Voices. Part 1

Voices.

by ARNALDUR INDRIDASON.

But when winter comes, where will I find the flowers, the sunshine, the shadows of the earth?

The walls stand speechless and cold, the weathervanes rattle in the wind.From 'At the Middle of Life' by Friedrich Holderlin (translated by James Mitch.e.l.l)

At last the moment arrived. The curtain went up, the auditorium unfolded; he felt glorious seeing all the people watching him and his shyness vanished in an instant. He saw some of his schoolmates and teachers, and the headmaster who seemed to nod approvingly at him. But most of them were strangers. All these people had come to listen to him and his beautiful voice, which had commanded attention, even outside Iceland.The murmuring in the auditorium gradually died down and all eyes focused on him in silent expectation.He saw his father sitting in the middle of the front row in his black horn-rimmed gla.s.ses, his legs crossed, and holding his hat on his knees. He saw him watching through the thick lenses and smiling encouragingly; this was the big moment in their lives. From now on, nothing would ever be the same.The choirmaster raised his arms. Silence descended upon the auditorium.And he began to sing with the clear, sweet voice that his father had described as divine.

FIRST DAY

1

Elinborg was waiting for them at the hotel.A large Christmas tree stood in the lobby and there were decorations, fir branches and glittering baubles all around. 'Silent night, holy night', over an invisible sound system. A large shuttle coach stood in front of the hotel and a group approached the reception desk. Tourists who were planning to spend Christmas and the New Year in Iceland because it seemed to them like an adventurous and exciting country. Although they had only just landed, many had apparently already bought traditional Icelandic sweaters, and they checked into the exotic land of winter. Erlendur brushed the sleet off his raincoat. Sigurdur oli looked around the lobby and caught sight of Elinborg by the lifts. He tugged at Erlendur and they walked over to her. She had examined the scene. The first police officers to arrive there had made sure that it would remain untouched.The hotel manager had asked them not to cause a fracas. Used that phrase when he rang. This was a hotel and hotels thrive on their reputations, and he asked them to take that into account. So there were no sirens outside, nor uniformed policemen bursting in through the lobby. The manager said that at all costs they should avoid arousing fear among the guests.Iceland mustn't be too exciting, too much of an adventure.Now he was standing next to Elinborg and greeted Erlendur and Sigurdur oli with a handshake. He was so fat that his suit hardly encompa.s.sed his body. His jacket was done up across the stomach by one b.u.t.ton that was on the verge of giving up. The top of his trousers was hidden beneath a huge paunch that bulged out of his jacket and the man sweated so furiously that he could never put away the large white handkerchief with which he mopped his forehead and the back of his neck at regular intervals. The white collar of his shirt was soaked in perspiration. Erlendur shook his clammy hand.'Thank you,' the hotel manager said, puffing like a grampus. In his twenty years of managing the hotel he had never encountered anything like this.'In the middle of the Christmas rush,' he groaned. 'I can't understand how this could happen! How could it happen?' he repeated, leaving them in no doubt as to how totally perplexed he was.'Is he up or down?' Erlendur asked.'Up or down?' the fat manager puffed. 'Do you mean whether he's gone to heaven?''Yes,' Erlendur said. 'That's exactly what we need to know...''Shall we take the lift upstairs?' Sigurdur oli asked.'No,' the manager said, casting an irritated look at Erlendur. 'He's down here in the bas.e.m.e.nt. He's got a little room there. We didn't want to chuck him out. And then you get this for your troubles.''Why would you have wanted to chuck him out?' Erlendur asked.The hotel manager looked at him but did not reply.They walked slowly down the stairs beside the lift. The manager went first. Going down the stairs was a strain for him and Erlendur wondered how he would get back up.Apart from Erlendur, they had agreed to show a certain amount of consideration, to try to approach the hotel as discreetly as possible. Three police cars were parked at the back, with an ambulance. Police officers and paramedics had gone in through the back door. The district medical officer was on his way. He would certify the death and call out a van to transport the body.They walked down a long corridor with the panting manager leading the way. Plain-clothes policemen greeted them. The corridor grew darker the further they walked, because the light bulbs on the ceiling had blown and no one had bothered to change them. Eventually, in the darkness, they reached the door, which opened onto a little room. It was more like a storage s.p.a.ce than a dwelling, but there was a narrow bed inside, a small desk and a tattered mat on the dirty tiled floor. There was a little window up near the ceiling.The man was sitting on the bed, leaning against the wall. He was wearing a bright red Santa suit and still had the Santa cap on his head, but it had slipped down over his eyes. A large artificial Santa beard hid his face. He had undone the thick belt around his waist and unb.u.t.toned his jacket. Beneath it he was wearing only a white vest. There was a fatal wound to his heart. Although there were other wounds on the body, the stabbing through the heart had finished him off. His hands had slash marks on them, as if he had tried to fight off the a.s.sailant. His trousers were down round his ankles. A condom hung from his p.e.n.i.s.'Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer,' Sigurdur oli warbled, looking down at the body.Elinborg hushed him.In the room was a small wardrobe and the door was open. It contained folded trousers and sweaters, ironed shirts, underwear and socks. A uniform hung on a coat-hanger, navy blue with golden epaulettes and shiny bra.s.s b.u.t.tons. A pair of smartly-polished black leather shoes stood beside the cupboard.Newspapers and magazines were strewn over the floor. Beside the bed was a small table and lamp. On the table was a single book: A History of the Vienna Boys' Choir. A History of the Vienna Boys' Choir.'Did he live here, this man?' Erlendur asked as he surveyed the scene. He and Elinborg had entered the room. Sigurdur oli and the hotel manager were standing outside. It was too small for them all inside.'We let him stay here,' the manager said awkwardly, mopping the sweat from his brow. 'He's been working for us for donkey's years. Since before my time. As a doorman.''Was the door open when he was found?' Sigurdur oli asked, trying to be formal, as if to compensate for his little ditty.'I asked her to wait for you,' the manager said. "The girl who found him. She's in the staff coffee room. Gave her quite a shock, poor thing, as you can imagine.' The manager avoided looking into the room.Erlendur walked up to the body and peered at the wound to the heart. He had no idea what kind of blade had killed the man. He looked up. Above the bed was an old, faded poster for a Shirley Temple film, sellotaped at the corners. Erlendur didn't know the film. It was called The Little Princess. The Little Princess. The poster was the only decoration in the room. The poster was the only decoration in the room.'Who's that?' Sigurdur oli asked from the doorway as he looked at the poster.'It says on it,' Erlendur said. 