Last Rituals

CHAPTER 3

Thora was not usually afraid of thieves, but on her way from the meeting with Matthew she made sure to clutch her handbag tightly. She could not bear the thought of having to phone him to announce that the documents had been stolen. It was therefore with immense relief that she stepped inside the office.

She was greeted by the stench of tobacco smoke. "Bella, you know smoking's not allowed in here."

Bella jumped away from the window and threw something out in a fluster. "I wasn't." A thin strip of smoke curled up out of one side of her mouth.

Thora groaned to herself. "Oh, in that case, your mouth's caught fire." Then she added: "Close the window and smoke in the coffee room. Surely you'll feel more comfortable there than hanging over the side of the building."

"I wasn't smoking. I was shooing pigeons off the windowsill," Bella retorted indignantly. Experience had taught Thora that it was not worth arguing with the girl. She went into her office and closed the door.

The file Matthew had given her was crammed full. It was black, which was somehow appropriate in light of its contents. The spine was unlabeled; no doubt it had been difficult to find an appropriate title. "Harald Guntlieb in life and death," Thora muttered as she opened the file and examined the neatly arranged table of contents. The file was divided into seven sections, apparently in chronological order: Germany, Military Service, the University of Munich, the University of Iceland, Bank Accounts, Police Investigation. The seventh and final section was called Autopsy. She decided to go through the file in the order in which it had been arranged.

Looking at her watch, she saw it was almost two o'clock. She would hardly have time to read it all before having to fetch her daughter Soley from after-school day careunless she hurried. Thora set her mobile phone alarm to a quarter to five. She was determined to get through most of the file by that time. She preferred not to have to take the documents home with her, although this was not uncommon when she was busy. What it contained was surely not the type of material to be left lying around in the presence of children. She turned over the first separator and started reading.

At the front was a stamped photocopy of a birth certificate. It stated that Frau Amelia Guntlieb had given birth to a healthy baby boy in Munich on June 18, 1978. The father's name was given as Herr Johannes Guntlieb, bank director. Thora did not recognize the hospital. Judging by the name it was not one of the large state hospitals. She assumed it was either an exorbitant private hospital or a clinic for the wealthy. The space for recording the baby's religion had been filled in with "Roman Catholic." If her memory did not deceive her, Thora recalled that around one in every three Germans was of that denomination, with a higher percentage in the south of the country. As a student in Germany, Thora had been surprised by how many Catholics there were. She had always associated Germans with Lutheranism and believed that Catholics were found mainly in more southerly countries such as Italy, Spain, and France.

Thora read on.

The next few pages were plastic photo album sheets, filled mostly with photographs of the Guntliebs on various occasions. Accompanying each photograph was a strip of white paper with the names of the people it showed. Quickly flicking through the pictures, she saw that Harald was in every one. Besides family shots there were school photos of him at various ages, with the obligatory smartly combed look. Thora wondered why the photographs were in the folder. The only logical reason was to remind the reader that the murder victim had once been a living person. It worked.

The first photographs, which were the oldest, showed a small and chubby boy, with either his brotherwho appeared to be two or three years olderor his mother. Thora was struck by how beautiful Amelia Guntlieb was. Although some of the photographs were rather grainy, she was obviously one of those women who always seem effortlessly elegant. Thora was captivated by one shot in particular in which the mother was helping her son practice walking. Taken outside in the garden, it showed Frau Guntlieb holding Harald's hands as he stumbled forward with the clumsy gait of a one-year-old, one foot in the air, leg bent firmly at the knee. Frau Guntlieb was smiling into the camera and her beautiful face radiated joy. The cold voice that Thora had heard over the telephone did not seem to fit that expression. The boy was young enough that his features were still hidden behind baby fat and a stubby nose, but the resemblance between mother and son could nevertheless be seen.

