‘Not everyone becomes infected, but the man will certainly have to undergo the same sort of examination as us. If it’s the young man who came with us in the helicopter, he’s not ill, any more than we are. Those who were infected became ill very quickly, so he should be safe. The infected were at death’s door after twenty-four hours, which may be one of the things that pointed the investigators towards this particular disease. The drillers didn’t lie on their sickbeds for long.’
‘And we were made to sit with him in the helicopter?’ Friðrikka’s voice had risen to a shrill high C again. ‘We breathed the same air as him for almost an hour, didn’t we? Who knows, maybe we were infected then, which is why we haven’t become ill yet!’
‘We shouldn’t worry unnecessarily. We’re still asymptomatic, and we’ll probably remain that way,’ said Finnbogi determinedly. ‘I think we should talk about something more interesting and constructive; we’re not going to change anything with foolish speculation.’
The group fell silent and remained that way as it tried to come up with another topic of conversation. ‘Why do you think that guy killed Oddný Hildur? Is he completely mental, or do you think he raped her or something?’ Eyjólfur got top marks for changing the subject, but a fail for the subject matter.
‘She wasn’t raped.’ Friðrikka was nearly foaming at the mouth.
Eyjólfur turned to her, just as angry. ‘I wasn’t talking to you. What would you know about it?’
‘Women aren’t raped through their clothes. Her body was fully dressed, in case you managed to miss it.’ Friðrikka was beginning to shout.
The Danish doctor turned round and raised his eyebrows, and Thóra cut them both off brusquely. She couldn’t bear to think of the group being broken up and each of them shut in a separate room. Although the company wasn’t at its most entertaining right then, time did pass faster when something was happening besides them all staring out at the ice-bound bay below the town, no matter how beautiful it was. ‘Settle down. We don’t know Naruana killed Oddný Hildur. Maybe it was someone completely different. Stop yelling at each other and try to discuss something constructive instead.’
Thóra’s words calmed Friðrikka and Eyjólfur down a bit but they still couldn’t think of anything else to talk about. ‘Who could have killed her if not one of the villagers? One of the employees at the camp?’ asked Alvar. He had stood up and was now watching the final blood test, which was being carried out on Bella.
‘It was someone from the village.’ Friðrikka made this assertion like a stubborn child. ‘Anything else is out of the question. None of us would have wanted to do her harm, even if she did complain to the boss.’
Eyjólfur ignored her. ‘Maybe it was an outsider, but not someone from the village. Tourists who wandered into the area. A hiker, one of those fresh air freaks.’
‘Excuse me, but I doubt this woman was killed by a “fresh air freak”.’ Thóra couldn’t help but smile at his description.
‘Why not? The weather was bad and visibility was poor; maybe he thought she was a polar bear. She was wearing Arnar’s furry boots and hat.’ Eyjólfur appeared determined to convince himself of his own hypothesis.
‘Yes, that could be it,’ blurted out Friðrikka, in agreement with Eyjólfur for the first time. ‘The murderer will probably never be found, but that’s a possible explanation. She could very well have looked like some kind of animal.’
‘That explains it.’ Eyjólfur surveyed the group smugly.
‘No, come on, stop that.’ Alvar clearly didn’t appreciate the silence, or perhaps he thought it his duty to defend hikers. ‘She was attacked from behind, and people don’t try to sneak up on polar bears from behind. Nor are fresh air freaks, as you call them, prone to wandering about in a whiteout. They dig themselves down into the snow and wait for the storm to subside. They’d be even less inclined to start attacking polar bears under such circumstances.’
‘Does anyone know why she was dressed like that?’ Thóra hadn’t had time to ponder this point.
‘The weather was good that day and stayed that way into the early evening. Wouldn’t she have been wrapped up well enough when she went over to the office? Maybe she needed something a little more protective. Arnar would hardly have made a big deal out of her borrowing some of his clothing.’ Eyjólfur looked sad. ‘Just think – if only she hadn’t been wearing someone else’s clothes she would never have been mistaken for a polar bear. Those were the only garments on site that would have made her look like an animal.’
Thóra bit her tongue, wondering if his dramatics were going to extend to singing a sad song in Oddný Hildur’s memory. She allowed Alvar and Eyjólfur to continue debating the merits of the polar bear theory while she tried to get her thoughts in order. ‘Isn’t it more logical to assume that whoever came at Oddný Hildur from behind during the snowstorm actually thought she was Arnar?’ Friðrikka, Alvar and Eyjólfur stopped arguing and looked in surprise at Thóra.
‘What do you mean?’ said Eyjólfur stupidly, but then quickly added: ‘You mean the man intended to kill Arnar?’
‘Yes. Isn’t that more likely than your theory about the polar bear? Arnar wasn’t short of enemies, and his popularity hardly increased when management were informed about the harassment.’
Alvar was quick to agree to this.
Eyjólfur frowned. ‘I don’t know. He wasn’t so awful that people would have thought about killing him.’ He looked awkwardly at Friðrikka in the hope of support. ‘Right? It wasn’t like that, was it?’
Friðrikka looked from him to her lap. ‘No. Definitely not.’ She abruptly fell silent. It was as if all the air had gone out of her.
Thóra moved over next to Matthew and waited for him to finish speaking to the Danish doctor, who was packing up his things. ‘Do you still have the phone number for Oqqapia, Naruana’s partner? I need to have a word with her.’ Matthew found the slip of paper with the number on it, and Thóra stuck it in her pocket. While doing so she felt to make sure she had her mobile phone. Once she was certain she did, she asked the doctor whether she could go to the ladies’.
A young police officer followed her out into the corridor and informed her along the way that the toilet would need to be disinfected thoroughly after they left. Thóra thanked him for the information and shut the door behind her. She dialled the number and prayed silently that the woman was home. She was relieved when she heard her voice. ‘Hi, Oqqapia, this is Thóra from Iceland. I visited you a short time ago with my friend, whose name is Matthew.’
Oqqapia said she remembered her well. It sounded to Thóra as if she were completely sober. She seemed to be in a state of shock as she told Thóra the whole story of how Naruana had been arrested, and said that a group of men had come to the village to tell them that they’d possibly been infected with a serious disease. They were to remain in their homes while the investigators examined them, house by house. Thóra could hear clearly that she was frightened; the men had been wearing masks and strange outfits. It hadn’t crossed Thóra’s mind that perhaps all of the villagers had been infected by the hunter’s son. ‘Oqqapia, I’ve got to ask you to do me a favour that will probably help Naruana, and could even save his father as well.’
‘Anything. I know Naruana hasn’t killed anyone. He’s even stopped hunting.’
‘You’ve got to find Igimaq and ask him something for me. I suspect he has information that could help Naruana avoid a longer prison sentence than he deserves.’ She was met only with silence. ‘Oqqapia, this is extremely important. I’m not sure that Igimaq will tell the police anything – if they even find him. He’s much more likely to talk to you, and if you explain things to him then maybe he can be persuaded to speak to them later.’
Oqqapia spoke up hesitantly. ‘He doesn’t want to talk to me. I’ve never met him but I’m quite sure he isn’t happy with me as a daughter-in-law.’