'Shirley Temple.''Who's that then? Is she dead?''Who's Shirley Temple?' Elinborg was astonished at Sigurdur oli's ignorance. 'Don't you know who she was? Didn't you study in America?''Was she a Hollywood star?' Sigurdur oli asked, still looking at the poster.'She was a child star,' Erlendur said curtly. 'So she's dead in a sense anyway.''Eh?' Sigurdur oli said, failing to grasp the remark.'A child star,' Elinborg said. 'I think she's still alive. I don't remember. I think she's something with the United Nations'It dawned on Erlendur that there were no other personal effects in the room. He looked around but could see no bookshelf, CDs or computer, no radio or television. Only a desk, chair, wardrobe and bed with a scruffy pillow and dirty duvet cover. The little room reminded him of a prison cell.He went out into the corridor and peered into the darkness at the far end, and could make out a faint smell of burning, as if someone had been playing with matches there or possibly lighting their way.'What's down there?' he asked the manager.'Nothing,' he replied and looked up at the ceiling. 'Just the end of the corridor. A couple of bulbs have gone. I'll have that fixed.''How long had he lived here, this man?' Erlendur asked as he went back into the room.'I don't know, since before my time.''So he was here when you became the manager?''Yes.''Are you telling me he lived in this hole for twenty years?''Yes.'Elinborg looked at the condom.'At least he practised safe s.e.x,' she said.'Not safe enough,' Sigurdur oli said.At that point the district medical officer arrived, accompanied by a member of the hotel staff who then went back along the corridor. The medical officer was very fat too, although nowhere near a match for the hotel manager. When he squeezed into the room, Elinborg darted back out for air.'h.e.l.lo, Erlendur,' the medical officer said.'What does it look like?' Erlendur asked.'Heart attack, but I need a better look,' replied the medical officer, who was known for his appalling sense of humour.Erlendur looked out at Sigurdur oli and Elinborg, who were grinning from ear to ear.'Do you know when it happened?' Erlendur asked.'Can't be very long ago. Some time during the last two hours. He's hardly begun to go cold. Have you located his reindeer?'Erlendur groaned.The medical officer lifted his hand from the body.'I'll sign the certificate,' he said. 'You send it to the mortuary and they'll open him up there. They say that o.r.g.a.s.m is a kind of moment of death,' he added, looking down at the body. 'So he had a double.''A double?' Erlendur didn't understand him.'o.r.g.a.s.m, I mean,' the medical officer said. 'You'll take photographs, won't you?''Yes,' Erlendur said.'They'll look nice in his family alb.u.m.''He doesn't appear to have any family,' Erlendur said and looked around the room again. 'So you're done for the time being?' he asked, eager to put an end to the wisecracks.The district medical officer nodded, squeezed back out of the room and went down the corridor.'Won't we have to close down the hotel?' Elinborg asked, and noticed the manager gasp at her question. 'Stop all traffic in and out. Question everyone staying here and all the staff? Close the airports. Stop ships leaving port...''For G.o.d's sake,' the manager groaned, squeezing his handkerchief with an imploring look at Erlendur. 'It's only the doorman!'Mary and Joseph would never have been given a room here, Erlendur thought to himself.'This ... this ... filth has nothing to do with my guests,' the manager spluttered with indignation. 'They're tourists, almost all of them, and regional people, businessmen and the like. No one who has anything to do with the doorman. No one. This is one of the largest hotels in Reykjavik. It's packed over the holidays. You can't just close it down! You just can't!''We could, but we won't,' Erlendur said, trying to calm the manager down. 'We'll need to question some of the guests and most of the staff, I expect.''Thank G.o.d,' the manager sighed, regaining his composure.'What was the man's name?''Gudlaugur,' the manager said. 'I think he's around fifty. And you're right about his family, I don't think he has any.''Who visited him?''I haven't got a clue,' the manager puffed.'Has anything unusual happened at the hotel involving this man?''No.''Theft?''No. Nothing's happened.''Complaints?''No.''He hasn't become embroiled in anything that could explain this?''Not as far as I know.''Was he involved in any conflicts with anyone at this hotel?''Not that I know of'Outside the hotel?''Not that I know of but I don't know him very well. Didn't,' the manager corrected himself.'Not after twenty years?''No, not really. He wasn't very sociable, I don't think. Kept himself to himself as much as he could.''Do you think a hotel is the right place for a man like him?''Me? I don't know ... He was always very polite and there were never really any complaints about him.''Never really?''No, there were never any complaints about him. He wasn't a bad worker really?'Where's the staff coffee room?' Erlendur asked.'I'll show you.' The hotel manager mopped his brow, relieved that they would not close the hotel.'Did he have guests?' Erlendur asked.'What?' the manager said.'Guests,' Erlendur repeated. 'It looks like someone who knew him was here, don't you think?'The manager looked at the body and his eyes dwelled on the condom.'I don't know anything about his girlfriends,' he said. 'Nothing at all.''You don't know very much about this man,' Erlendur said.'He's a doorman here,' the manager said, and felt that Erlendur should accept that by way of explanation.They left the room. The forensics team went in with their equipment and more officers followed them. It was difficult for them all to squeeze their way past the manager. Erlendur asked them to examine the corridor carefully and the dark alcove further down. Sigurdur oli and Elinborg stood inside the little room observing the body.'I wouldn't like to be found like that,' Sigurdur oli said.'It's no concern of his any more,' Elinborg said.'No, probably not,' Sigurdur oh said.'Is there anything in it?' Elinborg asked as she took out a little bag of salted peanuts. She was always nibbling at things. Sigurdur oli thought it was because of nerves.'In it?' Sigurdur oli said.She nodded in the direction of the body. After staring at her for a moment, Sigurdur oli realised what she meant. He hesitated, then knelt down by the body and stared at the condom.'No,' he said. 'It's empty''So she killed him before his o.r.g.a.s.m,' Elinborg said. 'The doctor thought-''She?' Sigurdur oli said.'Yes, isn't that obvious?' Elinborg said, emptying a handful of peanuts into her mouth. She offered some to Sigurdur oli, who declined. 'Isn't there something tarty about it? He's had a woman in here,' she said. 'Hasn't he?''That's the simplest theory,' Sigurdur oli said, standing up.'You don't think so?' Elinborg said.'I don't know. I don't have the faintest idea.'

