He got back into bed with her. Karólína had suggested that she should play the role of the medium in their conspiracy. Baldvin was to encourage María to talk to a medium called Magdalena whom he had purportedly heard someone recommend. They knew María would make no enquiries. She was in no state to be suspicious of anything. She had blind faith in Baldvin.
She was almost too easy a prey.
Baldvin slept badly that night and, waking up before María in the morning, got out of bed and watched her sleep. She hadn’t slept so peacefully for weeks. He knew she would suffer a shock when she woke up and went into the living room. She had long given up sitting staring at the bookshelves, but he noticed that her gaze strayed to them many times a day. She had been waiting for a sign from Leonóra and now she would receive it. She would be too overwrought to suspect Baldvin. He doubted whether she even remembered telling him about the book. Now she would receive her confirmation.
He woke María gently before going into the kitchen. He heard her get up. It was a Saturday. Before long María appeared at the kitchen door.
‘Come here,’ she said. ‘Look what I’ve found!’
‘What?’ Baldvin asked.
‘She’s done it!’ María whispered. ‘The sign. Mum was going to choose that book. It’s lying on the floor. The book’s lying on the floor! She… she’s making contact.’
‘María…’
‘No, really.’
‘María… you shouldn’t…’
‘What?’
‘Did you find the book on the floor?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, of course, that’s…’
‘Look where it had opened,’ María said, leading him over to the book which was lying open on the floor.
She read the words of the verse aloud. He knew that it was by pure chance that the book had opened at that point when he put it on the floor.
‘The woods are black now,
yet still the sky is blue…’
‘Don’t you think it’s fitting?’ María said. ‘The woods are black now, yet still the sky is blue… That’s the message.’
‘María…’
‘She sent me a message just as she said she would. She sent the message.’
‘Of course it’s… It’s unbelievable. It’s what you had discussed and-’
‘Exactly like she said. It’s exactly what she said she’d do.’
Tears welled up in María’s eyes. Baldvin put his arms round her and led her to a chair. She was in a highly emotional state, wavering between sadness and joy, and in the following days she experienced more peace than she had for a long time; the sense of reconciliation that she had so long desired.
A week or so later Baldvin asked out of the blue:
‘Might it make sense to talk to a medium?’
Not long afterwards Karólína received María at the flat of a friend who was away in the Canary Islands. María had no idea that Baldvin and Karólína had studied drama together, let alone that they had been romantically involved. She and Karólína had never met before. María knew little about Baldvin’s friends from his years as a drama student.
Karólína had lit the incense, put on some soothing music and wrapped an old shawl around her shoulders. She was relishing the make-believe, had enjoyed making herself up with eyeshadow, pencilling on thick eyebrows, sharpening the lines of her face, adding a slash of scarlet lipstick. She had rehearsed on Baldvin who gave her various items of information that might come in useful during the demonstration of her psychic powers. Various facts from María’s childhood, some from her life with Baldvin, her close bond with her mother, Marcel Proust.
‘I sense you’re not happy,’ Karólína said once they were seated and her show of clairvoyance could begin. ‘You’ve… you’ve suffered, you’ve lost a great deal.’
‘My mother died recently,’ María said. ‘We were very close.’
‘And you miss her.’
‘Unbearably.’
Karólína had prepared herself with professional thoroughness by going to a medium for the first time in her life. She didn’t take much notice of what the medium said but attended carefully to his use of language, how he moved his hands, head and eyes, his breathing. She wondered if she should pretend to fall into a trance in María’s presence or emulate the medium she had visited and simply sit and sense things and ask questions. She had never met Leonóra but had been given a good description of her. Baldvin lent her a photograph that she studied in detail.
Karólína decided to give the trance a miss when it came to the point.
‘I sense a strong presence,’ she began.
As María and Baldvin lay in bed together that night, she reported to him in detail what had happened at the seance. Baldvin lay without speaking for a long time after María had finished her story.
‘Have I ever told you about a guy I knew when I was studying medicine? His name was Tryggvi?’ he asked, turning to look at María.
34
Baldvin avoided meeting Erlendur’s eye as the detective sat opposite him at the kitchen table, listening to his story. He looked either past Erlendur into the living room or down at the table or up at Erlendur’s shoulder, but never met his eye. His own eyes looked shifty and ashamed.
‘And in the end she pleaded with you to help her cross over,’ Erlendur said, the disgust plain in his voice.
‘She… she took the bait immediately,’ Baldvin said, lowering his gaze to the table top.
‘And so you were able to dispose of her without anyone realising.’
‘That was the idea, I admit it, but I couldn’t go through with it. When it came down to it, I didn’t have it in me.’
‘Didn’t have it in you!’ Erlendur burst out.
‘It’s true – I couldn’t take the final step.’
‘What happened?’
‘I…’
‘What did you do?’
‘She wanted to proceed cautiously. She was afraid of dying.’
‘Aren’t we all?’ Erlendur said.
They lay in bed until the early hours, discussing the possibility of stopping María’s heart for long enough to enable her to pass into the next world but not long enough to risk her suffering any harm. Baldvin told her about the experiment that he and his friends in medicine had performed on Tryggvi and how he had died but they had succeeded in bringing him back to life. He hadn’t felt anything, had no memories of his death, had seen no light or human figures. Baldvin said he knew how to manufacture a near-death experience without taking too great a risk. Of course, it wasn’t completely without danger, María should realise that, but she was physically fit and really had nothing to fear.
‘How will you bring me back to life?’ she asked.
‘Well, there are drugs,’ Baldvin said, ‘and then there’s the usual emergency first aid of heart compressions and artificial respiration. Or we could use electric shocks. A defibrillator. I’d have to get hold of one. If we do this we’ll have to be very careful that no one finds out. It’s not exactly legal. I could be struck off.’
‘Would we do it here?’
‘Actually, I was thinking of the holiday cottage,’ Baldvin said. ‘But it’s only a fantasy, anyway. It’s not as if we’re really going to do it.’
María was silent. He listened to her breathing. They were lying in the dark, talking in whispers.
‘I’d like to try it,’ María said.
‘No,’ Baldvin replied. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
‘But you were just saying it was no big deal.’
‘Yes – but it’s one thing to talk about it, another to do it, actually put it into practice.’
He tried not to sound too off-putting.
‘I want to do it,’ María said in a more determined voice. ‘Why at the cottage?’
‘No, María, stop thinking about it. I… it would be going too far. I don’t trust myself to do it.’