Outside the window a postwoman walked by, towing a red trolley that looked half empty. She was holding some envelopes that she checked briefly before continuing on her way, past Ægir’s parents’ house. Perhaps she couldn’t face trying to force any more letters into the couple’s post-box, which was still bursting at the seams. ‘If Snævar’s account is to be believed, it seems that Karítas lost her nerve and rang his friend Halldór to ask for help. She promised him a big reward if he’d dispose of the body once the yacht was out at sea.’
The couple’s faces radiated disgust mingled with disbelief; Margeir’s forehead creased into a mass of wrinkles. His eyes begged Thóra to stop talking and leave at this point. Trying not to let this deter her, she persevered with her tale: ‘But Halldór refused to get involved, though he agreed not to report her to the authorities. He believed her claim that it had been an accident and also bought the idea that he and Snævar were somehow implicated because they had lent her the keys that had been entrusted to them. Yet this wasn’t enough to make him do what she wanted and no doubt everything would have turned out differently if he had only kept the matter to himself. But he didn’t. That evening when he and Snævar were out boozing, Halldór confided in him about Karítas’s request.’
Thóra paused for breath. Her audience seemed more disorientated with every word and she wasn’t sure they were following her any longer. ‘Do let me know if there’s anything you don’t understand and I’ll try to explain it better.’
‘I understand the words all right.’ The woman fiddled with the buttons of her cardigan. The wool was worn and frayed at the seams, and Thóra wished she herself hadn’t come dressed as if for the courtroom. ‘I just don’t understand them. What kind of people are they?’
‘Deeply flawed. Each in their own way.’ Thóra licked her dry lips. She could have done with a glass of water but didn’t like to put her hosts to the trouble. They had enough to cope with at the moment. ‘Anyway, to go on, Snævar became very excited and tried to talk Halldór round. Karítas was offering a big sum of money as a reward and he thought it only natural that they should share it. But Karítas had omitted to tell Halldór that the money she had come to retrieve was locked in a safe that refused to open, which made it unlikely she would ever be able to pay them a penny of it. In fact, unbeknownst to her, the safe was completely empty. However, Snævar believed she was capable of paying and in the end he told Halldór he would do it himself and keep all the money. Halldór reacted badly and forbade Snævar to make contact with Karítas, threatening to go to the police with the whole story if he went ahead. According to Snævar, they were both pretty drunk by this point and started a fight which ended up with Halldór falling into the road, getting hit by a car and breaking his leg. He was so plastered that he couldn’t give a coherent account of his accident when he was admitted to hospital, and that wasn’t only because of the alcohol. You see, Snævar had lent him his European Health Insurance Card because Halldór hadn’t had the sense to apply for one before he left home. As they were about the same age and there’s no photo on the card, the staff at A & E didn’t doubt for a moment that he was Snævar, so Halldór couldn’t reveal the full story behind his injury. In addition to which, he was in such pain that his priority would have been to see a doctor and get medical attention as soon as possible.’
Thóra paused for breath before carrying on. ‘Karítas and Snævar give contradictory statements about what happened next. She asserts that Snævar killed Halldór, whereas he insists that she murdered him. I doubt the mystery will ever be solved, any more than many other details of this case. It’s clear, though, that after Halldór’s leg had been put in a cast, Snævar took him back to the hotel where he slept it off for most of the day. Meanwhile, Snævar rang Karítas from his friend’s mobile and they agreed to meet down by the yacht. There Snævar set to work, cramming the PA’s body into a large bin-bag and hiding it at the bottom of a big chest freezer. They made a deal that he would throw it into the sea in return for a share of the cash, unaware that this would never be forthcoming. The police believe that after Halldór woke up to find himself in a plaster cast, he went down to the harbour and discovered what was going on. He was furious and threatened to report them, after which one or both of them shut him up by drowning him. He may simply have fallen in during the struggle and been unable to save himself because of his injury. Instead of helping him, they didn’t fish him out until it was too late. Presumably, with the body in the freezer, they were eager at all costs to avoid the unwanted attention that a drowned man would attract.’
‘Which of them is more likely to have killed him?’
‘I’d guess Karítas. She had much more to lose at this stage. But it could just as well have been Snævar. In any case, Halldór’s body ended up on board like the PA’s.’
‘My God.’ The woman rubbed the corners of her eyes behind her glasses. ‘I didn’t know people like that existed.’
‘I’m afraid so.’ Thóra deliberately didn’t remind them that Ægir himself had probably succumbed to the temptation of Karítas’s money while he was in Lisbon with his family. Thóra was fairly convinced that the safe had turned out to contain a fortune in cash and that he had removed it. She hadn’t a clue what he had done with it but it was quite possible that the money had influenced his decision to travel home by ship, since it would have been easier to smuggle it back to Iceland by sea than by air. But his parents didn’t need to hear any of this. Things were bad enough as it was. ‘Their next actions can probably be blamed on the fact that they were in a state of shock; they decided that Snævar should join the crew, posing as Halldór, throw the two bodies overboard during the voyage, and keep up the pretence that nothing was wrong. Karítas dyed his dark hair blond to make him look more like his friend. The other crew members hadn’t met either Halldór or Snævar before, so he had a good chance of getting away with it.’
‘What were they thinking of? How could they imagine it would work?’
‘Apparently, their original idea was that just before the yacht reached land Snævar should jump ship, making it look as if Halldór must have fallen overboard and drowned. Accidents like that aren’t particularly unusual, so it was unlikely to have aroused much suspicion. Then Snævar would pretend that he had been waiting at home with a broken leg after flying back from Lisbon. As it turned out, it never occurred to anyone to check his alibi. After all, Snævar’s leg appeared to be broken and he had papers to prove it from the hospital in Lisbon because Halldór had used his health insurance card. No one thought for a moment that he could have been involved.’ Thóra hesitated. ‘And he would almost certainly have got away with it if Halldór had been the only one to disappear. The investigation of one missing person is nothing compared to a case in which an entire yacht-load of people have vanished into thin air.’
‘I don’t know if I can bear to hear any more.’ Margeir’s expression was grim. ‘These people are sick.’
‘If you don’t want to hear the rest, I can leave it at that. But when this despicable pair are called to the dock, you won’t be able to avoid reading about the case or seeing it on the news. It’ll be impossible to block it out.’ She had resolved beforehand to leave out various details, such as the fact that Snævar had decided to chop off Halldór’s legs, reasoning that it would be best if his body washed ashore as proof that he had fallen overboard, but at the same time needing to disguise the fact that he had a broken leg. As bodies washed up by the sea often have a limb or two missing, he reckoned it wouldn’t look suspicious. But he alone knew why he had amputated both legs rather than just one. Perhaps he thought it would look more plausible as sea damage if both were missing. After this, he had stolen Halldór’s splint and plaster cast to bind round his own leg.