2

The staff coffee room had little in common with the hotel's splendid lobby and well-appointed rooms. There were no Christmas decorations, no Christmas carols, only a few shabby kitchen tables and chairs, linoleum on the floor, torn in one place, and in one corner stood a kitchenette with cupboards, a coffee machine and a refrigerator. It was as if no one ever tidied up there. There were coffee stains on the tables and dirty cups all around. The ancient coffee machine was switched on and burped water.Several hotel employees were sitting in a semicircle around a young girl who was still traumatised after finding the body. She had been crying and black mascara was smudged down her cheeks. She looked up when Erlendur entered with the hotel manager.'Here she is,' the manager said as if she were guilty of intruding upon the sanct.i.ty of Christmas, and shooed the other staff out. Erlendur ushered him out after them, saying he wanted to talk to the girl in private. The manager looked at him in surprise but did not protest, muttering about having plenty of other things to do. Erlendur closed the door behind him.The girl wiped the mascara off her cheeks and looked at Erlendur, uncertain what to expect. Erlendur smiled, pulled up a chair and sat facing her. She was around the same age as his own daughter, in her early twenties, nervous and still in shock from what she had seen. Her hair was black and she was slim, dressed in the hotel chambermaid's uniform, a light blue coat. A name tag was attached to her breast pocket. osp.'Have you been working here long?' Erlendur asked.'Almost a year,' osp said in a low voice. She looked at him. He did not give the impression that he would give her a hard time. With a snuffle she straightened up in her chair. Finding the body had clearly had a strong effect on her. She trembled slightly. Her name osp meaning aspen suited her, Erlendur thought to himself. She was like a twig in the wind.'And do you like working here?' Erlendur asked.'No,' she said.'So why do you?''You have to work.''What's so bad about it?'She looked at him as if he did not need to ask.'I change the beds,' she said. 'Clean the toilets. Vacuum. But it's still better than a supermarket.''What about the people?''The manager's a creep.''He's like a fire hydrant with a leak.'osp smiled.'And some of the guests think you're only here for them to grope.''Why did you go down to the bas.e.m.e.nt?' Erlendur asked.'To fetch Santa. The kids were waiting for him.''Which kids?''At the Christmas ball. We have a Christmas party for the staff. For their children and any kids who are staying at the hotel, and he was playing Santa. When he didn't show up I was sent to fetch him.''That can't have been pleasant.''I've never seen a dead body before. And that condom.' osp tried to drive the image out of her mind.'Did he have any girlfriends at the hotel?''None that I know of?'Do you know about any contacts of his outside the hotel?''I don't know anything about that man, though I've seen more of him than I should of!'Should have,' Erlendur corrected her.'What?''You're supposed to say "should have", not "should of".'She gave him a pitying look.'Do you think it matters?''Yes, I do,' Erlendur said.He shook his head, a remote expression on his face.'Was the door open when you found him?'osp thought'No, I opened it. I knocked and got no reply, so I waited and was just going to leave when it occurred to me to open the door. I thought it was locked but then it suddenly opened and he was sitting there naked with a rubber on his...''Why did you think it would be locked?' Erlendur hurried to say. 'The door.''I just did. I knew it was his room.''Did you see anyone when you went down to fetch him?''No, no one.''So he'd got ready for the Christmas party, but someone came down and disturbed him. He was wearing his Santa suit.'osp shrugged.'Who did his bed?''What do you mean?''Who changed the linen? It hasn't been done for a long time.''I don't know. He must have done it himself?'You must have been shocked.''It was a revolting sight,' osp said.'I know,' Erlendur said. 'You should try to forget it as quickly as possible. If you can. Was he a good Santa?'The girl looked at him.'What?' Erlendur said.'I don't believe in Santa.'The lady who organised the Christmas party was smartly dressed, short and, Erlendur thought, around thirty. She said she was the hotel's marketing and PR manager, but Erlendur could not have been less interested; most of the people he met these days were marketing-somethings. She had an office on the second floor and Erlendur found her on the phone there. The media had got wind of an incident at the hotel and Erlendur imagined she was telling lies to a reporter. The conversation came to a very abrupt end. The woman slammed down the phone with the words that she had absolutely no comment to make.Erlendur introduced himself, shook her dry hand and asked her when she had last spoken to the, aahemm, man in the bas.e.m.e.nt. He did not know whether to say doorman or Santa, he had forgotten his name. He felt he could hardly say Santa.'Gulli?' she said, solving the problem. 'It was just this morning, to remind him of the Christmas party. I met him by the revolving doors. He was working. He was a doorman here as you perhaps know. And more than a doorman, a caretaker really. Mended things and all that.''Easy-going?''Pardon?''Helpful, easy-going, didn't need much nagging?''I don't know. Does that matter? He never did anything for me. Or rather, I never needed his help.''Why was he playing Santa? Was he fond of children? Funny? Fun?''That goes back before I started here. I've been working here for three years and this is the third Christmas party I've organised. He was the Santa the other two times and before that too. He was OK. As Santa. The kids liked him.'Gudlaugur's death did not seem to have had the slightest effect on the woman. It was none of her business. All that the murder did was to disturb the marketing and PR for a while. Erlendur wondered how people could be so insensitive and boring.'But what sort of person was he?''I don't know. I never got to know him. He was a doorman here. And the Santa. That was really the only time I ever spoke to him. When he was the Santa.''What happened to the Christmas party? When you found out that Santa was dead?''We called it off. Nothing else for it. Also out of respect for him,' she added, as if to show a hint of feeling at last. It was futile. Erlendur could tell that she could not care less about the body in the bas.e.m.e.nt.'Who knew this man best?' he asked. 'Here at the hotel, I mean.''I don't know. Try talking to the head of reception. The doorman worked for him.'The telephone on her desk rang and she answered it. She gave Erlendur a look implying that he was in her way, and he stood up and walked out, thinking that she could not go on telling lies over the phone for ever.The reception manager had no time to deal with Erlendur. Tourists swarmed around the front desk and even though three other employees were helping to check them in, they could hardly handle the crowd. Erlendur watched them looking at pa.s.sports, handing over key cards, smiling and moving on to the next guest. The crowd stretched back to the revolving doors. Through them Erlendur saw yet another tourist shuttle stop outside the hotel.Policemen, most of them in plain clothes, were all over the building questioning the staff. A makeshift incident centre had been set up in the staff coffee room in the bas.e.m.e.nt, from where the investigation was managed.Erlendur contemplated the Christmas decorations in the lobby. A sentimental Christmas tune was playing over the sound system. He walked over to the large restaurant to one side of the lobby. The first guests were lining up around a splendid Christmas buffet. He walked past the table and admired the herring, smoked lamb, cold ham, ox tongue and all the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs, and the delicious desserts, ice cream, cream cakes and chocolate mousse, or whatever it was.Erlendur's mouth watered. He had eaten almost nothing all day.He looked all around and, almost too fast to be seen, popped a bite of spicy ox tongue into his mouth. He did not think anyone had noticed, and his heart leaped when he heard a sharp voice behind him.'No, listen, that's not on. You mustn't do that!'Erlendur turned round and a man wearing a large chef's hat walked up to him glaring.'What's that supposed to mean, picking at the food? What kind of manners do you call that?''Take it easy,' Erlendur said, reaching for a plate. He began piling an a.s.sortment of delicacies onto the plate as if he had always intended to have the buffet.'Did you know Santa Claus?' he asked to change the subject from the ox tongue.'Santa Claus?' the cook said. 