Last Rituals

CHAPTER 32

Thora sat drumming on the edge of her desk with a pencil. Matthew watched her in silence. "I hear the Rolling Stones are looking for a drummer. Your newfound grandmother status should qualify you immediately," he said.

Thora stopped tapping and put the pencil down. "Very funny. That sure helps me think."

"Think? Why do you need to think now?" The day before, Thora had told Matthew about Halldor's desperate attempt to turn the focus on Briet, and he had scoffed at the theory. Thora found it far-fetched, too, but after lying awake all night tossing and turning she was not so certain. Matthew continued: "It seems to be falling into place apart from a few loose ends. Believe me, when the police investigate Halldor the money will turn up; the manuscript, too, if it exists."

He looked out the window. "Let's go to a restaurant and have a late breakfast." Matthew had just arrived at Thora's office after oversleeping.

"We can't. It's the catering union's anniversary today," Thora lied. "They don't open until noon." Matthew groaned. "You'll survivethere are some biscuits in the kitchen," she said. She reached for the phone and called Bella. "Bella, could you bring in the packet of biscuits that's by the coffee machine?" Sensing the "no" that hung in the air she quickly added: "It's for Matthew, not me. Thanks." She turned to Matthew. "Don't you think there are grounds for checking what he said about Briet? There may be something to it."

Matthew leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling before answering. "You realize that Halldor's cornered, of course?" Thora nodded. "Nothing we've seen or heard suggests Briet's implicated apart from being a little crazy and taking part in strange rituals involving baked body parts."

"Maybe we've simply overlooked something," said Thora without much conviction.

"Such as?" Matthew asked. "Unfortunately, Thora, it looks like Hugi killed Harald after all and then his friend took over. All that remains to be established is whether they were working together and pocketed the money. There are overwhelming odds that they told Harald a pack of lies about the manuscript and pretended to know where to find it. You must admit Halldor was in a key position to invent a story when he helped Harald with his translations. They could have pretended to arrange the deal and then swiped the money. When the time came to hand over the manuscript they had to take measures to keep Harald quiet. Halldor's explanation for the T-shirt has to be made up."

"But" At that moment Bella stormed in with the biscuits, without knocking. She had arranged them neatly on a plate and poured a cup of coffee. One cup of coffee. Thora had a hunch that if the biscuits had been for her, Bella would have lobbed the unopened packet from the doorway, aiming straight for her head.

"Thank you very much," Matthew said, taking the refreshments. "Some people don't understand the importance of breakfast." He nodded toward Thora and winked at Bella. Bella frowned at Thora, then gave Matthew a wide smile and walked out.

"You winked at her," Thora said, astonished.

Matthew winked twice at Thora. "Two for you. Happy?" He put a biscuit in his mouth with a dramatic gesture.

Thora rolled her eyes. "Watch it, she's unattached and I might just tell her what hotel you're staying at." Her mobile rang.

"Hello, is that Thora Gudmundsdottir?" asked a woman's voice that Thora vaguely recognized.

"Yes, hello."

"This is Gudrun, Harald's landlady."

"Ah, yes, hello." Thora scribbled down her name and who she was and showed it to Matthew. She added a double question mark to indicate that the purpose of the call was unclear.

"I don't know if I'm phoning the right person but I had your card andanyway, I found a box belonging to Harald here this weekend, with all sorts of things in it." She fell silent.

"Yes, I know what was found," Thora said to spare the woman from describing the baked body parts.

"You do?" The relief in her voice was tangible. "I was terribly shocked as you can imagine, but I just now realized that I took a piece of paper with me when I ran out of the laundry room."

"Which you still have?" Thora felt she had to help the woman stay focused.

"Yes, right. I took it with me when I went to phone the police and just found it in the kitchen by the telephone."

"Did this piece of paper belong to Harald?"

"Well, I honestly don't know. It's an old letter. Ancient really. I remembered that you were looking for something like that, and thought it might be better to let you have it rather than the police." Thora heard the woman take a deep breath before continuing. "They've got enough on their plate. I can't imagine this has anything to do with the case."

