‘Still snooping for information about Baldvin’s wife?’ Karólína asked bluntly as she showed Erlendur into the sitting room. The question was posed without any apparent interest in an answer. Karólína seemed determined to behave as if she wasn’t unnerved by receiving two visits in short succession from the police. Erlendur couldn’t tell if she was acting.

‘Have you and Baldvin been talking?’ he asked.

‘Of course. We find it funny. Are you seriously trying to suggest that we did something to María?’

Again the question was posed as if the answer hardly mattered, as if Erlendur’s believing such a thing was too bizarre to be taken seriously.

‘Would it be absurd to think that?’

‘Ludicrous,’ Karólína confirmed.

‘There’s money at stake,’ Erlendur pointed out, his eyes wandering around the sitting room.

‘Are you seriously investigating this as a murder?’

‘Have you ever wondered about life after death?’ Erlendur asked, taking a seat.

‘No – why?’

‘María did,’ he said. ‘Almost all the time. You could say she didn’t think about anything else in the weeks before she died. She tried to find answers by going to mediums. Does that sound familiar at all?’

‘I know what a medium is,’ Karólína said.

‘We know about one she visited. His name’s Andersen. He gave her a recording to take home with her. We know about another medium she went to see, too; a woman I haven’t been able to trace yet. She’s called – or calls herself – Magdalena. Ring any bells?’

‘No.’

‘I’d quite like to meet her,’ Erlendur said.

‘I’ve never been to a medium in my life,’ Karólína said.

Erlendur gave her a long look, wondering if he should disclose what he thought had happened instead of continuing to pussyfoot around the subject. He had a theory but couldn’t prove it. He had gone back and forth over the possibilities without reaching any conclusion. He knew it was time to take action, set the case in motion, but had been dithering because he had so little to go on, not much more than suspicions, based on frail foundations that would inevitably be easy to deny. There was a possibility that he might be able to dig up some evidence, given time, but he was fed up with the whole case and wanted to finish it so that he could turn to other things.

‘Have you ever played a medium?’ he asked.

‘You mean on stage? No, I haven’t,’ Karólína replied.

‘And you say that you don’t know a medium who goes by the name of Magdalena?’

‘No.’

‘The same name as the character you played on stage?’

‘No, I don’t know any Magdalena.’

‘I had my people check up on it,’ Erlendur said. ‘There is no medium with that name in the whole Reykjavík area.’

‘Why don’t you just say what you’re going to say?’

Erlendur smiled.

‘Maybe I should.’

‘Please do.’

‘I’ll tell you what I think happened,’ Erlendur said. ‘I think you and Baldvin pushed María into suicide.’

‘Oh?’

‘She was in a terrible state after her mother died. María had watched Leonóra fighting the cancer for two years, watched her endure dreadful pain and suffering before the end. She started imagining all sorts of things and began looking for signs that her mother had intended to give her as proof that she was safe or that there was some kind of life after this one that might even be better than this vale of tears. It didn’t take much to push María over the edge. She was absolutely terrified of the dark – in fact, she was a bundle of nerves after her mother died, desperate for reassurance that Leonóra was feeling better in some better world. She might have been an academic but this was not a question of rationalism, rather it was one of deeply rooted faith and hope and love. She started imagining all kinds of things. Leonóra appeared to her at their house in Grafarvogur. María turned to psychics. I expect you had some part in that? In tipping her over the edge?’

‘What do you mean? Have you any proof?’

‘None,’ Erlendur said. ‘You both planned it well.’

‘Why on earth should we have done something like that?’

‘There’s a lot of money at stake. Baldvin is seriously in debt and is hardly the type to pay it off, despite the fact that as a doctor he’s on a decent salary. You two get rid of María and live in the lap of luxury for the rest of your lives. I know of murders that have been committed for much lower sums.’

‘You’re calling it murder?’

‘I don’t know what else to call it. When one thinks about it. Are you Magdalena?’

Karólína gave Erlendur a long look, her expression very sober.

‘I think you should go now,’ she said finally.

‘Did you tell María something that might have triggered the events that ended in her suicide?’

‘I have nothing more to say.’

‘Did you play some part in María’s death?’

Karólína was on her feet. She walked into the hall and opened the front door.

‘Get out,’ she said.

Erlendur had also risen to his feet and followed her out.

‘Would you admit that you played even the tiniest role in what happened to María?’ he asked.

‘No,’ Karólína said. ‘She was unhappy. She committed suicide. Will you please leave now?’

‘Has Baldvin ever told you about an experiment that he performed when he was a medical student at university? He was involved in causing a young man to die and then bringing him back to life. Did you know about that?’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘I think it was the tipping point,’ Erlendur said.

‘What?’

‘Ask Baldvin. Ask him if he knows a man called Tryggvi. If he has any contact with him today. You ask him that.’

‘Will you get out now?’ Karólína said.

Erlendur stood in the doorway, refusing to give up. Karólína was crimson in the face.

‘I think I know what happened at the holiday cottage,’ he said. ‘And it’s not a pretty story.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Karólína pushed him out of the door but Erlendur still refused to give up.

‘Tell Baldvin I know about the defibrillator,’ he said as the door slammed shut.

32

Erlendur sat waiting in the dark, in a state of uncertainty.

He had woken late that morning. Eva Lind had dropped by on the previous evening and they had talked about Valgerdur. He knew that Eva wasn’t very keen on her and that if she saw Valgerdur’s car parked in front of his block she would sometimes wait for Erlendur’s girlfriend to leave before knocking on his door.

‘Why can’t you just be nice to her?’ Erlendur asked his daughter. ‘She’s forever taking your side when we talk about you. You could be good friends if you’d only let yourself get to know her.’

‘I’m not interested,’ Eva Lind said. ‘I’m not interested in the women in your life.’

‘Women? There are no women. There’s Valgerdur and that’s it. There never have been any women.’

‘Relax,’ Eva Lind said. ‘Got any coffee?’

‘What do you want?’

‘Oh, you know, I was just bored.’

Erlendur sat down in his chair. Eva Lind was lying on the sofa opposite him.

‘Are you planning to sleep here?’ Erlendur asked, looking at the clock. It was well past midnight.

‘I dunno,’ Eva Lind said. ‘Would you mind reading me the chapter about your brother again?’

Erlendur looked at his daughter for a long time before getting up and going over to the bookcase. He took out the book containing the account and, taking his seat again, began to read about the incident and his father’s ineffectiveness and how he himself was described as gloomy and withdrawn and how he had searched for his brother’s remains. He glanced over at his daughter when he had finished reading. He thought she had fallen asleep. Putting down the book on a small table beside the sofa, he sat with his hands in his lap, thinking how angry his mother had been with the man who wrote the account. A long time passed, until Eva Lind eventually sighed.