'What Santa Claus? And please don't put your fingers on the food. It's not-''Gudlaugur,' Erlendur interrupted him. 'Did you know him? He was a doorman and jack of all trades here, I'm told.''You mean Gulli?''Yes, Gulli.' Erlendur repeated his nickname as he put a generous slice of cold ham on his plate and a dash of yoghurt sauce over it. He wondered whether to call in Elinborg to appraise the buffet; she was a gourmet and had been a.s.sembling a book of recipes for many years.'No, I... what do you mean by "did I know him"?' the cook asked.'You haven't heard?''What? Is something wrong?''He's dead. Murdered. Hasn't word got around yet?''Murdered?' the cook groaned. 'Murdered! What, here? Who are you?''In his little room. Down in the bas.e.m.e.nt. I'm from the police.'Erlendur went on choosing goodies to put on his plate. The cook had forgotten the ox tongue.'How was he murdered?''The least said the better.''At the hotel?''Yes.'The cook looked all around.'I don't believe it,' he said. 'Won't there be h.e.l.l to pay?''Yes,' Erlendur said. 'There will be h.e.l.l to pay?He knew that the hotel would never be able to shake off the murder. It would never wipe away the smear. After this it would always be known as the hotel where Santa was found dead with a condom on his p.e.n.i.s.'Did you know him?' Erlendur asked. 'Gulli?''No, hardly at all. He was a doorman here and fixed all sorts of stuff?'Fixed?''Yes, mended. I didn't know him at all.''Do you know who knew him best here?''No,' the cook said. 'I don't know anything about the man. Who could have murdered him? Here? At the hotel? My G.o.d!'Erlendur could tell that he was more worried about the hotel than about the murdered man. He considered telling him that the murder might boost the occupancy rate. That's the way people think these days. They could even advertise the hotel as a murder scene. Develop crime-based tourism. But he could not be bothered. He wanted to sit down with his plate and eat the food. Have a moment's peace.Sigurdur oli turned up out of nowhere.'Did you find anything?' Erlendur asked.'No,' Sigurdur oli said, looking at the cook, who hurried off to the kitchen with the news. 'Are you eating now?' he added with indignation.'Oh, don't give me any c.r.a.p. There was a compromising situation.''That man owned nothing, or if he did, he didn't keep it in his room,' Sigurdur oli said. 'Elinborg found a couple of old records in his wardrobe. That was the lot. Shouldn't we shut down the hotel?''Shut down the hotel, what kind of nonsense is that?' Erlendur said. 'How are you going to go about shutting down this hotel? And how long do you plan to do that for? Are you going to send a search team into every room?''No, but the murderer could be one of the guests. We can't ignore that.''That's absolutely uncertain. There are two possibilities. Either he's at the hotel, a guest or an employee, or he's nothing to do with the hotel. What we need to do is to talk to all the staff and everyone who checks out over the next couple of days, especially those who check out earlier than they had planned, although I doubt that the person who did it would try to draw attention to himself like that.''No, right. I was thinking about the condom,' Sigurdur oli said.Erlendur looked for a vacant table, found one and sat down. Sigurdur oli sat down with him and looked at the heaped plate, and his mouth began watering too.'Well, if it's a woman she's still of child-bearing age, isn't she? Because of the condom.''Yes, that would have been the case twenty years ago,' Erlendur said, savouring the lightly smoked ham. 'Nowadays a condom's more than just a contraceptive. It's protection against b.l.o.o.d.y everything, chlamydia, Aids ...''The condom might also tell us that he wasn't very well acquainted with the ... the person who was in his room. That it must have been a quickie. If he'd known the person well he may not have used a condom.''We must remember that the condom doesn't rule out that he was with a man,' Erlendur said.'What kind of implement could it be? The murder weapon?''We'll see what comes out of the autopsy. Obviously there's no problem getting hold of a knife at this hotel, if it was someone from here who attacked him.''Is that nice?' Sigurdur oli asked. He had been watching Erlendur devouring the food and was sorely tempted to get some for himself but was afraid of causing even more of a scandal: two cops investigating a murder at a hotel, who sat down at the buffet as if nothing had happened.'I forgot to check whether there was anything in it,' Erlendur said between bites.'Do you think you ought to be eating at the murder scene?''This is a hotel.''Yes, but...''I told you, I ran into a compromising situation. This was the only way to get out of it. Was there anything in it? The condom?''Empty,' Sigurdur oli said.'The medical officer thought he'd had an o.r.g.a.s.m. Twice in fact, but I didn't really catch how he came to that conclusion.''I don't know anyone who can work out what he's talking about''So the murder was committed in full swing.''Yes. Something happened when everything was hunky dory''If everything was hunky dory, why take along a knife?''Maybe it was part of the game.''What game?''s.e.x has become much more complex than just the old missionary position,' Sigurdur oli said. 'So it could be anyone?''Anyone,' Erlendur said. 'Why do they always talk about the missionary position? What's the mission?''I don't know.' Sigurdur oli sighed. Sometimes Erlendur asked questions that irritated him because they were so simple but at the same time so infinitely complicated and dull.'Is it something from Africa?''Or Catholicism,' Sigurdur oli said.'Why missionary?''I don't know.'"The condom doesn't rule out either s.e.x,' Erlendur said. 'Let's establish that. The condom doesn't rule out anything. Did you ask the manager why he wanted rid of Santa Claus?''No, did he want rid of Santa?''He mentioned it without any explanation. We have to find out what he meant.''I'll jot that down,' said Sigurdur oli, who always carried around a notepad and pencil.'And then there's one group that uses condoms more than other people.''Really?' Sigurdur oli said, his face one huge question mark.'Prost.i.tutes.''Prost.i.tutes?' Sigurdur oli repeated. 'Hookers? Do you think there are any here?'Erlendur nodded.'They do a lot of missionary work at hotels.'Sigurdur oli stood up and dawdled in front of Erlendur, who had finished his plate and was eyeing up the buffet again.'Ehmmm, where will you be spending Christmas?' Sigurdur oli asked awkwardly.'Christmas?' Erlendur said. 'I'll be ... what do you mean, where will I be spending Christmas? Where should I spend Christmas? What business of yours is that?'Sigurdur oli hesitated, then took the plunge.'Bergthora was wondering if you'd be on your own.''Eva Lind has some plans. What did Bergthora mean? That I should visit you?''I don't know,' Sigurdur oli said. 'Women! Who ever understands them?' Then he sauntered away from the table and down to the bas.e.m.e.nt.Elinborg was standing in front of the murdered man's room, watching the forensics team at work, when Sigurdur oli came walking down the dim corridor.'Where's Erlendur?' she asked, throttling her little bag of peanuts.'At the buffet,' Sigurdur oli said peevishly.A preliminary test made that evening revealed that the condom was covered with saliva.