Thora wrote on the piece of paper: "Old letter??" Matthew raised his eyebrows and took another biscuit. To Gudrun, Thora said: "We'd like to take a look at it at least. Can we come to see you now?"

"Um, yes. I'm at home. There's just one thing." She paused.

"What?" Thora asked cautiously.

"I'm afraid the letter got quite crumpled in my rush. I was in total shock. It's not ruined, though." She hurried to add: "That was really why I didn't tell the police about it. I didn't want them fussing about me damaging it. I hope you understand how it happened."

"No problem. We're on our way." Thora put the phone down and stood up. "You'll have to take the biscuits with you, we're leaving. We may have found the lost letter from Denmark."

Matthew grabbed two biscuits and had a last sip of coffee. "The letter the professor was looking for?"

"Yes, hopefully." Thora swung her bag over her arm and went to the door. "If it is, we can return it to Gunnar and maybe try to get some more details out of him about the story Halldor told me about Briet." She smiled triumphantly, pleased at her good fortune. "Even if it's not the letter, we can pretend to think it is."

"Are you going to trick the old fellow?" Matthew asked. "That's not a very nice thing to dogiven what the poor guy's been through."

Thora looked over her shoulder on her way down the corridor and smiled at him. "The only way to find out if this is the letter is to take it to Gunnar. He'll be so delighted when he sees it that he'll do anything for us. Two or three questions about Briet can hardly hurt."

Thora's smile had faded by the time they found themselves sitting in Gudrun's kitchen with the letter on the table in front of them. Gunnar would hardly be pleased to retrieve it in such bad condition. He'd probably wish it had never been found. "You're sure it wasn't torn when you took it out of the box?" asked Thora, carefully trying to smooth out the thick sheet without ripping the part that had almost been torn off.

Gudrun cast a guilty look at the letter. "I'm quite certain. It was intact. I must have ripped it in my agitation." She smiled apologetically. "They can stick it back togethercan't they? Maybe iron it out a bit?"

"Oh, yes. I'm sure they can," said Thora, although she suspected that a repair would be a rather complicated procedure, if it was possible at all. "Thank you very much for contacting us. You did the right thingthis is probably the document we were looking for and it really has nothing to do with the police investigation. We'll return it to its rightful owners."

"Good. The sooner I get rid of everything to do with Harald and leave all this mess behind, the better. It hasn't been pleasant for my husband and me since the murder. And I'd like you to tell his family I really want the apartment cleared soon. The sooner I can forget all this, the sooner I can start to get over it." She placed her slender hands down flat on the table and stared at her fingers, adorned with rings. "Not that I didn't like Harald himself. Don't misunderstand me."

"Oh, no," Thora said in a friendly voice. "I can't imagine it's been at all pleasant." After a short pause she asked: "One final question. I'd like to ask if you got to know Harald's friendssaw them or heard them?"

"Are you trying to be funny?" the woman asked, her tone suddenly turning dry. "Did I hear them? At times they might as well have been in my apartment, there was so much noise."

"What kind of noise?" Thora asked cautiously. "Quarreling? Shouting?"

Gudrun snorted. "It was mostly loud music. If music's the word. And terrible thuds, like they were stamping their feet or jumping. The odd howl, shouting and hootingI often thought I'd have done better renting the place to animal keepers."

"Why did you go on renting it to him?" asked Matthew, who had kept himself out of their conversation up to that point. "If I remember correctly, there was a clause about conduct in the tenancy agreement and the right to terminate it in the event of noncompliance."

Gudrun blushed. "I liked him despite everything. I suppose that's the explanation. He paid the rent promptly and was a good tenant himself."

"So was it mainly his friends who made all the noise?" asked Thora.

"Yes, you could say that," said Gudrun. "At least, it intensified when they were around. Harald played loud music and stomped around sometimesbut when his friends were with him it was so much louder."

"Did you ever witness arguments or disagreements between Harald and his friends?" Thora asked.