The next photographs showed Harald at around two or three. Now he bore an even closer resemblance to his mother, although without appearing girlish. His mother was in the photographs too, pregnant first, then smiling as she held a baby wrapped in a thick blanket in her arms. In that particular shot Harald was beside the chair she was sitting in, standing on his tiptoes to peep at the bundled-up baby, his sister. His mother had her hand around his shoulders. From the label under the photograph Thora saw that the girl had been named Amelia after her mother. Amelia Maria. This was the girl who had died from a congenital disease. Judging from the photograph, the family had not realized at first that she was ill. The mother, at least, looked ecstatic and free from worry. In the next scenes, however, something had changed. Where before she had been smiling in every photo, Frau Guntlieb now seemed distant and sad. In one pose she wore a smile for form's sake, but it did not reach her eyes. Nor was there any of the physical contact between her and Harald that had characterized the earlier photographs. The little boy seemed subdued and confused as well. The baby girl was nowhere to be seen.

Part of the family history seemed to have been omitted, because the next series took Thora at least five years forward in time. It began with a posed family photograph, the first to feature Herr Guntlieb. He was a respectable-looking man, clearly a bit older than his wife. All the people in the photograph were dressed up smartly and a baby had joined the group, lying in her mother's arms. This must have been the youngest child, the only one alive today. The little sick girl was back, in a wheelchair this time. It did not take a doctor to realize how seriously handicapped she was, strapped into the wheelchair with her head thrown back and mouth hanging open. Her lower jaw hung to one side, indicating that she had little control over it. This seemed to be the case with her limbs too: one arm was bent at the elbow and the hand was abnormally close to it. The fingers of that hand were curled into a claw. Her other hand lay powerless in her lap. Behind the wheelchair stood Harald, eight years old at a guess. His expression was unlike anything Thora had seen her own son produce at that age; the child seemed devastated. Although the other family membersHerr and Frau Guntlieb and Harald's elder brotherwere not exactly the picture of happiness, the boy looked tragically miserable. Something had clearly happened and Thora wondered whether such a young child could be so affected by his younger sister's illness. Perhaps he simply had psychological problems, which was not unknown among children. He may have been depressed as a child and competing for attention with his younger siblings proved too much for him. If so, it was obvious from the following photographs that the parents did not know how to respond. None of them showed any physical affection for the boy, who always stood apart from the family except in a few instances when his elder brother was by his side. It was as if his mother had simply forgotten him or was deliberately ignoring him. Thora reminded herself not to draw too many conclusions from the photographs. They captured only moments from these people's lives and could never give a complete picture of what they did or thought.

There was a knock on the door and Bragi, Thora's partner in the law firm and its founder, peeped inside. "Got a minute?"

Thora nodded and Bragi stepped inside. He was approaching sixty, stout and hefty, one of those men who are not just tall but simply huge. Thora thought the best way to describe him was that he was two sizes too large in every respectfingers, ears, nose and all. He slammed himself down in the chair facing her desk and pulled over the folder Thora was looking at. "How did it go?"

"The meeting? Fine, I think," Thora answered, watching Bragi as he flicked casually through the family photographs she had just been examining.

"This lad looks awfully morose," said Bragi, pointing to a photograph of Harald. "Is he the one who was murdered?"

"Yes," Thora replied. "They're rather strange photos."

"Well, I don't know. You should see my childhood photos. I was a hopeless kid. Miserable, a total loser. As clearly shown by any photos from that time."

Thora read nothing into this. She was used to all manner of peculiar remarks from Bragi. He was bound to be exaggerating in calling himself a hopeless loser as a boy, just as he did when he talked about how he had to work full-time as a night watchman weighing fish at the harbor and on a fishing boat over the weekends just to pay his way through law school. Nonetheless, she liked him. He had never been anything but kind to her, from the day three years ago when he invited her into a law partnership with him, which she gratefully accepted. At that time she was working with a medium-sized law firm and was relieved to get out; she did not miss the conversations beside the coffee machine about salmon fishing and neckties.

Bragi pushed the folder back to Thora. "Are you going to take it on?"

"Yes, I think so," she replied. "It's a change. Besides, it's always fun to tackle something new."