3

Forensics contacted Erlendur as soon as the biopsy results were available. He was still at the hotel. For a while the scene of the crime looked like a photographer's studio. Flashes lit up the dim corridor at regular intervals. The body was photographed from all angles, along with everything found in Gudlaugur's room. The corpse was then transported to the morgue on Baronsstigur where the postmortem would be performed. Forensics had combed the doorman's room for fingerprints and found many sets, which would be checked against the police records. All the hotel staff were to be fingerprinted and the forensics team's discovery also meant that saliva samples would have to be taken.'What about the guests?' Elinborg asked. 'Won't we have to do the same with them?'She yearned to get home and regretted the question; she wanted to finish her shift. Elinborg took Christmas very seriously and missed her family. She hung up fir branches and decorations all around her home. She baked delicious cookies, which she stored in her Tupperware boxes, carefully labelled by variety. Her Christmas roast was legendary, even outside her extended family. The main course every Christmas was a Swedish-style leg of pork, which she kept outside on the balcony to marinate for twelve days, and tended it just as carefully as if it had been the baby Jesus in swaddling clothes.'I think we have to a.s.sume, initially, that the murderer is an Icelander,' Erlendur said. 'Let's keep the guests in reserve. The hotel is filling up for Christmas now and few people are checking out. We'll talk to the ones who do, take saliva samples, even fingerprints. We can't prevent them from leaving the country. They would have to be prime suspects for us to do that. And we need a list of the foreigners staying at the hotel at the time of the murder, we'll forget about the ones who check in afterwards. Let's try to keep it simple.''But what if it isn't that simple?' Elinborg asked.'I don't think any of the guests know there was a murder,' said Sigurdur oli, who wanted to get home too. Bergthora, his partner, had phoned him towards evening and asked if he was on his way. It was exactly the right time now and she was waiting for him, she had said. Sigurdur oli knew immediately what she meant by 'the right time'. They were trying to have a baby but nothing was happening and he had told Erlendur that they were beginning to talk about IVF.'Don't you have to give them a jarful?' Erlendur asked.'A jarful?' Sigurdur oli said.'In the mornings?'Sigurdur oli looked at Erlendur until he realised what he meant.'I should never have told you,' he growled.Erlendur sipped his foul-tasting coffee. The three of them were sitting by themselves in the staff coffee room in the bas.e.m.e.nt. All the commotion was over, the police officers and forensics team had left, the room was sealed off. Erlendur was in no hurry. He had no one to go to, only his gloomy apartment in a block of flats. Christmas meant nothing to him. He had a few days holiday owing and nothing to do with them. Perhaps his daughter would visit him and they would boil smoked lamb. Sometimes her brother came with her. And Erlendur sat and read, which he always did anyway.'You ought to get yourselves home,' he said. 'I'm going to potter around a little longer. Find out whether I can't talk to that head of reception who never has the time.'Elinborg and Sigurdur oli stood up.'Will you be OK?' Elinborg asked. 'Why don't you just go home? Christmas is coming and-''What's with you and Sigurdur oli? Why don't you leave me in peace?''It's Christmas,' Elinborg said with a sigh. Dithered. Then she said, 'Forget it.' She and Sigurdur oli turned round and left the coffee room.Erlendur sat for a good while, sunk in thought. He pondered Sigurdur oli's question about where he was going to spend Christmas, and mulled over Elinborg's thoughtfulness. He saw an image of his flat, the armchair, the battered old television set and the books lining the walls.Sometimes he bought a bottle of Chartreuse at Christmas and had a gla.s.s beside him while he read about ordeals and death in the days when people travelled everywhere on foot and Christmas could be the most treacherous time of the year. Determined to visit their loved ones, people would battle with the forces of nature, go astray and perish; for those awaiting them back home, Christmas turned from a celebration of salvation to a nightmare. The bodies of some travellers were found. Others were not. They were never found. These were Erlendur's Christmas carols.The head of reception had taken off his hotel jacket and was putting on his raincoat when Erlendur located him in the cloakroom. He said he was exhausted and wanted to get home to his family like everyone else. He had heard about the murder, yes, terrible, but did not know how he could be of a.s.sistance.'I understand you knew him better than most people at the hotel,' Erlendur said.'No, I don't think that's right,' the head of reception said as he wrapped a thick scarf around his neck. 'Who told you that?''He worked for you, didn't he?' Erlendur replied, ignoring the question.'Worked for me, yes, probably. He was a doorman, I'm in charge of the reception, the check-in, as you may know. Do you know how long the shops are open tonight?'He gave the impression of not being particularly interested in Erlendur and his questions, which irritated the detective. And it irritated him that no one seemed to care in the slightest about the fate the man in the bas.e.m.e.nt had met.'Round the clock, I don't know. Who could have wanted to stab your doorman in the chest?''Mine? He wasn't my doorman. He was the hotel's doorman.''And why did he have his trousers round his ankles and a condom on his todger? Who was with him? Who normally came to visit him? Who were his friends at the hotel? Who were his friends outside the hotel? Who were his enemies? Why was he living at this hotel? What was the deal? What are you hiding? Why can't you answer me like a decent human being?''Hey, I, what...?' The man fell silent. 'I just want to get home,' he said eventually. 'I don't know the answers to all those questions. Christmas is coming. Can we talk tomorrow? I haven't had a moment's rest all day.'Erlendur looked at him.'We'll talk tomorrow,' he said. As he left the cloakroom he suddenly remembered the question that had been vexing him ever since he met the hotel manager. He turned round. The man was on his way out through the door when Erlendur called to him.'Why did you want to get rid of him?''What?''You wanted to get rid of him. Santa. Why?'The reception manager hesitated.'He'd been sacked.'Erlendur found the hotel manager sitting down to a meal. He was at a large table in the kitchen, wearing a chef's ap.r.o.n and devouring the contents of the half-empty trays that had been brought in from the buffet.'You can't imagine how I love eating,' he said, wiping his mouth, when he noticed Erlendur staring at him. 