"No, I can't say I did. The police asked me the same question. All I remember was one very heated exchange between Harald and some girl in the laundry room. I didn't get involved, I was busy baking. I wasn't in there or anything, I just happened to hear it when I walked past." The blush returned to her cheeks. Previously, Gudrun had shown them the laundry room to explain how she found the box. The room was off the hallway and it was impossible for her to have walked past unless she had just come in through the front door. She had obviously been eavesdropping and Thora tried to think of a way to let her say what she heard without admitting that she had had her ear against the door.

"Oh." She sighed, full of sympathy. "I once lived in an apartment where the door to the laundry room was next to mine, and the things I had to put up with. You could hear almost every single word. I found it awfully uncomfortable."

"Yes," Gudrun said hesitantly. "Harald was generally in the laundry room by himselffortunately. I don't know if this girl was helping him with the washing or was just there to keep him company, but they were very worked up. It had to do with a missing letter if I recall. This one, I guess." She gestured with her chin toward the table. "Harald kept asking her to forget about something; calmly at first, but he got very worked up when she demanded to know why he refused to back her up. She kept saying it would give her such awesome leveragewhatever that means. That was all I heard because I was just walking past, as I said."

"Did you recognize the girl's voicecould it have been that little blond friend of his?" Thora asked hopefully.

"I couldn't really say," said Gudrun, sarcasm creeping back into her tone. "There were mainly two who came here: a tall redhead and that blond one. They both looked like hookers who'd suddenly been drafted into the armycovered in war paint and wearing those baggy camouflage trousers. Awfully unattractive and rude, both of them. We often bumped into each other but I don't think they ever said hello to me. There was no way for me to tell who it was without actually seeing her."

While Thora agreed that Briet and Marta Mist were rude, they could hardly be called unattractive. She was beginning to suspect that the woman fancied Harald and had a grudge against his girlfriends. Stranger things happened. She tried to conceal her hunch. "Well, that doesn't matter anyway. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the case." She stood up and took the letter. "Thank you very much again, and I'll pass on your request about clearing out the apartment."

Matthew stood up, too, and shook the woman's hand. She smiled at him and he gave a meaningful smile back. "Why don't you just take the apartment instead?" she said, putting her left hand warmly over his.

"Yes, no, I won't be in Iceland for too much longer," he stammered as he tried to think of a way to retrieve his hand.

"Anyway, you could always move in with Bella." Thora smiled. Matthew gave her a dirty look, but his expression softened slightly when Gudrun released his hand.

"You give him the document," said Thora, trying to get Matthew to take hold of the large envelope. Gudrun had found it for them as they were leaving, placing the old letter inside to prevent further damage. As if there was any point.

"Out of the question," said Matthew, crossing his arms tight. "It was your idea, so I'm just going to sit and watchI might hand him a handkerchief if he bursts into tears when he realizes it's in tatters."

"I haven't felt like this since the time I came back from my driving test and reversed straight into our neighbor's car," Thora said while they sat waiting. They had been offered a seat and told that Gunnar would see them after his class ended. Since no one seemed to be around, Thora took the opportunity to stretch out in the chair. "It's not as if it was me who ripped the letter."

"But you're the one who gets to break the news," Matthew said, looking at the clock. "Is he coming? I have to have a proper meal before you go meet Amelia. Are you sure this caterers' holiday is only until noon?"

"We'll be quick, don't worry. You'll be eating before you know it." Hearing footsteps from the other end of the corridor, she looked up. It was Gunnar. He had a pile of papers and books in his arms and seemed surprised to see them.

"Hello," he said, trying to fish the key to his office out of his pocket. "Have you come to see me?"

Matthew and Thora stood up. "Yes, hello," said Thora. She waved the envelope in front of her. "We wanted to ask you whether a letter that was found over the weekend might be the one you're looking for."

Gunnar's face lit up. "Really?" he said, opening the door. "Do come in. What marvelous news." He went over to his desk and put down the books and papers. Then he sat down and gestured to them to take a seat. "Where was it found?"

Thora sat down and put the envelope on the table. "At Harald's flat, in a box of odd stuff. I must warn you that the letter's not in good condition." She gave an apologetic smile. "The person who found it had a little fit."

