The Quiet Mother

51

Some of the video footage was unclear, but here and there it was easier to make out the faces. It showed a lot of the same people, coming to work or leaving, going for lunch or returning from coffee breaks. To that were added people who had business in the building, which was no small number, given the various companies housed there. The surveillance cameras in the lobby by the lifts showed clearer images than those near the entrance, which had something to do with the different lighting conditions. The footage reached back to the time when Valborg looked to Konrád for help. Marta had assigned an officer to go through the footage and compare the people in it with photographs of Valborg found in her home. That was two days ago.

The detention order for Hallur had expired without renewal, and he was released from custody but placed under a travel ban. Glóey had met him on his release and it appeared to Marta that the two of them got on quite well. Hallur had adamantly denied involvement in Valborg’s death; none of his DNA was found on her body or in her flat, and Emanúel couldn’t say for certain if it had been him who forced his way into the woman’s flat. So it was difficult to justify a two-week extension on the detention order, as Marta would have preferred. She had trouble admitting that the police were back at square one.

She went and got herself a coffee, e-cigarette in hand, and started sucking and blowing. A young policeman in the break room said hello, then took his mug out into the corridor, as smoking got on his nerves. There he met a colleague who wanted to know if there was any coffee left. The young man nodded in the direction of the break room.

‘Ask the volcano.’

Just then, Marta appeared in the corridor. She was about to go back into her office with her coffee when she heard someone calling her. It was the officer she’d assigned to view the surveillance tapes. He said he’d found something that he wanted to show her.

Marta followed him into a room where three computer screens displayed the footage from Borgartún. The man asked Marta to sit down beside him, then started the video on one of the screens. Marta inhaled the nicotine and tried not to miss anything, until the image froze on a woman standing in front of the high-rise.

‘Is that her?’ the officer asked, handing Marta a photo of Valborg.

Marta stopped vaping, compared the photo with the woman on the screen and saw immediately that it was Valborg. She nodded and the recording continued from the point when Valborg first appeared. She walked determinedly towards the building from the east, but just before she reached the door she hesitated and then stopped. People walked past her in and out of the building, while she stood there looking up at the tall glass facade, staring straight into the camera for a moment without seeming to realise it and then fixing her gaze on the door, which opened and closed automatically. People continued to go in and out of the building, but she stood there, uncertain and hesitant. A short while passed like that before Valborg turned and disappeared from the view of the cameras.

‘That’s her,’ Marta said.

The officer rewound and the footage froze on Valborg’s face as she stared at the automatic door, and Marta felt from her expression that this wasn’t just some ordinary reluctance or diffidence on the woman’s part.

It was as if Valborg didn’t dare step into the building.

There was a knock on the door and the young man stuck his head in the doorway and said that someone out front was asking for Marta.

‘Who is it?’ Marta asked.

‘A woman in sunglasses,’ said the man.

When Marta came to the front desk, she saw the woman she’d urged to contact her if she wanted to report domestic violence. She was sitting dejectedly on a chair, but got up when she saw Marta and took off her sunglasses. She and Marta looked into each other’s eyes before Marta took her by the arm and walked her to her office.