Bragi grunted. "That's not always the case, I'll tell you that. I didn't find it exciting having to deal with colon cancer a few years back even though that was quite new to me."

Not wanting to pursue that line, Thora hurried to say: "You know what I mean."

Bragi stood up. "Yes, sure. I just wanted to warn you not to expect too much." He walked over to the door, then turned round and added: "Tell me, do you think you can use Thor on this case at all?"

Thor had just graduated from law school and had been working for them for a little over half a year. He was something of a loner, unsociable, but all his work was exemplary and Thora saw nothing wrong with having his help if she needed it. "I'd been thinking more about using him to take over other cases for me so that I could focus on this one. I have plenty of projects that he can easily keep afloat."

"No problem, just do as you think best."

Thora picked up the folder again and flipped through the remaining photographs, watching Harald grow up into a handsome young man with his mother's fair complexion. His father was much darker and not quite as memorable as his mother. The last page held only two photographs: one from a graduation ceremony, presumably at the University of Munich, and the other showing either the beginning or the end of his military serviceat least, Harald was wearing a German army uniform. Thora was not knowledgeable enough to be able to tell which regiment he belonged to. She assumed that this would come to light in the chapter on military service referred to on the contents page.

The next pages contained photocopies of Harald's certificates for completing various stages of his education, and it was obvious that he had been extraordinarily clever. He always earned top grades, which Thora knew from her own experience was not easy to achieve in the German educational system. The last account, from the University of Munich where Harald earned a B.A. in history, was in the same vein. In fact, he had graduated cum laude. The chronology of the documents revealed that Harald had taken a gap year before enrolling in college, presumably because of military service.

Thora was surprised that this young man had chosen to join the army, given his splendid academic record. Although Germany had national service, it was simple to avoid, especially for the son of such rich parents. They could easily have had him relieved of that duty.

Thora flicked through to another part of the folder, marked "Military Service." It was a slender chapter, only a couple of pages. The first contained a photocopy of Harald Guntlieb's induction into the Bundeswehr in 1999. Apparently he enlisted for das deutsche Heer, the regular army. It puzzled her that he had not opted for the air force or navy. With his father's influence, she was certain he could have had his pick of the regiments. On the next page was a document stating that Harald's regiment was to be sent to Kosovo, and the third and final page was his discharge paper, dated seven months later. No explanation was given apart from a barely legible "medizinische Grunde"on medical grounds. In the margin of the photocopy, a neat question mark had been made. Thora assumed this was Matthew's writing; to the best of her knowledge, he had gathered all the information alone. Thora jotted down a memo to herself to ask about the exact reason for Harald's discharge. She moved on to the next section.

Like the chapter on military service, this one opened with a photocopy. It was his enrollment letter from the University of Munich. Thora noticed that it was dated only one month after his discharge from the army. So Harald appeared to have recovered quite quickly after leaving the army, if illness was indeed the reason his duty ended. Next came several pages that Thora could not completely understand. One was a photocopy of the founding agenda of a historical society named Malleus Maleficarum. Another was a reference from a certain Professor Chamiel, singing Harald's praises, and others seemed to be descriptions of courses in fifteenth-, sixteenth-, and seventeenth-century history. Thora was not entirely sure what she would gain from this information.

At the end of this section were clippings from German newspapers describing the deaths of several young men as a result of peculiar sex acts. Reading them, Thora gathered that the acts involved constricting the breathing with a noose during masturbation. This must have been the erotic asphyxiation Matthew had mentioned. If the article was anything to go by, this was not an uncommon practice among people who have trouble achieving orgasm due to drug abuse, alcohol, and the like. There was no explanatory note linking the story to Harald, apart from the fact that one of the young men had studied at the same university. The student was not named, nor was any date given. However, there must have been some connection since this article was included in the folder.

Thora flicked back to Harald's graduation photograph at the end of the first section. Scrutinizing it, she thought she could see a red mark on his neck above the shirt. She removed the photograph from its sheath to take a better look. It was slightly sharper outside the plastic, but not clear enough for Thora to be certain that the mark was a bruise. She made a mental note to ask Matthew about this matter as well.