"A little fit?" Gunnar repeated vaguely. He took the envelope and opened it carefully. He slowly removed the letter, and as its condition became clear he grew more and more distressed. "What on earth happened?" He put the letter down on the desk and stared at it.

"Um, the woman found all kinds of other things that upset her," said Thora. "With very good reason, I can assure you. She asked us to return it because she was very sorry and hoped it could be repaired." She smiled even more apologetically than before.

Gunnar said nothing. He stared at the letter as if frozen. Suddenly he began to laugh. Disturbing laughternot at all like amusement. "My God." He sighed when the bout of hysteria had ended. "Maria will be furious." A little spasm passed through his body when he said the name. He stroked the document, lifted it up, and examined it. "But this is the letter; we should be pleased about that, at least." He giggled.

"Maria?" said Thora. "Who's Maria?"

"The director of the Manuscript Institute," Gunnar replied weakly. "She's the one who's worried about this letter."

"Maybe you could pass the message on from the finder," said Thora, "that she's very sorry."

Gunnar looked up from the letter. His expression implied that this would have little effect. "Yes, I will."

"I want to use this opportunity, Gunnar, to ask you about a student in your departmentBriet, Harald's friend."

Gunnar narrowed his eyes. "What about her?"

"We were told that they had an argument. Something to do with their joint project on Brynjolfur Sveinsson. They had a fight about a lost document. Do you know anything about it?" Thora noticed a painting on the wall behind Gunnar which, as far as she could tell, showed the bishop. "Isn't that him?" She pointed to the picture.

Gunnar said nothing. He was deep in thought. He did not look around, since he was well aware what was hanging on the wall. "That's not Brynjolfur Sveinsson, it's my great-grandfather, whom I'm named after. The Reverend Gunnar Hardarson. He's wearing clergyman's vestments, not the robes of a seventeenth-century bishop."

Thora blushed a little and decided not to ask about another of the numerous photographs she noticed on the wallone which appeared to show Gunnar and the farmer from Hella she and Matthew had met when they went to the caves. Her embarrassment cheered Gunnar up a little and he leaned forward to hiss: "You two are the least welcome visitors I've ever had."

Thora was taken aback. "I'm sorry. But I'd still like to ask you to show a little patiencewe're just trying to tie up a few loose ends, and Briet is one of them. If you'd prefer not to discuss it, you might be able to give us the name of the teacher or professor who was in charge of the project."

"No, no. I can tell you all about itthat shouldn't be too hard for me. I only meant that you have a knack for unearthing very sensitive in-house matters, which you seem to have done again."

"Really?" Thora said in surprise. "I thought it would be most sensitive for Briet. We understand she behaved rather strangely, that's why we're asking."

"Briet, yes. Quite right, her behavior was most odd. It was really thanks to Harald that we managed to stop her before the department ended up in a very embarrassing position." Gunnar loosened his tie.

"So what did this involve exactly?" she asked as she noticed Gunnar's tiepin for the first time. It reminded her of something that she could not quite place.

Gunnar's eyes darted down to his tie as he sensed Thora staring at it. He stroked it with his palm just in case he had spilled some food on it. He scratched himself on the pin and pulled his hand back quickly. "What did it involve, you saylet's see. If I remember correctly, Harald and Briet decided to compile a register of all known records about Brynjolfur Sveinsson as part of a course they attended. I think Harald proposed it, not Briet. She just tagged along; she was in the habit of latching onto others for projects."

"Was it connected with his dissertation?" asked Thora; she expected he had really been investigating whether the bishop had had a copy of Malleus Maleficarum.

"No, not at all," Gunnar replied. "We found him rather lacking in focus, as I believe I told you. Instead of using his course projects to prepare his dissertation, he roamed far and wideabsorbed himself in topics that sometimes had nothing to do with the history of sorcery. That was particularly true in Brynjolfur Sveinsson's casehe was around in the seventeenth century, as you know."

"Were you his supervisor on this project?" asked Thora.

"No, I think it was Thorbjorn Olafsson. I can check if you want." Gunnar gestured at the computer screen on his desk.