'In peace,' he added.'I know exactly what you mean,' Erlendur said.They were alone in the large, polished kitchen. Erlendur could only admire him. He ate quickly, but deftly and without greed. There was something almost elegant about the motions of his hands. One bite after another disappeared inside him, smoothly and with a visible pa.s.sion.He was calmer now that the body had been removed from the hotel and the police had gone, along with the reporters who had been standing outside the hotel; the police had ordered them to stay out, the entire building was deemed a crime scene. The hotel was returning to business as normal. Very few tourists knew about the body in the bas.e.m.e.nt, but many noticed the police activity and asked about it. The manager instructed his staff to say something about an old man and a heart attack.'I know what you're thinking. You think I'm a pig, don't you?' he said, pausing to take a sip of red wine. His little finger darted out, the size of a c.o.c.ktail sausage.'No, but I do understand why you want to run a hotel,' Erlendur said. Then he lost his patience. 'You're killing yourself, you know that,' he said brashly.'I weigh 180 kilos,' the manager said. 'Farmed pigs don't get much heavier. I've always been fat. Never known otherwise. Never been on a diet. I've never been able to think of changing my lifestyle, as they say. I feel good. Better than you, from the look of things,' he added.Erlendur remembered hearing that fat people were supposed to be jollier than skinny people. He did not believe it himself.'Better than me?' he said with a hint of a smile. 'You're the last person to judge. Why did you sack the doorman?'The manager had resumed eating and some time pa.s.sed before he put down his knife and fork. Erlendur waited patiently. He could see the manager weighing up the best answer, how to phrase it, given that he had found out about the dismissal.'We haven't been doing too well,' he said eventually. 'We're overbooked in the summer and there's always plenty of traffic over Christmas and the New Year, but then come dead periods that can be d.a.m.ned difficult. The owners said we had to cut back. Lay off staff. I didn't think it was necessary to have a full-time doorman all year round.''But I'm told he was much more than just a doorman. Santa Claus, for example. A jack of all trades. Mended things. More like a caretaker.'The manager had gone back to feeding his face yet again and another break in their conversation ensued. Erlendur looked around. After taking down their names and addresses, the police had allowed the staff who had finished their shifts to go home; it had still not been established who was the last person to talk to the victim, nor what happened on the last day of his life. No one had noticed anything unusual about Santa. No one had seen anybody go down to the bas.e.m.e.nt. No one knew of him ever having visitors there. Only a couple of people knew that he lived there permanently, that the little room was his home, and apparently they wanted to know as little as possible about him. Very few said they knew him and he did not seem to have had any friends at the hotel. Nor did the employees know about any friends of his outside it.A real Lone Wolf, Erlendur thought to himself.'No one is indispensable,' the manager said, his sausagelike finger protruding again as he took another sip of red wine. 'Of course, firing people is never fun, but we can't afford to have a doorman all year. That's why he was sacked. No other reason. And there wasn't really much door-manning to do. He put on his uniform when film stars or foreign dignitaries came, and he threw out undesirables.''Did he take it badly? Being sacked?''He understood, I think.''Are any knives missing from the kitchen?' Erlendur asked.'I don't know. We lose knives and forks and gla.s.ses worth hundreds of thousands of kronur every year. And towels and ... Do you think he was stabbed with a knife from the kitchen?''I don't know.'Erlendur watched the manager eat.'He worked here for twenty years and no one knew him. Don't you find that unusual?''Employees come and go,' the manager shrugged. 'There's a high staff turnover in this business. I think people knew about him, but who knows who? Don't ask me. I don't know anyone here that well.''You've stayed put through all these staff changes''I'm difficult to move.''Why did you talk about chucking him out?''Did I say that?''Yes.''Then it was just a turn of phrase. I didn't mean anything by it.''But you'd sacked him and were going to chuck him out,' Erlendur said. "Then someone comes along and kills him. It hasn't exactly been going well for him recently.'The manager acted as though Erlendur was not even there while he filled himself with cakes and mousse with his delicate, gourmandising motions, trying to savour the treats.'Why was he still here if you'd sacked him?''He was supposed to leave at the end of last month. I'd been hurrying him along, but didn't pressure him. I should have. Then I'd have avoided this nonsense.'Erlendur watched the manager scoffing his food, and said nothing. Maybe it was the buffet. Maybe the gloomy block of flats. Maybe the time of year. The microwave dinner waiting for him at home. The lonely Christmas. Erlendur did not know. Somehow the question just came out. Before he knew it.'A room?' the manager said, as if not understanding what Erlendur meant.'It doesn't have to be anything special,' Erlendur said.'You mean for you?''A single room is fine,' Erlendur said.'We're fully booked. Unfortunately' The hotel manager stared at Erlendur. He didn't want to have the detective over him day and night."The head of reception said there was a vacant room,' Erlendur lied, more firmly now. 'He said it was no problem if I just talked to you.'The manager stared at him. Looked down at his unfinished mousse. Then he pushed the plate away, his appet.i.te ruined.It was cold in the room. Erlendur stood gazing out of the window, but saw nothing apart from his own reflection in the gla.s.s. He hadn't looked that man in the face for some time and he noticed in the darkness how he was ageing. Snowflakes fell cautiously to the ground, as if the heavens had split open and their dust was being strewn over the world.A little book of verse that he owned suddenly entered his mind, exceptionally elegant translations of poems by Holderlin. He let his mind wander through them until he stopped at a line that he knew applied to the man looking back at him from the window.The walls stand speechless and cold, the weathervanes rattle in the wind.