The last page of this peculiar collage from Harald's undergraduate years in Munich was the title page of his dissertation. Its topic was witch hunts in Germany, focusing on the execution of children suspected of sorcery. A shiver ran down Thora's spine. Of course she had heard about witch hunts in history lessons at school, but did not recall any mention of children. That would hardly have escaped her attention, even though history bored her stiff at that time. Since there was nothing apart from the title page, Thora tried to console herself by hoping that the essay included no evidence of children being burned at the stake. Deep down inside, however, she knew otherwise. She started reading the section on the University of Iceland.

It contained a letter stating that Harald's application for admission to a master's course in history had been approved and welcoming him to the university in autumn 2004. Next came a printout of Harald's grades in the courses he had completed. From the date on the paper, Thora saw that the printout was made after his death. Presumably Matthew had obtained it. Although Harald had not managed to complete many courses in the year or so that he was a student, the grades were all very high. Thora suspected that he must have been allowed to take his examinations in English, since as far as she knew he did not speak Icelandic. It appeared he had ten credits left to take, as well as the completion of his master's dissertation.

On the next page was a list of five names. They were all Icelanders and after each name came an academic discipline and what could have been a date of birth. Since nothing else was mentioned, Thora assumed they were Harald's friends; most were of a similar age. The names were: Marta Mist Eyjolfsdottir, Gender Studies, b. 1981; Brjann Karlsson, History, b. 1981; Halldor Kristinsson, Medicine, b. 1982; Andri Thorsson, Chemistry, b. 1979; and Briet Einarsdottir, History, b. 1983. Thora read on in the hope of finding more information about the students, but in vain because the next page was a printout of the campus and its main buildings. Circles had been drawn around the history department and Manuscript Institute, as well as the main building. Once again Thora had to assume that this was an addition from Matthew. It was followed by another printout from the university's Web site. Thora glanced through the text, which was in English and described the history department. This was followed by a similar page on study for international students. She could glean nothing from that.

The last document in the section was a printed-out e-mail sent from hguntlieb@hi. is, obviously Harald's address at the university. It was to his father, dated shortly after he began his studies in autumn 2004. Reading the e-mail, Thora was struck by how cold it was for a letter from a son to his father. Essentially it said how happy Harald was in Iceland, that he had secured a place to live, and so forth. Harald ended by saying that he had found a professor to supervise his dissertation: Professor Thorbjorn Olafsson.

According to the e-mail, his dissertation would compare the burning of witches in Iceland and Germany, stemming from the fact that most convicted sorcerers in Iceland had been males, whereas in Germany females had been in the majority. It ended formally, but Thora noticed a PS under Harald's name: "If you care to make contact, you have my e-mail address now." This did not imply much affection. Perhaps his discharge from the army was in some way connected with their poor relationship. Judging from the photographs, his father did not seem to be the most understanding of people, and he was bound to be unhappy about a child who failed to live up to expectations.

On the next page was a curt reply from his father, also an e-mail. It said: "Dear Harald, I suggest that you stay clear of that essay topic. It is illchosen and not conducive to building character. Take care of your money. Regards," followed by an automatic e-mail signature with his father's full name, position, and address. Well, well, Thora thought, what an old bastard! Not a word about being pleased to hear from his son or missing him, let alone signing it "Dad" or the like. Their relationship was obviously chilly, if not in permafrost. And it was also strange that neither had mentioned Harald's mother, or his younger sister for that matter. Thora did not know about any other e-mail exchanges between the father and son; there were none in the folder.

The final document in this section was a printout from the university listing student societies and student publications in various departments. Scanning the list, Thora noticed nothing interesting until the bottom of the page: "Malleus MaleficarumHistory and Folklore Society." Thora looked up from the folder. This was the same name that was on the photocopy of the agenda from the founding meeting during Harald's student days in Munich. She flicked back through the pages to check. Beneath the name of the society on the Icelandic list was written in pencil: "errichtet 2004"founded 2004. This was after Harald enrolled at the university in Iceland. Could its establishment have been his idea? This was not unlikely, unless Malleus Maleficarum was particularly symbolic for history and folklore. Of course, it could mean anything; Thora knew no Latin to speak of. She moved on to section five, his bank accounts.