Thora declined the offer. "No, that probably won't be necessary. If you could just tell us what happened we'd be perfectly happy. This is all we need to know at the moment. We're rather pushed for time."

Gunnar looked at his watch. "So am I, actuallyI have to hand over the letter to Maria." Judging from his expression, he did not relish the task. "Anyway, they went to the main archives in Reykjavik, the national archives, the manuscript department of the national library, and such places to compile a record of all the documents and letters mentioning Bishop Brynjolfur Sveinsson. They made good progress, I understand, until Briet claimed to have discovered that some letters were missing from the national archives."

"Isn't that conceivable?" Thora asked, with a glance at the ripped letter on the desk. "I mean, such things happen."

"That may well be, but in this case it was a simple administrative error. Admittedly the whereabouts of the letters are uncertain, but she blamed the theft on a certain man who is above suspicion in this instance."

"Who?" Thora asked.

"Yours truly," said Gunnar, then fell silent. He looked at them, his eyes daring them to challenge his innocence.

"I see," Thora said, looking Gunnar firmly in the eye, then added: "Excuse me for asking, but why should she have suspected you?"

"As I said, there was an administrative error. According to the records I was the last person to have examined the letter, but I never touched it. Either someone used my name, or the entry numbers were mixed up. Brynjolfur Sveinsson does not interest me and it never occurred to me to look for documents related to him. What made the matter even more unfortunate was that the girl tried to take advantage of this to make me help her through her course. She said straight out that she'd keep quiet if I gave her a helping hand, as she so tastefully put it. I discussed it with Harald and he promised to talk her out of this nonsense. I contacted my friends at the archives and demanded an inquiry. I didn't want some silly girl thinking she could blackmail me. But they found nothing because it was such a long time ago, a decade or so. In the end they admitted that it must have been a mistake on their part, the letter had presumably been filed away with another and would eventually come to light. Briet had the sense not to mention it to me again."

"What was this letter anyway?" asked Thora. "What was it about, I mean?"

"The letter was written in 1702 from one of the clergymen at Skalholt, to Arni Magnusson. It appears to be a reply to his inquiry about what had happened to part of the foreign manuscript collection owned by Bishop Brynjolfur, who had died some time before, in 1675. So there's no doubt the letter was in the archive. Many people remember it. It was old news."

"Nothing else?" Thora persisted. "Nothing about hidden manuscripts or attempts to spirit them away from Skalholt?"

Gunnar studied her face. "Why do you ask if you already know the answer?"

"What do you mean?" Thora exclaimed. "All I know about that letter is what you've just told me." Her eyes returned to Gunnar's tiepin. Why the hell was it bothering her? And what was the man driving at?

"It's a remarkable coincidence," said Gunnar dryly. He clearly believed she and Matthew knew more than they actually did. "We can go on beating about the bush if you want. The letter contains a cryptic passage about safeguarding valuables from Danish colonial officials and storing them beside the ancient cross. This is generally agreed to be a reference to the holy cross in the church at Kadlanes, which was removed during the Reformation when places of worship were stripped of their icons."

"You seem to know an awful lot about this letter," said Matthew, chipping in for the first time. "Considering that you've never seen it."

"Of course I acquainted myself with it when the accusations were made against me," Gunnar snapped. "The letter is well known among historians, and several fine papers have been written about it."

Thora stared at his tie as if in a trance. The pin was unusual, quite irregular in shape and apparently made of silver. "Where did you get that tiepin?" she asked suddenly, pointing to his chest.

Gunnar and Matthew both looked at her, dumbfounded. Gunnar grasped his tie and examined the pin. He released it and looked again at Thora. "I must admit I don't understand the direction this conversation is taking. But since you seem so interested, it was a fiftieth-birthday present." He stood up. "I don't think there's any point in talking furtherI have no particular interest in discussing my appearance. I have a less than pleasant meeting awaiting me with the director of the Manuscript Institute and I can't waste any more time on such nonsense. I sincerely wish you all the best with your investigation but I suggest that you stick to the present, because the past has nothing to do with Harald's murder."

He accompanied them to the door.