4

He was falling asleep when he heard a tap on his door and a voice whispering his name.He knew at once who it was. When he opened the door he saw his daughter, Eva Lind, standing in the corridor. They looked each other in the eye, she smiled at him and slipped past him into the room. He closed the door. She sat down at the little desk and took out a packet of cigarettes.'I don't think you're allowed to smoke in here,' said Erlendur, who had obeyed the smoke-free policy.'Yeah, yeah,' Eva Lind said, fishing a cigarette out of the packet. 'Why's it so cold in here?''I think the radiator's broken.'Erlendur sat down on the side of the bed. Dressed only in his underpants, he pulled the quilt over his head and shoulders and wore it like a wrap.'What are you doing?' Eva Lind asked.'I'm cold,' Erlendur said.'I mean, the hotel room, why don't you just go home?' She inhaled deep into her lungs, almost a third of the cigarette frizzled away, and then she exhaled, filling the room with smoke.'I don't know. I don't...' Erlendur stopped.'Feel like getting yourself home?''Somehow it didn't seem right. A man was murdered in this hotel today, have you heard?''Santa Claus, wasn't it? Was he murdered?''The doorman. He was supposed to play Santa for the children in the hotel. How are you doing?''Great,' Eva Lind said.'Still at work?''Yes.'Erlendur watched her. She looked better. She was still as skinny as ever but the rings under her beautiful blue eyes had faded and her cheeks were not so sunken. He didn't think she had touched drugs for almost eight months. Not since she had a miscarriage and lay in a coma at the hospital, halfway between this world and the next. When she was discharged from the hospital she moved in with him and got herself a steady job for the first time in two years. For the past few months she had been renting a room in town.'How did you find out where I was?' Erlendur asked.'I couldn't get you on your mobile so I called the station and was told you had checked in to the hotel. What's going on? Why don't you go home?''I don't really know what to say,' Erlendur said. 'Christmas is a funny time.''Yeah,' Eva Lind said, and they fell silent.'Heard anything from your brother?' Erlendur asked.'Sindri's still working out of town,' Eva Lind said, and the cigarette hissed as it burned down to the filter. Ash dropped to the floor. She looked for an ashtray but couldn't see one, so she stood the cigarette up on end on the desk to let it burn out.'And your mother?' Erlendur said. It was always the same questions, and the answers were generally the same as well.'OK. Slaving away as usual.'Erlendur said nothing. Eva Lind watched the blue cigarette smoke curling up from the desk.'I don't know if I can hold out any longer,' she said, staring at the smoke.Erlendur looked up from beneath his quilt.There was a knock on the door and they exchanged looks of surprise. Eva stood up and opened the door. A member of staff was standing in the corridor, dressed in his hotel jacket. He said he worked at reception.'Smoking is prohibited here,' was the first thing he said when he looked inside the room.'I asked her to put it out,' Erlendur said, sitting in his underpants under the quilt. 'She's never listened to me.''And it's prohibited to have girls in the rooms too,' the man said. 'Because of what happened.'Eva Lind gave a faint smile and looked over at her father. Erlendur looked up at his daughter and then at the employee.'We were told a girl had come up here,' he continued. 'That's not allowed. You'll have to leave. Now."He stood in the doorway, waiting for Eva Lind to accompany him. Erlendur stood up, still with the quilt over his shoulders, and walked over to the man.'She's my daughter,' he said.'Of course,' the man from the reception said, as if that was none of his business.'Seriously; Eva Lind said.The man looked at each of them in turn.'I don't want any trouble,' he said.'b.u.g.g.e.r off then and leave us in peace,' Eva Lind said.He stood looking at Eva Lind and at Erlendur in his underpants beneath the quilt, and did not budge.'There's something wrong with the radiator in here,' Erlendur said. 'It doesn't heat up.''She'll have to come with me,' the man said.Eva Lind looked at her father and shrugged.'We'll talk later,' she said. 'I'm not taking this bulls.h.i.t''What do you mean, you can't hold out any longer?' Erlendur said.'We'll talk later,' Eva said, and went out of the door.The man smiled at Erlendur.'Are you going to do something about the radiator in here?' Erlendur asked.'I'll notify maintenance,' he said, and closed the door.Erlendur sat back down on the edge of the bed. Eva Lind and Sindri Snaer were the fruit of a failed marriage that had come to an end more than two decades ago. Erlendur had had virtually no contact with his children after the divorce. His ex-wife, Halldora, made sure of that. She felt betrayed and used the children to get her own back on him. Erlendur resigned himself to it. Ever since, he had regretted not insisting on his right to see his children. Regretted leaving it all up to Halldora. When they grew older they tracked him down for themselves. His daughter was doing drugs by then. His son had already been through rehab for alcoholism.He knew what Eva meant when she said she didn't know whether she could hold out. She had not been through treatment. Not been to any inst.i.tution for help with her problem. She had tackled it herself, alone. Had always been reticent, spiteful and headstrong when the question of her lifestyle arose. Even when pregnant she had not managed to kick the drug habit. She made attempts, and gave up for a while, but lacked the resolve to quit for good. She tried, and Erlendur knew that she did so in complete earnestness, but it was too much and she always slipped back into her old ways. He didn't know what made her so dependent on drugs that she gave them priority over everything else in life. Didn't know the root of her self-destruction, but realised that in some way he had failed her. That in some way he was also to blame for the situation she was in.*He had sat by Eva's bedside at the hospital when she was in a coma, talking to her because the doctor said she might hear his voice and even sense his presence. A few days later she came round and the first thing she asked was to see her father. She was so frail that she could hardly speak. When he visited her she was asleep and he sat beside her and waited for her to wake up.At last, when she opened her eyes and saw him, she seemed to try to smile, but she started to cry and he stood up and hugged her. She trembled in his arms and he tried to calm her, laid her back on the pillow and wiped the tears from her eyes.'Where have you been all these long days?' he said, stroking her cheek and trying to give a smile of encouragement.'Where's the baby?' she asked.'Didn't they tell you what happened?''I lost it. They didn't tell me where it is. I haven't been allowed to see it. They don't trust me ...''I came very close to losing you.''Where is it?'Erlendur had been to see the baby when it lay still-born in the operating theatre, a little girl who might have been given the name Audur.'Do you want to see the baby?' he asked.'Forgive me,' Eva said in a low voice.'For what?'The way I am. The way the baby...''I don't need to forgive the way you are, Eva. You shouldn't apologise for the way you are.''Yes, I should.''Your fate isn't in your own hands alone.''Would you...?'Eva Lind stopped talking and lay on the bed, exhausted. Erlendur waited in silence while she mustered her strength. A long time pa.s.sed. Eventually she looked at her father.'Will you help me bury her?' she said.'Of course,' he said.'I want to see her,' Eva said.'Do you think...?''I want to see her,' she repeated. 'Please. Let me see her.'After a moment's hesitation Erlendur went to the mortuary and came back with the body of the girl whom in his mind he called Audur because he did not want her to be anonymous. He carried the body along the hospital corridor in a white towel because Eva was too weak to move, and he brought it to her in intensive care. Eva held her baby, looked at it, then looked up at her father.'It's my fault,' she said in a low voice.Erlendur thought she was about to burst into tears and was surprised when she did not. There was an air of calm about her that veiled the repulsion she felt towards herself.'Feel free to have a cry,' he said.Eva looked at him.'I don't deserve to cry,' she said.She sat in a wheelchair in Fossvogur cemetery and watched the vicar strewing the three spadefuls of soil over the coffin, with an expression of unflinching toughness. Only with difficulty could she stand, but she pushed Erlendur away when he moved to help her. She made the sign of the cross over her daughter's grave and her lips quivered; Erlendur couldn't tell whether through fighting back the tears or mouthing a silent prayer.It was a beautiful spring day, the sun was glittering on the surface of the water in the bay and down in Nautho1svik people could be seen strolling in the fine weather. Halldora stood some distance away and Sindri Snaer by the edge of the grave, far from his father. They could hardly have stood further apart; a disparate group with nothing in common except the misery of their lives. Erlendur reflected that the family hadn't been all together for almost a quarter of a century. He looked over at Halldora, who avoided looking his way. He did not speak to her, nor she to him.Eva Lind slumped back into the wheelchair and Erlendur attended to her and heard her groan.'f.u.c.k life.'Erlendur snapped out of his thoughts when he remembered something that the man from the reception had said which he wanted to insist on an explanation for. He stood up, went into the corridor and saw the man disappearing into the lift. Eva was nowhere to be seen. He called out to the man who held the lift door, stepped back out and sized up Erlendur as he stood in front of him, barefoot, in his underpants with the quilt still draped over him.'What did you mean when you said "Because of what happened"?' Erlendur asked.'Because of what happened?' the man repeated with a puzzled expression.'You said I couldn't have the girl in my room because of what happened.''Yes.''You mean what happened to Santa in the bas.e.m.e.nt.''Yes. What do you know about...?'Erlendur looked down at his underpants and hesitated for a moment.'I'm taking part in the investigation,' he said. "The police investigation.'The man looked at him, unable to conceal an expression of disbelief.'Why did you make that connection?' Erlendur hurried to say.'I don't follow,' the man said, dithering in front of him.'So if Santa hadn't been killed it would be all right to have a girl in the room. That was the way you said it. You see what I mean?''No,' the man said. 'Did I say "Because of what happened"? I don't remember that.''You said just that. The girl wasn't allowed to be in the room because of what happened. You thought my daughter was a ...' Erlendur tried to put it delicately but failed. 'You thought my daughter was a tart and you came to throw her out because Santa got murdered. If that hadn't happened it would have been all right to have a girl in the room. Do you allow girls in the rooms? When everything's all right?'The man looked at Erlendur.'What do you mean by girls?''Tarts,' Erlendur said. 'Do tarts hang around the hotel, nipping into the rooms, and you ignore it apart from now because of what happened? What did Santa have to do with that? Was he connected with it somehow?''I haven't a clue what you're talking about,' the man said.Erlendur changed tack.'I can understand that you want to exercise caution when there's been a murder at the hotel. You don't want to draw attention to anything unusual or abnormal even if it's innocent, and there's nothing to say about that. People can do what they want and pay for it for all I care. What I need to know is whether Santa was connected with prost.i.tution at this hotel.''I don't know anything about any prost.i.tution,' the man said. 'As you saw, we keep a lookout for girls who go to rooms on their own. Was that really your daughter?''Yes,' Erlendur said.'She told me to f.u.c.k off?'That's her.'Erlendur closed the door to his room behind him, lay down on the bed and soon fell asleep, dreaming that the heavens were strewn over him, and that he heard the sound of weathervanes rattling in the wind.

