‘Shouldn’t we talk after the festival?’ said Leifur, who seemed to have sobered up in an instant.‘I understand there’s a lot on your mind, but now is neither the time nor the place.’
‘No, Leifur,’ replied the old woman. ‘You don’t get to decide now. I have something to tell you and I doubt you’ll be in much of a festive mood afterwards.’
‘I’ll get back into a festive mood as soon as you clear off,’ mumbled Maria. ‘What’s all this about, anyway?’ She was clearly not used to people speaking down to her husband. Leifur grabbed her by the shoulder and she stopped talking.
‘I was in Reykjavik today, visiting a poor, sick girl,’ said the old woman. ‘My great-granddaughter,’ she added proudly. ‘I listened to her, and I was the first adult to do that in a long time.’
Thóra was so unnerved by the atmosphere in the tent that she instinctively moved the pushchair closer to Sóley, who was yawning on one of the sofas. ‘What did she say?’ she asked, when no one else seemed willing to say anything.
The old woman glared at Hjalti. ‘Where were you when my Alda was murdered?’ She spat out the final word.
Thóra tried unsuccessfully to understand what she was seeing. Markus’s son stood gaping at the woman, then grabbed his father’s upper arm, a look of terror on his face.‘What does that matter?’ asked Markus, his face bright red.‘Are you suggesting that my son had something to do with Alda’s death?’
‘Yes, Markus, I am,’ replied the woman, as if she were speaking to a child. ‘Hjalti was seen going into Alda’s house while she was still alive, thencoming out again after she was dead. He and his car were seen there – though he was careful to park it some distance from her house.’
‘What rubbish,’ said Markus, putting an arm around his son’s shoulders. The boy appeared completely bewildered. ‘I should remind you that such testimony isn’t admissible. Just recently a witness said he’d seen me go past Alda’s house, or into it. His testimony was so vague that he couldn’t even remember whether I was coming or going when he supposedly saw me.’
‘We’ve got more than just a witness,’ said the old woman. She stared fiercely at Hjalti. ‘I should kill you, boy. It’s what you deserve. I’ve sat at home and thought about what would be the best way to do it. I’d make sure you’d endure the same agony you put my daughter through, but I’m too old.’
‘I think that’s quite enough,’ interrupted Thóra. Until now she’d been too surprised to intervene, and everyone else appeared to be struck dumb.‘Wouldn’t it be best for you to speak to the police if you think you have information about this crime? This is not the proper place for it.’
‘I’ve already done that,’said the old woman, with a thin smile. ‘Gudni is on his way. At first he wanted to wait until tomorrow, but he soon changed his mind when he heard what I knew.’
‘What do you know?’ shrieked Hjalti. ‘You can’t know anything.’
‘You should clean out your car better,’ said the old woman, still glaring at him murderously.
The boy flinched. ‘What do you mean, my car?’ he asked.
‘You opened your car door as you were leaving, and a credit card receipt blew out. It got caught in a bush and the girl who was watching you went and got it. I had Jóhanna look on the bank system to see who the card belonged to.’
Hjalti moaned something and his father tried to calm him down. ‘Don’t worry about this, this is bullshit.’
‘Do something, Leifur,’ pleaded Maria tremulously. ‘You can’t let her stand here and say these things.’
‘I’ll pay you well for that receipt,’ said Leifur levelly. ‘Neither you or your daughter would ever need to worry about money again.’
Thóra was about to protest, but Alda’s mother cut in: ‘What makes you think I’d want your dirty money? Not everything can be bought. The receipt is not for sale.’
‘Give me the receipt, or I promise you’ll regret it,’ hissed Markus, advancing towards her. He had trouble pushing between the sofa and the dining table, not least because his son was still hanging off him. The boy appeared to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Orri had slept soundly throughout, but Sóley was taking everything in, wide-eyed.
‘I couldn’t give you the receipt even if I wanted to,’ said the old woman happily. ‘I’ve handed it over to the police.’
Markus’s son started whining over and over again: Dad, Dad, you’ve got to help me, Dad, Dad. Markus stared desperately at Alda’s mother. Thóra felt terribly sorry for him; it was perfectly clear that he loved his son, but he had also loved Alda. He was truly stuck between a rock and a hard place.
The tent flaps swung open again. This time Gudni stood in the doorway, along with another police officer.‘Hello,’ he said to the group, but he was looking at Hjalti.‘Hjalti Markusson,’ he said calmly, ‘will you come with us?’
The boy continued to whimper the same words as he held onto his father. Markus looked down at him, seemed about to say something, but then loosened the boy’s grip on his arm. ‘My son didn’t kill Alda, Gudni,’ he said. ‘I did.’
Thóra groaned. What now? Did Markus think he could take the blame for his son, as his father had done for Dadi years ago? She wouldn’t be surprised if he were hoping for an eruption that very night.
Chapter Thirty-eight
‘I didn’t plan for her to die the way she did. She threw up the drugs, so they didn’t work. I didn’t have much time and I had to take desperate measures. It was supposed to look like suicide, and I hoped the Botox in her tongue wouldn’t be discovered. I left it on her bedside table as a back-up – if the drug was found in her body, people might well believe Alda had decided to kill herself that way. Her fingerprints were on the bottle and the syringe. Of course I made sure I wore gloves.’
in other words, you went to her house with the sole intention of ending her life?‘ asked Gudni deliberately.
‘Yes, I did. I had no choice. I had already tried other things. It was her own fault. Of course I was disappointed when the Botox didn’t work, but I had to do something. I just wanted to paralyze her tongue. One always hears of people choking on their own vomit. It was supposed to look like that. She was still retching. I knew about the Botox at her house, because she’d got me to try it a few months before. I came that night under the pretence of wanting more. She injected me before I… you know.’
Thóra closed her eyes. Would this never end? She leaned out to get a view of the corridor, where Orri was asleep in the pushchair and Sóley was sitting playing cards with the police officer assigned to take care of her during the interrogation. Soon Sóley would be too tired to keep playing, and Thóra had decided to leave at that point, no matter what. She had had enough, and the man at her side appeared not to need legal protection. He had decided to confess everything, which meant that there was little use for her. No lawyer could help him now.
There did not appear to have been any mitigating circumstances. Thóra was feeling a little overwhelmed by it all; she felt as though she’d been betrayed and made a fool of. What she wanted most was to drop the case, but her conscience wouldn’t let her. Gudni did not appear to feel any better. He had also been deceived, and very publicly. The murderer seemed to have played everyone, except perhaps Detective Stefán. But now the day of reckoning had arrived.‘Markus, could you wind this story up?’ said Thóra, not looking at him. ‘I have to go soon.’ She was still stunned at how easily he had manipulated her.
‘Yes, let’s tie this up,’said Gudni. ‘Did the estate agent lie for you? Did you pay him to say he’d recognized your voice on the phone?’