’s more, it was nowhere to be found in their cabin or bathroom, and Lára had started imagining all kinds of conspiracies. Ægir, on the other hand, had signally failed to work up any concern. He had other, more pressing matters on his mind than missing perfume bottles. As he closed the door, he took care not to click the lock too loudly.