SECOND DAY

5

The reception manager had not yet arrived for work when Erlendur went down to the lobby and asked for him. He had given no explanation for his absence, nor phoned in sick or to say he needed the day off to run some errands. A lady in her thirties who worked at reception told Erlendur that it was certainly unusual for the reception manager not to turn up on time, always such a punctual man, and incomprehensible of him not to get in touch if he needed time off.She told Erlendur this in between pauses while a bio-technician from the National Hospital took a swab of her saliva. Three biotechnicians were collecting samples from the hotel staff. Another group went to the homes of the employees who were not at work. Soon the biotechnicians would have DNA from the hotel's entire staff to compare with the saliva on Santa's condom.Detectives interrogated the staff about their acquaintanceship with Gudlaugur and the whereabouts of each and every one of them the previous afternoon. The entire Reykjavik CID took part in the murder investigation while information and evidence were being collected.'What about people who've recently left or worked here a year ago or whatever, and knew Santa?' Sigurdur oli asked. He sat down beside Erlendur in the dining room and watched him partake of herring and ryebread, cold ham, toast and piping hot coffee.'Let's see what we discover from this for starters,' Erlendur said, slurping his coffee. 'Have you found out anything about this Gudlaugur?''Not much. There doesn't seem to be a lot to say about him. He was forty-eight, single, no children. He'd been working here for the past twenty years or so. I understand he lived in that little room down in the bas.e.m.e.nt for years. It was only supposed to be a temporary solution at the time, that fat manager implied. But he says he's not familiar with the matter. Told us to talk to the previous manager. He was the one who made the deal with Santa. Fatso reckoned Gudlaugur had lost the place he was renting and was allowed to keep his stuff in the room, and he just never left.'Sigurdur oli paused, then said: 'Elinborg told me you stayed at the hotel last night.''I can hardly recommend it. The room's cold and the staff never give you a moment's peace. But the food's good. Where is Elinborg?'The dining room was busy and the hotel guests made a din as they indulged in the breakfast spread. Most of them were tourists wearing traditional Icelandic sweaters, hiking boots and thick winter clothing, even though they were going no further than the city centre, ten minutes' walk away. The waiters made sure their coffee cups were refilled and their used plates taken away. Christmas songs were playing softly over the sound system.'The main hearing starts today. You knew that, didn't you?' Sigurdur oli asked.'Yes.''Elinborg's down there. How do you think it will turn out?''I suppose it will be a couple of months, suspended. Always the same with those b.l.o.o.d.y judges.''Surely he won't be allowed to keep the boy.''I don't know,' Erlendur said.'The b.a.s.t.a.r.d,' Sigurdur oli said. 'They ought to put him in the stocks in the town square.'Elinborg had been in charge of the investigation. An eight-year-old boy had been committed to hospital after being seriously a.s.saulted. No one had been able to get a word out of him about the attack. The initial theory was that older children had set on him outside the school and beaten him up so badly that he suffered a broken arm, fractured cheekbone and two loose upper teeth. He crawled home in a terrible state. His father notified the police when he got back from work shortly afterwards. An ambulance took the boy to hospital.The boy was an only child. His mother was in the Kleppur mental hospital when the incident took place. He lived with his father, who owned and ran an internet company, in a big and beautiful two-storey house with a commanding view of the city in Breidholt suburb. Naturally, the father was distressed after the a.s.sault and talked about taking vengeance on the boys who had hurt his son so horrifically. He insisted that Elinborg bring them to justice.Elinborg might never have found out the truth had they not lived in a two-storey house with the boy's room upstairs.'She identifies with it in a bad way,' Sigurdur oli said. 'Elinborg has a boy the same age.''You shouldn't let that influence you too much,' Erlendur said vacantly.'Says who?'The peaceful atmosphere of the breakfast buffet was disturbed by a noise from the kitchen. All the guests looked up, then at each other. A loud-voiced man was ranting about something or other. Erlendur and Sigurdur oli stood up and went into the kitchen. The voice belonged to the head chef who had caught Erlendur when he nibbled at the ox tongue. He was raging at a biotechnician who wanted to take a saliva sample from him.'... and b.u.g.g.e.r off out of here with your b.l.o.o.d.y swabs!' the chef shouted at a woman of fifty who had a little sampling box open on the table. She went on insisting politely in spite of his fury, which did not soothe his temper. When he saw Erlendur and Sigurdur oli his rage was redoubled.'Are you mad?' he shouted. 'Do you think I was down there with Gulli putting a condom on his d.i.c.k? Are you lot mental? f.u.c.king idiots! No way. No b.l.o.o.d.y way. I don't give a monkey's what you say! You can stick me in jail and throw away the key but I'm not taking part in this b.l.o.o.d.y fiasco! Just get that straight! f.u.c.king idiots!'The chef strode out of the kitchen, swollen with righteous male indignation which was rather undermined, however, by his chimney-like white hat, and Erlendur began to smile. He looked at the biotechnician who smiled back and started to laugh. The tension in the kitchen eased. The cooks and waiters who had gathered round roared with laughter.'You having trouble?' Erlendur asked the biotechnician.'No, not at all,' she said. 'Everyone's very understanding really. He's the first one to make a scene about it'She smiled, and Erlendur thought her smile was pretty. She was roughly the same height as him, with thick, blond hair, cut short, and was wearing a colourful knitted cardigan b.u.t.toned down the front. Under the cardigan was a white blouse. She was wearing jeans and elegant black leather shoes.'My name's Erlendur,' he said, almost instinctively, and held out his hand.She became a little fl.u.s.tered.'Yes,' she said, shaking his hand. 'I'm Valgerdur.''Valgerdur?' he repeated. He did not see a wedding ring.Erlendur's mobile phone rang in his pocket.'Excuse me,' he said, answering the phone. He heard an old, familiar voice asking for him.'Is that you?' the voice asked.'Yes, it's me,' Erlendur said.'I'll never get the hang of these mobile phones,' the voice said. 'Where are you? Are you at the hotel? Maybe you're rushing off somewhere. Or in a lift.''I'm at the hotel.' Erlendur put his hand over the mouthpiece and asked Valgerdur to wait a moment, then went back into the dining room and out to the lobby. It was Marion Briem on the phone.'Are you sleeping at the hotel?' Marion asked. 'Is something wrong? Why don't you go home?'Marion Briem had worked for the old Police Investigation Department when that inst.i.tution was still around, and had been Erlendur's mentor. Was already there when Erlendur joined and had taught him the detective's craft. Marion sometimes phoned Erlendur and complained that he never visited. Erlendur had never really liked his former boss and felt no particular urge to reappraise his feelings in Marion's old age. Perhaps because they were too similar. Perhaps because in Marion he saw his own future and wanted to avoid it. Marion lived a lonely life and hated being old.'Why are you phoning?' Erlendur asked.'Some people still keep me in the picture, even if you don't,' Marion said.Erlendur was about to put a swift end to the conversation, but stopped himself. Marion had a.s.sisted him before, without being asked. He mustn't be rude.'Can I help you with anything?' Erlendur asked.'Give me the man's name. I might find something you've overlooked.''You never give up.'I'm bored,' Marion said. 'You can't imagine how bored I am. I retired almost ten years ago and I can tell you, every day in this h.e.l.l is like an eternity. Like a thousand years, every single day.''There are plenty of things for senior citizens to do,' Erlendur said. 'Have you tried bingo?''Bingo!' Marion roared.Erlendur pa.s.sed on Gudlaugur's name. He briefed Marion on the case and then said goodbye. His phone rang almost immediately afterwards.'Yes,' Erlendur said.'We found a note in the man's room,' a voice said over the phone. It was the head of forensics.'A note?''It says: Henry 18.30.''Henry? Wait a minute, when did the girl find Santa