Free Ashes to Dust by Yrsa Sigurðardóttir Page B

down into its slot and a
middle-aged man stretched out through the open window and called to them.
    ‘Are you Thóra?’ he said,
looking at Bella. His voice was deep.
    ‘No, that’s me,’
Thóra called back quickly, rather displeased that her secretary should
be mistaken for her. Although Thóra did not consider herself a great beauty, the difference between their appearances and clothing was like
night and day. Thóra always tried to dress smartly: in tasteful jeans
and a sporty outdoor jacket that had cost far, far too much, while her
secretary looked more as if she were on her way to the stage to act in a play
about the Baader-Meinhof terrorist gang. To make matters worse, the
girl’s make-up made her look like a vampire. Thóra stepped closer
to the car.
    ‘Hello,’ said the man, and
reached over to open the passenger door. ‘My name is Leifur, I’m
Markus’s brother. He called me and said that you were on your way, so I
thought I’d come and pick you up.’
    ‘Thanks,’ replied Thóra
immediately. ‘My secretary is here with me, is that all right?’
    ‘Yes, of course,’ replied Leifur,
as he stepped out of the car and put their suitcases in the back.
‘You’re staying at Thórshamar Hotel, I expect?’ he
said, after they’d all piled in.
    ‘Yes,’ replied Thóra, and
she took the opportunity to examine the man better. She could see a distinct
resemblance between the brothers, and thought they must both have been very
handsome in their younger years. Leifur was slightly older than Markus,
probably in his fifties. He carried his age well, like his brother, and had the
air of someone who is used to being in charge and getting his own way. She
wasn’t attracted to much older men, but she
could see that the brothers were good-looking. Leifur’s smart clothing
suggested he was a man who appreciated good quality, and this fitted with his
choice of car, although Thóra knew that clothing did not tell the whole
story. Bella, for example, was neither a terrorist nor a fat vampire, although
people might be forgiven for thinking otherwise.
     
    ‘The hotel is in an excellent
location,’ said Leifur as they drove off. ‘In the
centre of town, not far from the harbour.’
    ‘That’s good to hear,’ said
Thóra, and wondered what she should say next. She had no idea how much
he knew about the case, and wanted to avoid telling him anything he
didn’t already know. It wouldn’t look good if he started quoting
her at police interrogations. She glanced around in search of something to talk
about. ‘Great weather,’ she said, and then reproached herself for
the cliche. ‘Is it always so nice here?’
    Leifur turned towards her and smiled.
‘Sure, I guess so.’
    Much to Thóra’s regret, no
lively discussion of the weather ensued. No one said anything for a few moments
and she used the time to look around. There was little or no traffic on the
roads, just like last time she had been here. The landscape was just as
magnificent, and she was about to mention this when Leifur started speaking
again, now less upbeat than before: ‘It’s terrible, this thing with
the bodies,’ he said, glancing over at Thóra. ‘I presume it’s okay to talk about it in front of your
secretary?’
    ‘Of course,’ said Thóra.
‘Nonetheless, I’m unable to discuss details of the case with you.
At least, details that you don’t know about already.’
    ‘No, I’m not going to try to get
anything out of you,’ replied the man. ‘That’s not what I
meant. I was just so shocked that they were found in our house. My family has
enough to deal with right now.’
    Thóra’s ears pricked up.
‘Oh?’ She looked around the jeep and recalled how Markus also
seemed to have quite enough to get by on. Financial concerns could hardly be
overburdening the family.
    ‘Ah, well,’ replied Leifur,
sounding dejected. ‘It’s a lot of little things combined with a few
larger problems. Dad’s illness is the biggest.’
    ‘Yes,