“He’s a creep.”

“I mean that Wapshott.”

“Yes, both of them.”

“So you didn’t notice anything unusual in his room?”

“It was a real mess, but that’s nothing unusual.”

Osp stopped working, stood still for a moment and looked pensively at Erlendur.

“Are you getting anywhere? With Santa?”

“A little,” Erlendur said. “Why?”

“This is a weird hotel,” Osp said, lowering her voice and looking out into the corridor.

“Weird?” Erlendur had a sudden feeling that she was not quite so self-confident. “Are you afraid of something? Something here at the hotel?”

Osp did not answer.

“Are you frightened of losing your job?”

She looked at Erlendur.

“Yeah right, this is the sort of job you don’t want to lose.”

“So what is it?”

Osp hesitated, then seemed to make a decision. As if what she wanted to say was not worth bothering about any longer.

“They steal from the kitchen,” she said. “Everything they can. I don’t think they’ve had to go shopping for years.”

“Steal?”

“Everything that’s not bolted to the floor.”

“Who are they?”

“Don’t say I told you. The head chef. Him for starters.”

“How do you know?”

“Gulli told me. He knew everything that went on at this hotel”

Erlendur recalled when he stole the ox tongue from the buffet and the head chef saw him and chided him. Remembered his tone of indignation.

“When did he tell you this?”

“A couple of months ago.”

“So what? Did it worry him? Was he going to tell someone? Why did he tell you? I thought you didn’t know him.”

“I didn’t know him.” Osp paused. “They were having a go at me in the kitchen,” she continued. “Talking dirty. “How you feeling down there?” and that sort of thing. All the pathetic crap morons like that come up with. Gulli heard it and talked to me. Told me not to worry. He said they were all thieves and he could get them caught if he wanted.”

“Did he threaten to get them caught?”

“He didn’t threaten anything,” Osp said. “He just said it to cheer me up.”

“What do they steal?” Erlendur asked. “Did he mention anything in particular?”

“He said the manager knew but didn’t do anything, he’s on the take too. He buys black market stuff. For the bars. Gulli told me that too. The head waiter’s in on it with him.”

“Gudlaugur told you that?”

“Then they pocket the difference.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this when I first talked to you?”

“Is it relevant?”

“It might be.”

Osp shrugged.

“I didn’t know and I wasn’t quite myself after I found him. Gudlaugur. With the condom. And the knife wounds”

“Did you see any money in his room?”

“Money?”

“He’d recently been paid some money but I don’t know whether he had it on him when he was attacked.”

“I didn’t see a penny.”

“No,” Erlendur said. “You didn’t take the money? When you found him?”

Osp stopped working and threw her hands down by her sides.

“Do you mean, did I steal it?”

“These things happen.”

“You think I—”

“Did you take it?”

“No.”

“You had the chance.”

“So did the person who killed him.”

“That’s true,” Erlendur said.

“I didn’t see a penny.”

“No, all right.”

Osp went back to her cleaning. Sprayed disinfectant into the toilet bowl and scrubbed it with the brush, acting as if Erlendur wasn’t there. He watched her working for a little while, then thanked her.

“What do you mean, you disturbed him?” he said, stopping at the door. “Henry Wapshott. You could hardly have got very far into his room if you called out first the way you did here.”

“He didn’t hear me.”

“What was he doing?”

“I don’t know if I can …”

“It won’t go any further.”

“He was watching TV,” Osp said.

“He wouldn’t want that to get around,” Erlendur whispered conspiratorially.

“Or, you know, a video,” Osp said. “It was porn. Disgusting.”

“Do they show porn films at the hotel?”

“Not that sort of film, they’re banned everywhere.”

“What sort of film?”

“It was child pornography. I told the manager.”

“Child pornography? What sort of child pornography?”

“What sort? Do you want me to describe it?”

“What day was this?”

“Fucking pervert!”

“When was it?”

“The day I found Gulli.”

“What did the manager do?”

“Nothing,” Osp said. “Told me to keep my mouth shut about it.”

“Do you know who Gudlaugur was?”

“What do you mean, the doorman? He was the doorman. Was he something else?”

“Yes, when he was little. He was a choirboy and had a very good voice. I’ve heard his records”

“A choirboy?”

“A child star, really. Then somehow everything went wrong in his life. He grew up and it was over.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“No, no one knew about Gudlaugur any more,” Erlendur said.

They fell silent, deep in their own thoughts. Some minutes passed.

“Does Christmas get you down?” Erlendur asked again. It was as if he had found a soul mate.

She turned towards him.

“Christmas is for happy people.”

Erlendur looked at Osp and a hint of a wry smile moved across his face.

“You’d get on with my daughter,” he said, and took out his mobile phone.

Sigurdur Oli was surprised when Erlendur told him about the money that had probably been in Gudlaugur’s room. They discussed the need to verify Wapshott’s claim that he had been roaming the record markets at the time the murder was committed. Sigurdur Oli was standing in front of Wapshott’s cell when Erlendur phoned him, and he described the conditions under which his saliva sample had been taken.

The cell he was in had housed many poor unfortunates, the whole spectrum from wretched tramps to thugs and murderers, and they had covered the walls and scratched the paint with remarks about their miserable stay in custody.

In the cell was a toilet bowl and a bed, bolted to the floor. On top of it was a thin mattress and a hard pillow. There were no windows in the cell, but high above the prisoner was a strong fluorescent light that was never switched off, making it difficult for the occupants to tell whether it was day or night.

Henry Wapshott stood rigid against the wall, facing the heavy steel door. Two warders held him. Elinborg and Sigurdur Oli were also in the cell with a warrant ordering the test to be made, and Valgerdur was there too, cotton bud in hand, ready to take the sample.

Wapshott stared at her as if she were the devil incarnate, who had arrived to drag him down into eternal hell fire. His eyes were popping out of his head, he arched himself as far away from her as he could, and no matter how they tried, they could not make him open his mouth.

Eventually they laid him on the floor and held his nose until he had to give in and gasp for breath. Valgerdur seized the chance and rammed the cotton wool bud into his mouth, wiped it around until he retched, then whipped it back out of him and hurried from the cell.