Free Voices by Arnaldur Indridason Page B

temper.
'Of course they'll find it out for themselves, but it might not do any harm to mention Cortisol.'
'I've still got to talk to forensics, they'll surely tell us something about the Cortisol.'
'You can work a few things out from that. See what was going on in that basement room.'
'I know, Marion. Anything else?'
'I just wanted to remind you about the Cortisol.'
'Goodnight, Marion.'
'Goodnight.'

THIRD DAY

9
Erlendur, Sigurdur Óli and Elínborg held a meeting early the following morning. They sat at a little round table to one side of the dining room and had breakfast from the buffet. It had snowed during the night, then turned warmer and the streets were clear. The weathermen were forecasting a green Christmas. Long queues of cars built up at every junction and the city swarmed with people.
'This Wapshott,' Sigurdur Óli said. 'Who is he?'
Much ado about nothing, Erlendur thought to himself as he sipped his coffee and looked out of the window. Odd places, hotels. He found staying at a hotel a welcome change but it was accompanied by the strange experience of having someone go into his room when he was not in it to tidy everything up. In the morning he left his room and the next time he returned someone had been in and restored it to normal: made the bed, changed the towels, put fresh soap on the sink. He was aware of the presence of the person who put his room back in order but saw no one, did not know who tidied up his life.
When he went downstairs in the morning he asked reception not to have his room cleaned any more.
Wapshott was going to meet him again later that morning and tell him more about his record collecting and Gudlaugur Egilsson's singing career. They had shaken hands on parting when Valgerdur interrupted them the previous evening. Wapshott had stood to attention, waiting for Erlendur to introduce him to the woman, but when nothing of the sort happened he had held out his hand, introduced himself and bowed. Then he'd asked to be excused; he was tired and hungry and was going up to his room to deal with some business before dining and going to bed.
They did not see him come down to the dining room where they were eating, and talked about how he might have ordered a meal by room service. Valgerdur mentioned that he looked tired.
Erlendur had accompanied her to the cloakroom and helped her put on her smart leather coat, then walked with her to the revolving doors where they stood for a moment before she went out into the falling snow. When he lay on his bed, after Eva Lind had left, Valgerdur's smile accompanied him into sleep, along with the faint scent of perfume that lingered on his hand from when they had said their goodbyes.
'Erlendur?' Sigurdur Óli said. 'Hello! Wapshott, who is he?'
'All I know is that he's a British record collector,' Erlendur said, after telling them about his meeting with him. 'And he's leaving the hotel tomorrow. You ought to phone the UK and get some details on him. We're going to meet before noon and I'll get some more out of him.'
'A choirboy?' Elínborg said. 'Who could have wanted to kill a choirboy?'
'Naturally, he wasn't a choirboy any longer,' Sigurdur Óli said.
'He was famous once,' Erlendur said. 'Released some records that are clearly rare collectors' items today. Henry Wapshott comes up here from the UK on account of them, on account of him. He specialises in choirboys and boys' choirs from all over the world.'
"The only one I've heard of is the Vienna Boys' Choir,' Sigurdur Óli said.
'Specialises in choirboys' Elínborg said. 'What kind of man collects records of choirboys? Shouldn't we give that some thought? Isn't there something odd about that?'
Erlendur and Sigurdur Óli looked at her.
'What do you mean?' Erlendur asked.
'What?' Elínborg's expression turned to one of astonishment.
'Do you think there's something odd about collecting records?'
'Not records, but choirboys,' Elínborg said. 'Recordings of choirboys. There's a huge difference there, I reckon.