‘But you’ve told me so many things, hardly any of which seem to have any foundation in fact. So permit me to go on with the story. This mess created by your friend and Karítas almost certainly cost my clients their lives. And their daughters.’ Thóra dearly wished she’d brought along a photo of the twins that she could shove in his face. ‘Presumably whoever killed Karítas’s PA stuffed her body into the freezer, hoping to dispose of her once the yacht was out at sea. Then perhaps the couple or one of their daughters came across the body or the money, or worked out by other means that there was something strange going on. So it became necessary to get rid of the family.’
‘Halli would never have done anything like what you’re implying. Never.’
‘Maybe not. But how do we know that someone else wasn’t there with him? Or on board on their own account? Nothing much was heard from the crew after they left port, so there may well have been other passengers on board, whether they were aware of the fact or not. It’s a big yacht.’
‘Like who?’ Snævar narrowed his eyes. ‘No one could hide there without the crew noticing. I’ve already told you that. You’d have to know the yacht inside out and even then you’d have to be incredibly lucky not to get noticed. It’s a crazy idea. Completely crazy.’ Turning to Bella, he asked: ‘You don’t believe this bullshit, do you? You remember what it’s like on board. Do you think either of you would be capable of hiding there?’
‘No, maybe not. But then we don’t know our way around. I bet there are plenty of other people who could.’ Bella shrugged.
Thóra leant as far back as she could without touching the damp towel that was draped over the back of her chair. ‘I assume the police will look into that. And once the culprit has been found and confessed to the truth, it’ll be much easier for a judge to rule that my clients are dead. Then I’ll be able move on to other things, unlike their family who will have to struggle with their grief for the rest of their lives.’
Snævar sat back in the sofa again. ‘No stranger could have stowed away on board. You’ll never get me to buy that.’
‘No, maybe not. But could Karítas have done it?’
‘Oh, do me a favour.’ Snævar looked incredulous. Perhaps he thought women were incapable of stowing away. Or committing murder.
‘Or maybe somebody quite different,’ said Bella.
‘Like who?’
‘Like you.’ As soon as Bella had uttered these words, Thóra felt uncomfortably aware of the smallness of the room and their vulnerability to attack. No doubt Bella had intended it sarcastically; perhaps she had wanted to needle the man sitting opposite them, who was now racking his brains for a suitable reply. But big mouths often blurt out the truth, and all of a sudden Thóra realised that Bella could be right. As far as she knew, no one had checked Snævar’s claim to have flown home, and he could well have been on the yacht, in spite of his broken leg. Her eyes dropped to the plastic splint that projected from under his trouser leg, concealing the cast. From what she could see he was wearing a sock underneath it, and in a flash she understood his reluctance to procure a doctor’s certificate. No doctor with a modicum of self-respect would give a healthy man a certificate confirming that he had a broken leg.
Rarely, if ever, had she been as eager to get outside into the open air.
Chapter 31
Thóra had dressed up that morning out of respect for Ægir’s parents, but as she sat at the table in the small kitchen, she realised it would have made no difference what she was wearing. Such matters were trivial in the face of the news she had brought them. The couple sat opposite her, their haggard features expressing a heartfelt wish that she would stop talking; that she would get the harrowing story over with as soon as possible. They listened attentively, saying little, their eyes fixed on the pattern in the tablecloth. Every now and then one of them would adjust the teaspoon in their saucer or smooth out a wrinkle in the cloth, as if the events Thóra was describing were so unreal that they needed to touch something solid to reassure themselves that this was not a bad dream.
‘So, at the end of the day, it all came down to money. I suppose it’s not really surprising.’ Thóra tried to make eye contact but neither of them would look up. ‘There was a fortune on board; millions of US dollars that the owner of the yacht had stashed in the safe. Or so it’s claimed. No money has been found but both Karítas and Snævar swear blind that they didn’t take it because, although they had the security code, they couldn’t open the safe. They may be telling the truth for all we know. I doubt we’ll ever find out. The fact that they didn’t simply program the yacht to sail off into the Arctic Ocean and never be seen again suggests they genuinely believed the money was still on board. They broke in after her arrival in Iceland to make yet another attempt on the safe, but came away empty-handed, though Karítas couldn’t resist the temptation to grab some of her clothes and a box of personal papers at the same time. Next she tried to persuade me to let her in, presumably for one last crack at it.’ Thóra automatically lowered her voice for what she had to say next. ‘It appears that Ægir got in touch with the American manufacturer of the safe, apparently on behalf of the resolution committee. Once he had managed to convince them of the change of ownership, they provided him with the code that would reset the lock. But he kept this information to himself, so he alone would have had access to the contents. If there were any.’
‘Ægir?’ Margeir’s face was unreadable. He avoided looking at his wife who did not seem to have grasped the implications of Thóra’s words.
‘Yes, but, like I said, we’re not sure there was anything inside when he opened it, though it’s clear that somebody had used the code. We’ll probably never know what happened, so it’s best to assume it was already empty – at least until further evidence comes to light. So much is still unresolved.’
Although many of the questions about what happened on board remained unanswered, the circumstances were much clearer now. The police were still working on the inquiry but the officer Thóra had talked to the day before had thought it unlikely that much more would emerge. Snævar and Karítas had both given extremely one-sided accounts, and the detectives were having to try and piece together the probable sequence of events from their statements.
‘What we have established is that two of the crew members ran into Karítas by chance in Lisbon and she persuaded them to help her go on board to retrieve the money. Not that she actually admitted what she was after; she pretended all she wanted was to fetch some belongings that had been left behind by mistake. They lent her the keys and that same evening she sent her assistant Aldís to pack up her clothes. She herself intended to go on board the following morning to empty the safe.’ Thóra allowed this to sink in before continuing: ‘Snævar and Karítas give conflicting versions of what happened next. She claims she paid an unexpected visit to the yacht that evening and found the keys in the lock but her assistant nowhere to be seen, so she concluded that the girl must have emptied the safe somehow and changed the security code. Whereas Snævar alleges that Karítas caught Aldís messing about and trying on her clothes. When, on top of that, the safe wouldn’t open, Karítas attacked the girl in a rage and pushed her – probably without meaning to – with the result that Aldís banged her head on a sharp marble sink surround in the bathroom.’
‘Which of them is telling the truth, in your opinion?’ Margeir’s question seemed perfunctory, as if he didn’t really care about the answer.
‘My money’s on Snævar, but they’re waiting for the results of tests on the marble surface, which should decide the matter. Until then we’ll just have to rely on their evidence, and his story fits with the captain’s report about finding a dead woman. Whereas Karítas’s statement is full of holes and she’s unable to explain why she took a flight out of Lisbon under Aldís’s name. The police believe she did it to give the impression that the girl had fled the city. If necessary, she wanted to be able to back up her story that Aldís had tampered with the safe and possibly even emptied it.’