“Eva Lind said you’d ask that too. Don’t try to understand it,” Stina said, and stubbed her cigarette out on the floor, “Don’t even try.”

She happened to glance through the open door to the office and into the lobby, and saw Osp walking by.

“Is Osp still working here?” she said.

“Osp? Do you know her?” Erlendur’s mobile began ringing in his pocket.

“I thought she’d quit. I used to talk to her sometimes when I was here.”

“How did you know her?”

“We were just together in—”

“She wasn’t whoring with you, was she?” Erlendur took out his mobile and was about to answer.

“No,” Stina said. “She’s not like her little brother.”

“Her brother?” Erlendur said. “Has she got a brother?”

“He’s a bigger tart than I am.”

23

Erlendur stared at Stina while he tried to puzzle out her comment about Osp’s brother. Stina dithered in front of him.

“What?” she said. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to answer the phone?”

“Why did you think Osp had quit?”

“It’s just a shitty job.”

Erlendur answered his phone almost absent-mindedly.

“About time too,” Elinborg said down the line.

She and Sigurdur Oli had gone to Hafnarfjordur to bring Gudlaugur’s sister in for questioning at the police station in Reykjavik, but she refused to go with them. When she asked for an explanation they refused to give one, and then she said she could not abandon her father in his wheelchair. They offered to provide a carer for him and also invited her to talk to a lawyer, who could be present, but she didn’t seem to realise the seriousness of the matter. She would not entertain the notion of going to the police station, so Elinborg suggested a compromise, flatly against Sigurdur Oli’s wishes. They would take her to Erlendur at the hotel and after he had talked to her they would decide the next move. She thought about it. On the verge of losing his patience, Sigurdur Oli was about to drag her off forcibly when she agreed. She phoned a neighbour who came round immediately, clearly accustomed to looking after the old man when needed. Then she began resisting again, which infuriated Sigurdur Oli.

“He’s on his way to you with her,” Elinborg said over the telephone. “He would have much preferred to have had her locked up. She kept asking us why we wanted to talk to her and wouldn’t believe us when we said we didn’t know. Why do you want to talk to her anyway?”

“She came to the hotel a few days before her brother was murdered but told us she hadn’t seen him for decades. I want to know why she didn’t tell us that, why she’s lying. See the look on her face.”

“She might be rather peeved,” Elinborg said. “Sigurdur Oli wasn’t exactly pleased at the way she behaved.”

“What happened?”

“He’ll tell you.”

Erlendur rang off.

“What do you mean, he’s a bigger tart than you?” he said to Stina, who was peering into her bag and wondering whether she could be bothered to light another cigarette. “Osp’s brother. What are you talking about?”

“Eh?”

“Osp’s brother. You said he was a bigger tart than you.”

“Ask her,” Stina said.

“I will, but I mean, what… he’s her little brother, didn’t you say?”

“Yes, and he’s a… bye-bye, baby.”

“A bye-bye baby. You mean a…?”

“Bisexual.”

“And, does he prostitute himself?” Erlendur asked. “Like you?”

“You bet. A junkie. There’s always someone wanting to beat him up because he owes them money”

“And what about Osp? How do you know her?”

“We were at school together. So was he. He’s only a year younger than her. We’re the same age. We were in the same class. She isn’t that bright.” Stina pointed at her head. “Not up there,” she said. “Left school at fifteen. Failed the lot. I passed them all. Finished secondary school.”

Stina gave a broad smile.

Erlendur sized her up.

“I know you’re my daughter’s friend and you’ve been helpful,” he said, “but you shouldn’t go comparing yourself with Osp. For a start, she doesn’t have itchy stitches.”

Stina looked at him, still smiling out of one corner of her mouth, then walked out of the office without a word and through the lobby. On the way she swung her fur-collared coat over her, but now her motions lacked all dignity. She came face to face with Sigurdur Oli and Gudlaugur’s sister as they entered the lobby, and Erlendur saw Sigurdur Oli goggle at Stina’s breasts. He thought to himself that she must have got her money’s worth after all.

The hotel manager stood nearby as if he had been waiting for Erlendur’s meeting to finish. Osp was standing by the lift and watched Stina leave the hotel. It was obvious that Osp recognised her. When Stina walked past the head of reception who was sitting at his desk, he looked up and watched her go out through the door. He glanced over at the hotel manager who waddled off in the direction of the kitchen, and Osp entered the lift, which closed behind her.

“What’s behind all this tomfoolery, may I ask?” Erlendur heard Gudlaugur’s sister say as she approached him. “What’s the meaning of such effrontery and rudeness?”

“Effrontery and rudeness?” Erlendur said in a quizzical voice. “That doesn’t sound familiar.”

“This man here,” the sister said, clearly unaware of Sigurdur Oli’s name, “this man has been rude to me and I demand an apology.”

“Out of the question,” Sigurdur Oli said.

“He pushed me and led me out of my home like a common criminal.”

“I handcuffed her,” Sigurdur Oli said. “And I won’t apologise. She can forget that. She called me plenty of names and Elinborg too, and she resisted. I want to lock her up. She was impeding a police officer in the execution of his duty.”

Stefania Egilsdottir looked at Erlendur and said nothing.

“I’m not accustomed to such treatment,” she said at last.

“Take her down the station,” Erlendur said to Sigurdur Oli. “Put her in the cell next to Henry Wapshott. We’ll talk to her tomorrow.” He looked at the woman. “Or the day after.”

“You can’t do this,” Stefania said, and Erlendur could tell that she was severely taken aback. “You have no reason to treat me like this. Why do you think you can throw me in prison? What have I done?”

“You’ve been lying,” Erlendur said. “Goodbye.” And then to Sigurdur Oli, “We’ll be in touch.”

He turned away from them and set off in the direction the hotel manager had gone. Sigurdur Oli took Stefania by the arm and was about to lead her away, but she stood rooted to the spot and stared at Erlendur’s retreating back.

“All right,” she called after him. She tried to shake off Sigurdur Oli. “This is not necessary,” she said. “We can sit down and talk this over like human beings”

Erlendur stopped and turned around.

“My brother,” she said. “Let’s talk about my brother if you want. But I don’t know what you’ll gain by it”

They sat down in Gudlaugur’s little room. She said she wanted to go there. Erlendur asked whether she had been there before and she denied it. When he asked whether she had not met her brother in all those years, she repeated what she had said before, that she had not been in contact with her brother. Erlendur was convinced that she was lying. That her business at the hotel five days before Gudlaugur’s murder was in some way connected with him, not mere coincidence.

She looked at the poster of Shirley Temple in the role of the Little Princess without the slightest change of expression or word of comment. Opening the wardrobe, she saw his doorman’s uniform. Finally she sat down on the only chair in the room, while Erlendur propped himself up against the wardrobe. Sigurdur Oli had meetings scheduled in Hafnarfjordur with more of Gudlaugur’s old classmates and left when they went down to the basement.

“He died here,” the sister said without a hint of regret in her voice, and Erlendur wondered, just as he had at their first meeting, why this woman apparently lacked all feeling towards her brother.