After her reading Thóra was little closer to discovering anything than she had been before, except for her feeling that the bodies might be connected to the Cod War in some very vague way. After all, to Thóra’s mind the word ‘war’ meant devastation and death.
She slammed the book shut and hurried to pack for her trip the next morning.
Chapter Seven
Thóra took her seat next to Bella in the plane. She thanked God that the flight would take only half an hour – she had a terrible fear of having to keep up a conversation with the girl in such close quarters. In the end Bella chattered the entire trip without pause, the gist of her monologue being her desire for Thóra to bring a lawsuit against the state for the ban on smoking in public places. Thóra smiled uncomfortably but didn’t dare interject. She even nodded non-committally when her secretary said that after smoking was prohibited in aeroplanes the majority of passengers had started to get sick after long-haul flights because the air on board was changed much less frequently. Instead of breathing smoke the passengers breathed germs and bacteria from people who came from all over the world and who therefore, according to Bella, could have the Ebola virus or bird flu. Thóra doubted that people who had contracted these diseases travelled much to the Westmann Islands, but nevertheless tried to breathe less than usual. When they landed she gulped down fresh air at the door of the plane and enjoyed the feeling of the warm breeze playing about her face. Bella hurried past Thóra and out of the airport to have a smoke.
‘Well,’ said Thóra as she dragged their suitcases over to Bella, who stood by the ash bin, enjoying her cigarette, ‘shouldn’t we try calling a cab?’ She looked around but there was no taxi to be seen. She felt worse when she saw that some of their fellow travellers appeared to be getting ready to walk into town. Maybe there weren’t any taxis in the Islands? Just as she was on the verge of going back into the airport to ask about this, a new Range Rover jeep pulled up. Thóra had recently been told how much these cars cost, but the figure was so high that she still thought it must have been a misunderstanding. The dark window-pane slid down into its slot and a middle-aged man stretched out through the open window and called to them.
‘Are you Thóra?’ he said, looking at Bella. His voice was deep.
‘No, that’s me,’Thóra called back quickly, rather displeased that her secretary should be mistaken for her. Although Thóra did not consider herselfa great beauty, the difference between their appearances and clothing was like night and day. Thóra always tried to dress smartly: in tasteful jeans and a sporty outdoor jacket that had cost far, far too much, while her secretary looked more as if she were on her way to the stage to act in a play about the Baader-Meinhof terrorist gang. To make matters worse, the girl’s make-up made her look like a vampire. Thóra stepped closer to the car.
‘Hello,’ said the man, and reached over to open the passenger door. ‘My name is Leifur, I’m Markus’s brother. He called me and said that you were on your way, so I thought I’d come and pick you up.’
‘Thanks,’ replied Thóra immediately. ‘My secretary is here with me, is that all right?’
‘Yes, of course,’ replied Leifur, as he stepped out of the car and put their suitcases in the back.‘You’re staying at Thórshamar Hotel, I expect?’ he said, after they’d all piled in.
‘Yes,’ replied Thóra, and she took the opportunity to examine the man better. She could see a distinct resemblance between the brothers, and thought they must both have been very handsome in their younger years. Leifur was slightly older than Markus, probably in his fifties. He carried his age well, like his brother, and had the air of someone who is used to being in charge and getting his own way. She wasn’t attracted to much older men, but she could see that the brothers were good-looking. Leifur’s smart clothing suggested he was a man who appreciated good quality, and this fitted with his choice of car, although Thóra knew that clothing did not tell the whole story. Bella, for example, was neither a terrorist nor a fat vampire, although people might be forgiven for thinking otherwise.
‘The hotel is in an excellent location,’ said Leifur as they drove off. ‘In the centre of town, not far from the harbour.’
‘That’s good to hear,’ said Thóra, and wondered what she should say next. She had no idea how much he knew about the case, and wanted to avoid telling him anything he didn’t already know. It wouldn’t look good if he started quoting her at police interrogations. She glanced around in search of something to talk about. ‘Great weather,’ she said, and then reproached herself for the cliche. ‘Is it always so nice here?’
Leifur turned towards her and smiled.‘Sure, I guess so.’
Much to Thóra’s regret, no lively discussion of the weather ensued. No one said anything for a few moments and she used the time to look around. There was little or no traffic on the roads, just like last time she had been here. The landscape was just as magnificent, and she was about to mention this when Leifur started speaking again, now less upbeat than before: ‘It’s terrible, this thing with the bodies,’ he said, glancing over at Thóra. ‘I presume it’s okay to talk about it in front of your secretary?’
‘Of course,’ said Thóra.‘Nonetheless, I’m unable to discuss details of the case with you. At least, details that you don’t know about already.’
‘No, I’m not going to try to get anything out of you,’ replied the man. ‘That’s not what I meant. I was just so shocked that they were found in our house. My family has enough to deal with right now.’
Thóra’s ears pricked up.‘Oh?’ She looked around the jeep and recalled how Markus also seemed to have quite enough to get by on. Financial concerns could hardly be overburdening the family.
‘Ah, well,’ replied Leifur, sounding dejected. ‘It’s a lot of little things combined with a few larger problems. Dad’s illness is the biggest.’
‘Yes, Markus told me about it,’said Thóra. She always found it difficult to speak to strangers about illness or death. ‘You have my sympathies. It’s a terrible disease.’
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘No, you needn’t worry about me. Markus told me his side of the story and I have to admit that although it might sound improbable, I trust him. It was a bit odd how he chased after Alda all those years ago. She stood head and shoulders above the rest of the girls in those days, but still. He would have done anything for her – actually, he did enough stupid things even without her.’
‘Yes, it’s all very peculiar,’ Thóra said. ‘I was hoping I could find something that would shed light on the subject while I’m here, but perhaps that’s unrealistic. Too much time has passed.’
‘Yes and no,’ musedLeifur. ‘The eruption, and the time that followed, are still fresh in the memories of those who experienced it. It was a terrible ordeal.’
‘I can only imagine,’ said Thóra. She pointed at the stone arch over the entrance to the cemetery.‘Isn’t this the gate that was in the famous photo?’ She was referring to a picture taken during the eruption. In it the cemetery was completely covered in ash and the only thing standing out from the pitch- black blanket was the arch, with the Biblical inscription I live and you will live. In the background a column of fire stretched up into the sky. It was a very stirring image, and the photographer had managed to tell an incredible story. ‘I didn’t realize the cemetery had been dug out.’
‘A lot of things were dug out of the ash after the eruption. For a while they were removing nearly ten thousand cubic metres of ash from the town every day. Landa Church was partly buried,’ said Leifur, pointing in the direction of the imposing but unostentatious chapel standing next to the cemetery. ‘A few houses were dug up, next to the ones where the current excavation is taking place.’ It was clear to Thóra that she had to learn more about the eruption if she didn’t want to waste all her time uncovering facts that were already common knowledge. She had brought the book Gylfi got from the library, and could start reading it in her hotel room that evening. Leifur continued: ‘I actually don’t know why the houses on our street weren’t uncovered then. I’m sure there was a logic to it, as with anything else. They’d doubtless been considered ruined, and quite rightly. I can’t imagine anyone bothering to try to make the ruins they’ve already dug up inhabitable again.’