This was a thick pile of statements from a foreign bank account. Harald Guntlieb was listed as the holder and his turnover looked enormous at first glance, although little was left in the account at the end of the last period. Several entries had been highlighted with a marker pen: pink for large withdrawals and yellow for large deposits. Thora quickly noticed that the yellow entries were always the same amount, deposited at the beginning of each month. It was a hefty sum, more than she made in half a yeareven a busy one. These must be payments from the trust Matthew said Harald had inherited from his grandfather. It was likely that the inheritance was allocated as regular payments to Harald rather than as a lump sum. This was the most common arrangement for young heirs until a certain age was reached, depending on their reliability. Harald Guntlieb had clearly not been considered very responsible, since, according to Thora's calculations, he was twenty-seven when he died but still had not been entrusted with the principal. However, considerable sums had accumulated in the account, and Harald's basic living expenses were obviously way below his monthly allowance.

The highlighted withdrawals were a completely different matter. They varied in amount and were made at irregular intervals as far as Thora could see. Notes had been written beside most of them, and since there were not so many, Thora browsed them all. She understood some of the remarks immediately, such as "BMW" beside a large withdrawal in the beginning of August 2004, when she assumed he had bought a car in Iceland. Others she could not make head or tail of. "Urteil G.G.," for example, was written alongside a hefty withdrawal from Harald's student days in Munich. Since Urteil means "ruling," she had a hunch that Harald had needed to pay someone to conceal the reason for his dismissal from the army. However, the date did not fit and she could not imagine what G.G. meant. In another place was Schadel, "skull," and elsewhere Gestell, which stumped her. She found more withdrawals with no context and decided not to waste her time on them.

Two entries caught her attention, however. The first, several years old and amounting to 42,000 euros, was yet again designated by the Latin term "Malleus Maleficarum," while the much more recent one had a question mark beside it. This was presumably the money Matthew said had gone missing, just over 310,000 euros. Thora calculated this to be more than twenty-five million Icelandic kronur. No wonder Matthew doubted the money had been spent on drugs. If it had, Harald would have had his work cut out for him, even if Keith Richards had been around to help. And judging from the bank statements it also appeared that Harald was not short of money, in spite of such large withdrawals.

She moved on to the next page, which showed Harald's credit card use in the months before his death. Scanning through them, she saw that the majority of the charges were to restaurants and bars, with the occasional purchase in clothing stores. The restaurants could all be categorized as what Thora's friend Laufey would call "trendy." Noticeably few transactions were made in grocery stores. A large sum spent at Hotel Ranga in mid-September caught Thora's eye, as did another marked "School of Aviation" and a much smaller charge from the Reykjavik family zooof all placesdated at the end of September. There were also a number of small purchases in a pet shop on the outskirts of the capital. Maybe Harald liked animals or had even been trying to impress a single mother by gaining her children's approval. Yet another point to ask Matthew about. The section on Harald's finances ended with these statements. Thora looked at her watch and saw that she was making good progress.

Thora decided to take a rest from the folder. She turned to her computer and Googled "Malleus Maleficarum." More than fifty-five thousand results came back. She soon found one that looked promising, with a page description saying that the phrase meant "Witches' Hammer" and was the title of a book from 1846. Thora clicked the link and a site came up in English. The only graphics on the page were an ancient drawing of a woman in a cowl, apparently tied to a ladder. Two men were struggling to lift up the ladder and roll it, along with the woman, into a great fire blazing in front of them. She was clearly being burned alive. The woman looked heavenward, her mouth open. Thora could not tell whether the artist intended to depict her beseeching God or cursing him. But her desperation was obvious. Thora printed out the page and went to fetch it before Bella removed it from the printer. That girl was capable of anything.