‘That goes without saying,’ said Konrád. ‘But your story’s hardly unique.’
‘No, naturally I wasn’t the only one.’
‘Did you ever see Frank again?’
‘No. Never.’
‘What did that woman mean about the huldufólk?’
‘I haven’t the faintest idea. But Thorson happened to mention to me that Rósamunda had worked as a seamstress and made beautiful dresses, so I put two and two together. I thought I’d better let him know and rang him. It turned out that the police were already aware she’d had an abortion but didn’t know who’d performed it.’
‘Was it the same woman?’
‘I expect so,’ said Ingiborg. ‘Though I never heard any more about it.’
23
The army jeep made easy work of the rough track leading up to the concrete farmhouse among the small hills east of the Ellidaár. Flóvent noticed that their jolting progress up the slope was being observed from a window by two inquisitive faces which vanished the moment the men stepped out of the car.
On the way there he had recounted the details of his visit to Vigga. Thorson was astonished to hear that there was another girl, in a distant part of the country, who might also have been raped and, like Rósamunda, had mentioned the hidden people.
‘Is that even possible?’ was Thorson’s first response.
‘Looks like it.’
‘There are two cases? Related cases in two different parts of the country?’
‘It’s conceivable,’ said Flóvent. ‘It’s hard to avoid the conclusion that the same man could have attacked them both.’
‘The link being the reference to the elves?’
‘Yes. Rósamunda learnt from Vigga that she wasn’t necessarily the man’s only victim. Clearly, their attacker wanted them both to give the same explanation.’
‘And one is taken in by it and confides in her sister, while the other thinks it’s totally crazy?’
‘But it has the same upshot,’ Flóvent pointed out. ‘Neither one of them reported him. Neither would say who her rapist was. Either they were protecting him or they were afraid to expose him.’
‘Why?’
‘For various reasons the girl up north was more receptive to the lie. She believed in the huldufólk. Had heard tales of people’s dealings with them. No doubt she was familiar with the folk tales in books and genuinely believed some of them. Maybe even swallowed the lot.’
‘Still, we can’t rule out coincidence,’ said Thorson.
‘No, of course we can’t rule anything out,’ conceded Flóvent, ‘though I find it highly unlikely. And we do know one thing we didn’t know before.’
‘What’s that?’
‘We’re looking for an Icelander. I can’t imagine the foreign soldiers here know the first thing about the elves.’
The woman opened the door before they had a chance to knock and looked them both up and down.
‘And who are you fine gentlemen?’
‘We’re from the police,’ said Flóvent.
‘The police? That’s all we need. What do you want with me?’
‘We’d like to ask you a few questions about a girl who came to you for help,’ said Flóvent. He added tactfully, mindful of the two children he’d seen in the window: ‘We gather you provide certain services behind closed doors.’
‘Services? What are you on about? I sell eggs sometimes. That’s no crime.’
‘That’s not what we’re talking about,’ said Flóvent. ‘I believe you know what I mean. As it happens, we’re not here about that. Though you can expect a visit from our colleagues shortly. What we’re interested in is a young woman who came to see you recently, seeking your help.’
‘A young woman? That’s not much to go on.’
‘You talked about the huldufólk,’ said Thorson.
‘Remember her?’ asked Flóvent.
The woman stared at him. ‘Did she come crying to you, telling tales?’
‘I’m afraid I’m not with you,’ said Flóvent.
‘That other one. She chickened out. It was her who reported me, wasn’t it? Snooty little madam. Brittle as a china doll. Was it her?’ The woman stepped out over the threshold, pulling the door carefully shut behind her. ‘I’m not a bit ashamed of what I do,’ she went on. ‘You bloody men don’t have to worry about a thing. You leave all that to the women. So what if I help those poor girls? I haven’t hurt anybody, let me tell you. I’ve —’
‘As my colleague said, we’re not concerned with that side of things,’ Thorson interrupted, noticing the fingers curled, clawlike, into her palms as Ingiborg had described. ‘You’ll have to explain to someone else what kind of charity it is you run here. What can you tell us about the first girl? Did she give you her name?’
‘No.’
‘Or tell you what she did for a living?’
‘She said she worked as a seamstress, not that I asked.’
‘Is this her?’ asked Flóvent, showing her the photograph of Rósamunda.
The woman examined the picture. ‘Yes, that’s her.’
‘Did you know she was found murdered behind the National Theatre a few days ago?’
‘Murdered? No. I hadn’t heard. Well, I knew a young woman had been found... Was that her?’
‘Did she tell you who the father was?’ asked Thorson.
‘No.’
‘Did you get any feeling about who it might have been?’
‘How do you mean “feeling”? I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.’
‘Well, whether it could have been a soldier, for example,’ said Thorson.
‘No, I don’t know. Was it a soldier who killed her?’
‘We’re aware that soldiers have referred women to you,’ said Flóvent, ignoring this.
‘I don’t know anything about that.’
‘You said she’d babbled on about the hidden people,’ said Thorson. ‘What did she mean?’
‘The poor girl, she was desperate when she came here. Could hardly get a word of sense out of her. All she wanted was to get rid of... for me to help her with her problem. She wouldn’t hear of anything else. Couldn’t bear the thought of having the child. Couldn’t bear it.’
‘Why not?’ asked Flóvent.
‘She claimed it wasn’t her fault...’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I took it that she’d been raped rather than done it willingly...’
‘But she never said who the man was?’
‘No, but it sounded like he wanted her to blame it on the huldufólk or something. She couldn’t stop crying and saying sorry, swearing it wasn’t her fault, that she wasn’t responsible and couldn’t stand the thought of having the baby. My heart went out to the poor girl. Someone had attacked her all right, but it was a man who did it. Forget any talk about elves. You can bet your life he was all too human.’
The US Navy had made major improvements to the road between Reykjavík and Hvalfjördur when they began to store fuel oil on the northern shore of the fjord. As the war went on, more and more warships and cargo vessels docked there, and the naval base now sprawled across the neighbouring ports of Midsandur and Litlisandur. Huts for the workers and huge fuel tanks had sprung up, along with depots providing supplies for naval repairs. A horde of Icelanders worked in the area, including two of Rósamunda’s brothers.
Flóvent and Thorson headed straight up to Hvalfjördur after their visit to the farmhouse on the hill. It was a beautiful, cloudless February day, but cold, and they drove carefully because the road was icy in patches and difficult to negotiate. Thorson had brought chains in case they got stuck in one of the snowdrifts that often blocked the road.