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Closing the exercise book, Erlendur replaced it on Elias’s bed and stood up. What had he wanted to be? A doctor, maybe. A bus driver. Or a cop. The possibilities were infinite, the world a new and exciting place. His life had barely begun.

He went back to join Sunee in the living room. Her brother was in the kitchen.

“Do you know what he wanted to be when he grew up?” Erlendur asked.

“Yes,” Sunee said. “He say often. Big word, I learn it.”

“What was it?”

“Palaeontologist.”

Erlendur smiled.

“It used to be a cop,” he said, “or a bus driver.”

On his way out he again asked the police officer on the staircase if he had been aware of any suspicious comings and goings on or near the landing but the answer was negative. He asked about the neighbour, Gestur, who lived in the flat opposite Sunee’s, but the officer had not been aware of him.

“No one’s had any reason to come up here,” the officer said, and Erlendur said goodbye and left.

Although it was fairly late by now, Erlendur still had one last visit to make. He had phoned the man that afternoon and arranged to go round to his house. The man answered the door promptly when Erlendur rang the bell, and invited him in. Erlendur had felt uneasy during his previous visit; he could not put his finger on the exact reason. It was something about the atmosphere, something about the owner of the house.

The man had been watching television but he switched it off and offered him coffee. Erlendur declined, looked at his watch and said he would not stay long. He did not apologise for the lateness of his visit. His gaze fell on a photo of the couple on the table. They were both smiling. They had gone to a photographer before the wedding reception and had their picture taken in all their finery. She was holding a small bouquet.

“Not very popular with your exes, are you?” Erlendur said. “I’ve been hearing what they have to say.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the man said.

Erlendur could see why women fell for him if they happened to like the type. He was a slim, neat man with a friendly face, dark hair, brown eyes, an attractive, olive complexion and elegant hands. He dressed with a good taste that was completely foreign to Erlendur. His home was furnished with handsome, trendy furniture, a magnificent kitchen and expensive flooring. Graphic prints decorated the walls. All that was lacking was the faintest sign that anyone actually lived there.

Erlendur wondered if he should tell him about the phone calls he had received, which were in all probability from his wife. The man had a right to know about them. If Erlendur’s suspicions were correct, his wife was alive and the news would surely bring him joy. Erlendur did not really know why he didn’t tell him everything. There was something ugly about this case that he could not quite fathom.

“No, of course,” Erlendur said. “One of them claimed you threatened to kill her.”

He said it matter-of-factly, as if remarking on the weather, but the man did not bat an eyelid. Perhaps he was expecting it.

“Silla’s not right in the head,” he said after a moment’s pause. “She never has been.”

“So you know the episode I’m referring to?”

“It’s just something you say, you’ve probably said it yourself some time. You don’t mean anything by it.”

“That’s not what she says.”

“Are you focusing your investigation on me now? You think I’ve done something to her? To my own wife?”

“I don’t kn—”

“She’s gone missing!” the man interrupted. “I didn’t touch her. It’s just a normal missing-person case!”

“I’ve never heard of a “normal missing-person case” before,” Erlendur said.

“You know perfectly well what I mean. Stop twisting everything I say.”

Erlendur did know what he meant. A normal missing-person case. He wondered if there was any other country in the world where they talked about “a normal missing-person case’. Perhaps history had taught the Icelanders not to make too much of a fuss when people went missing.

“There’s nothing normal about her disappearance,” Erlendur said.

He paused a moment. The case was heading in a direction from which there would be no turning back. From now on the nature of the inquiry would be different and more serious.

“Did you threaten to kill her?” Erlendur asked.

The man glared at him.

“Are you investigating it as a murder now?” he asked.

“Why did she leave home?”

“I’ve told you over and over again, I don’t have a clue what happened. I came home and she wasn’t here! That’s all I know. You have to believe me. I’ve done nothing to hurt her and I find it abhorrent that you should imply anything else!”

He took a step towards Erlendur.

“I mean it,” he said. “Abhorrent!”

“We have to examine all the possibilities,” Erlendur said. “You must understand that. We’ve carried out a very thorough search for her, combed the beaches, advertised in the papers and on television. She’s not going to come forward. She may be dead. When people disappear like this it’s generally a sign that they’re unhappy, so unhappy that they’re capable of doing something stupid. Was your wife unhappy? Why? Was it something you did to her? Did she reproach herself? Did she regret the whole thing? Did she regret the affair, the divorce, the marriage? Did she regret losing her children? Was the whole thing a fatal mistake?”

“You’ve been talking to her friends, haven’t you?” the man said.

Erlendur did not answer. Up to now he had spared the man the third degree, but the phone calls had changed that.

“They’re crazy!” the man continued. “I’ve never liked them. They’ve never liked me. What do you expect?”

“She was depressed,” Erlendur said. “She regretted losing her family and she believed you had started cheating on her.”

“Bullshit!”

“Found a new one, have you?”

“A new one? What are you talking about?”

“Had you started cheating on her?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“Her friends say she suspected there was another woman,” Erlendur said. “Is that true?”

“It’s all a pack of lies! There is no “other woman”.”

Erlendur vacillated a moment.

“Over the past couple of days I’ve been receiving phone calls from a woman who won’t reveal her name,” he said after a pause. “She’s distraught; she knows I’m handling the case but doesn’t trust herself to come forward. I don’t know whether that’s because she doesn’t dare or can’t. What she says doesn’t help much either because she’s always in such a state when she phones; she’s probably had to steel herself to make the call, but when it comes to the crunch she backs off and hangs up on me.”

“You mean it’s her?” the man asked, stunned. “She’s been in touch with you? Is … is she alive ? Is she all right?”

“If it is her,” Erlendur said, instantly regretting having mentioned the phone calls. He ought to have waited, waited until he had heard from the woman at least once more and persuaded her to meet him and tell him the truth.

“If?” the man said. “ If it’s her? You mean you’re not sure?”

“I’m as sure as I can be,” Erlendur said. “But that’s not saying much.”

“My God! What’s she thinking of? And what… what does she say? Why is she doing this?”

“Is this some sort of scam you two are cooking up?” Erlendur asked.

“Scam? No. Is that what she’s saying, that it’s a scam? Is that what she’s saying?”

“No,” Erlendur said, trying to damp the man’s eagerness. “As a matter of fact, she doesn’t say much. She …”