Authors: Yrsa Sigurdardottir
‘Yes,’ replied Stefán,
gruffly. ‘Everything that was available at that moment.’
‘You also still need to speak to
Alda’s co-workers at the A&E because I didn’t see any
statements taken from them. Of course you’ve had a lot to do,’
Thóra said, standing up. ‘I believe something came up there that
might be connected to the case.’
At that moment a secretary entered the office
with some papers and handed them to Stefán. He sorted out the originals
and handed Thóra the copies. ‘Here’s the report. It’s
got the phone calls to and from Markus’s mobile, as well as to
Alda’s home phone and mobile. I circled the phone calls that are within
the time frame that we’re focusing on, Sunday evening, the eighth of
July.’
Thóra sat back down and looked through
the photocopied pages. ‘Here’s the phone call from Alda to
Markus,’ she said, then flipped to the page with information about his
phone. ‘And here is the same phone call received on Markus’s
mobile,’ she said, unable to suppress her smile. And here is another call
made to him at around the same time
,‘
she continued
cheerfully. ’You hadn’t mentioned that one to me
.‘
She looked up from the papers and stared at Stefán. ’You know what
this means, of course
?‘
she said.
‘We would if we knew who called,’
said Stefán, his expression far from happy. ‘As you can see,
the number is unknown. It could be an unlisted number, or a call from a foreign
mobile system that doesn’t have an agreement for number sharing with
Iceland. It might be possible to dig it up, but that takes time.’ He sat
up straighter in his chair. ‘While we still don’t know who phoned,
we’ve got to assume that it was the accomplice I suggested
before.’
‘What rubbish!’ Thóra
said, now very irritated. If it
were
possible to find
the second person who phoned, and that person could confirm that Markus had
answered, his alibi would be watertight. ‘Have you made any attempt to
ask my client if he remembers who phoned him?’
‘Yes, as a matter of fact I
have,’ said Stefán. ‘It was the first thing I did when I saw
this. I made a call to Litla-Hraun
Prison and spoke to Markus. He says he
doesn’t remember who phoned him, which is highly suspicious
.‘
‘Could you call to mind exactly who
phoned you over a week ago?’ asked Thóra.
‘Of
course not.’
She had had enough. ‘In fact, it would be more
suspicious if Markus bad been able to remember who phoned him on the evening in
question.’ She stood up. Before she left the office she wondered for a
moment whether to mention the autopsy report on Markus’s neighbour, but
decided not to. In the light of how everything seemed to be turning against
Markus, it made more sense to check this out in more detail before
Stefán and his colleagues got their hands on the report. She would meet
Markus later,
then
she could twist his arm in the
faint hope that he knew more about ‘Horseshoe Two’ than his brother
did.
Friday 20 July
2007
‘Markus, sometimes this is just the way
it goes,’ said Thóra encouragingly. ‘It doesn’t
necessarily mean that the judges consider you guilty; far from it. I got a
strong feeling that they doubted the police’s logic and that they were
extremely interested when I ran through all the ways in which not only did
things not add up, but they actually worked in your favour. I’m convinced
that if they had been asked to rule on your guilt or innocence, you would not
be here. That decision was not made purely because the police justified keeping
you incarcerated during the investigation. It was also because the case is
a serious one: it’s not every day five people are found murdered. That
four of them appear to be foreign citizens doesn’t help much,
either.’ Thóra was not exaggerating. She had had a good feeling
about the case during the hearing and had been certain of coming out
victorious, not least when one of the judges had hesitated over the photo of
the feminine-looking man and asked whether it was usual to include both sexes
in a photo line-up.
‘Well, that makes me feel much
better,’ said Markus drily. He looked at Thóra, his anger evident.
‘I sit here, locked up, an innocent man, and find myself wondering if I
shouldn’t just get myself another lawyer. When I hired you I didn’t
expect to end up sitting in prison, suspected of murder.
Much
less serial murder.’
Thóra did not look away, but answered
him frankly. ‘If you want to find another lawyer it’s no skin off
my nose. I can even give you the names of several colleagues who have more
experience in penal cases than I do. It’s your life and your
decision.’ She refrained from adding that she was convinced a change of
lawyer would have had no effect on the High Court’s ruling.
Markus nodded, rubbing his face distractedly.
He had clearly expected to be released. ‘It’s not really all that
long to be locked up,’ he said, more subdued. ‘I don’t doubt
that you’ve worked your hardest. I’m just going out of my mind over
this; I don’t know what’s what any more. I don’t want to
change lawyers.’ He started rubbing his jaw. ‘What did my son
say?’ he asked anxiously.
‘Naturally he was horrified, but he
seems to be a smart kid so I wouldn’t worry too much about him. He understands
the circumstances, and I put a lot of emphasis on this incarceration being
exclusively during the investigation, and told him it wasn’t the same as
a prison sentence,’ said Thóra. ‘Don’t worry about
him.’
