‘It wasn’t blackmail. It’s called a trade-off.’ But the news of the upgrade had brought out the best in Bella and she sat down again, her face shining. No doubt she was daydreaming about how fast she could now jump in with last-minute bids on eBay. ‘Well, according to this girl, Aldís wasn’t exactly the sociable type. She was a bit of a snob, but all right really – she just had dreams of being rich and famous, though mainly rich.’
‘Famous for what?’
Bella gave Thóra a pitying look. ‘Where have you been? You don’t have to be famous for anything these days. She just wanted to be a rich celebrity. But her plans were going badly, so she was getting a bit pissed off. Her mate thought things would change for the better when she started working for Karítas, but no such luck. She said she couldn’t understand why on earth Aldís stayed on if she was so fed up.’
‘Was the pay bad?’
‘The friend didn’t say, so maybe she didn’t know.’
‘Why was she so fed up then?’ Aldís sounded to Thóra like one of those girls who become an au pair, dreaming of foreign travel, only to discover that washing dishes in another country is just as boring as it is in Iceland.
‘If I understood her right, Aldís was totally hacked off with running around after Karítas. And with Karítas herself, as well.’
‘So she couldn’t stand her?’
Bella rolled her eyes. ‘Duh… what do you think? Aldís was always slagging her off. The friend said Aldís was forever ringing her to let off steam. She couldn’t talk to any of the other staff in case it got back to her boss. They weren’t especially close but the friend felt sorry for her because she seemed so disappointed. I bet she thought she’d be allowed to go to the parties and join in all the fun, but that was way off the mark.’
Thóra understood. She had been to drinks receptions at offices and ministries where the young waiting staff had forgotten their place and started mingling with the guests. That could only happen in a society where everyone was equal, at least in theory. In countries with deeper class divisions the picture was probably very different, as poor Aldís seemed to have learnt the hard way. ‘So she was at best a PA, or at worst some kind of maid?’
‘Yes. I gather that’s what she was paid for. And it sounds like she found it hard to swallow.’
‘Did she mention anything to this friend about wanting to resign?’
‘I didn’t ask. But I did discover that her mate hasn’t heard from her for weeks, which is much longer than usual.’ Bella fiddled with the ring on her finger, which was so huge that it resembled a piece of armour. ‘Do you reckon she was mixed up in this case? Maybe even bumped off Karítas?’ Her face radiated schadenfreude.
Thóra was disturbed by her gloating. ‘I doubt it, but it bothers me that we can’t get hold of either of them. It’s a bit too much of a coincidence and I’d like to know what’s going on.’ She opened the window. Fresh air flooded into the room and the splitting headache that had afflicted her since her visit to the yacht receded a little. ‘There’s a chance that finding out won’t help us at all, but it’s still frustrating not to know.’
Bella filled her lungs, as grateful as Thóra for the fresh air. ‘But you’re wondering if Aldís killed the people on board.’
Thóra’s headache returned with a vengeance and she felt a sudden longing to go home. ‘I’m not wondering anything of the sort. Just whether either or both of them could conceivably be linked to the disappearance. Not necessarily as the perpetrators. But indirectly.’
Bella went off in search of Bragi after being assured that he would arrange the upgrade, and Thóra was left massaging her temples in an attempt to relieve the pain. Perhaps Aldís had no connection to her employer’s alleged death. She called the dates to mind and worked out from the information provided by Karítas’s mother that her daughter could well have been in Lisbon when the crew arrived. She could have become involved in an altercation with one of the men when they refused to let her on board, perhaps, or because they were confiscating the yacht that she may still have regarded as rightfully hers. It was not difficult to imagine how a row like that could have got out of hand. But what then? Had Ægir, Lára and the twins inadvertently stumbled on the truth, maybe by catching the culprit or culprits in the act of throwing the body overboard at a safe distance from land? Could that have led to their being disposed of in the same way? However hard Thóra tried, she simply couldn’t picture this chain of events. Surely no one would go to such lengths?
Chapter 23
‘It’s unlikely to achieve anything but I propose we do it anyway.’ Even seriously sleep deprived, Thráinn still commanded respect. Ægir wondered for a moment what it would be like to be a captain with authority over everyone on board, like the dictator of a mini state.
‘There’s no other explanation. Let’s hunt down this maniac, then get the hell home.’ Halli was breathing fast and couldn’t disguise his relief that they had agreed to act on his suggestion of overpowering the stowaway. It was hardly surprising: as the prime suspect, he had the most to gain from their standing together. Either that or he would be left to confront them alone. However, their newfound solidarity depended on their finding the uninvited guest who Halli insisted must have thrown the body overboard and murdered Loftur. He steadfastly maintained his innocence and, like Thráinn, was very persuasive. Ægir could only hope that he himself sounded even more convincing about his own and Lára’s lack of involvement. He kept quiet about the fact that he had been awake for over an hour while his wife and daughters slept. Otherwise he would find himself in the same predicament as Halli – desperately trying to make Thráinn believe that it was not him.
‘How are we going to do this?’ Ægir shuddered at the thought of walking alone through the corridors, peering into every dark corner, with the risk that the murderer – whether it was Halli, Thráinn or the putative stowaway – might be lurking behind the nearest door. Ægir was inclined to believe that Halli was the guilty party but he could not entirely discount Thráinn since none of them were qualified to calculate Loftur’s time of death or ascertain exactly how he had met his end. Both Thráinn and Halli had been alone for most of the afternoon and there was no way of knowing which of them was telling the truth when they protested their innocence. Thráinn was calm, Halli on edge, and Ægir lacked the experience to determine which was the more normal behaviour for a blameless man. Perhaps there was no such thing as normality in a situation like this. He himself was still in shock from the sight of Loftur’s dead body and kept being assailed with the desire to break into hysterical laughter.
When they had reached the Jacuzzi, steam was rising from under its padded cover and all three had stood there at a loss for a moment until Thráinn decided to lift it off. Neither Ægir nor Halli had taken a step closer or offered the captain any help as he struggled with the heavy, slippery lid. And no one had said a word when it was finally removed and they were confronted by the sight of Loftur, submerged fully dressed in the hot water, his eyes and mouth wide open. Countless silvery bubbles clung to his hair like a tiara, rendering his death mask even more grotesque. It would be a while before Ægir could bear to enter a hot tub again after witnessing Loftur’s blank gaze. The memory of how the water had trickled from his nose and mouth after they heaved him out and rolled him over onto his back only made it worse. ‘I’m not sure I want to leave my family alone.’