‘Maybe you can phone him again for
me?’ he asked, and Thóra nodded. ‘Why didn’t they
accept that phone call as valid evidence?’ he asked suddenly. ‘I
thought it would be enough to show that I was far away from Alda’s home
at that precise time? You said it was obvious that the phone was somewhere on
the road between Hella and
Hvolsvöllur
.’
‘The police insist you didn’t
have your phone with you,’ said Thóra. ‘They think you had
an accomplice, who had your phone with him to provide you with an alibi.’
Markus’s face turned crimson.
‘How can they say that?’
‘They’re grasping at
straws,’ said Thóra. ‘Shortly before
Alda called you, an unknown person also did.
He or she unfortunately has an unlisted number, so it will take more time to
find them, if that even proves to be possible. Stefán said you
don’t remember who it was. Is that still the case
?‘
‘Yes,’ said Markus. ‘But I
don’t know what that would change. Isn’t it enough that Alda called
me?’
‘It would change everything,’
said Thóra. ‘If we could prove it was you that answered your
phone, it would be clear that you were the one on the road to your summerhouse,
rather than this imaginary accomplice.’
‘I understand,’ said Markus, now
rubbing the skin around his eyes. ‘But no.’ He closed his eyes.
‘I just can’t remember. Damn it - it was over a week ago.’
‘Try as hard as you can,’ said
Thóra. ‘If nothing else, you could give me the names of people who
might generally phone you and I could contact them as a last resort. It would
take some ammunition away from the police department.’ She was quiet for
a moment. ‘It would look better for you if we could pinpoint the person
in question while you’re locked up here. Then no one could claim that you
influenced a witness.’
‘I’ll try,’ said Markus.
‘For example, it’s possible that my brother Leifur called, but he
doesn’t have an unlisted number as far as I know. I know that I spoke to
him some time that day. He wanted me to drop by, since I was coming to the
Islands.’
‘Of course it would be great if it was him,’
said Thóra. ‘It would be even better, however, if it was someone a
little less connected to you.’ She couldn’t make it any plainer.
‘Markus,’ she said softly, ‘you do understand, don’t
you, how serious this case is?’ She didn’t wait for a reply but instead
continued: ‘I think it’s extremely likely that the four men who
were in the basement were connected to your father in one way or another.
I’m not necessarily saying he killed
them,
just
that he’s involved in the case. Anything else would be too hard to
swallow.’ She saw that Markus was about to protest, so she held up a hand
to stall him. ‘Just imagine
,
the bodies are put
in your house at the same time as your father is struggling to save his
own family. There must have been better hiding places in the Islands, if your
father wasn’t involved. It crossed my mind that he might even have hidden
the bodies for one of his friends.
Alda’s father, Dadi,
or even Kjartan.
Even though it’s clear to me that Alda is
involved in this somehow, it’s not possible that she killed all these
men.’
‘My father didn’t do it,’
said Markus, but without the intensity of conviction that accompanied most of
his statements. ‘I just don’t believe it.’
‘Maybe not,’ said Thóra.
‘But he knew about it. He had to.’ She drew a deep breath and
gestured around at the narrow prison visiting room they sat in. ‘You
can’t let your concern for your father be your shackles now. I suggest
that I speak to your mother and arrange to meet your father. Maybe we’ll
get something out of him; you never know. The oldest memories often
survive the longest in people with Alzheimer’s. Even if you’re
released in a few days, this case will hang over you until it’s been
solved. If the perpetrator is found, at least some people won’t always
consider you guilty.’ She gave him a moment for this to sink in.
‘Think about it, and I’ll phone you tonight.’
Markus looked up and smiled.
‘Only sixty-eight more hours of this.’
‘Did you know that Alda was obsessed
with sex?’ Thóra changed the subject, not sure how best to phrase
the question. ‘In fact, her computer was full of pornography.’
Markus’s eyes widened. ‘No, I
didn’t know that,’ he said. ‘She was always something of a
prude. Could it have had something to do with her work?’
‘Maybe,’ said Thóra,
although she couldn’t really see how this would have helped her work at
either the clinic or the A&E. She took out the photos Dís had given
her and showed them to him. ‘Do you recognize this tattoo at all?’
Markus peered at the picture.
‘No,’ he said.
‘Never seen this.
Who’d have something this pitiful written on them?’ he asked,
giving her back the page.
‘To tell you the truth, I don’t
know,’ she said, passing him the photo of the young man that had also
been found in Alda’s desk. ‘How about this man; do you know
him?’ Markus was visibly surprised when he saw the photo, but he said
nothing, simply shook his head and returned the photo to her.
‘You’ve never seen him?’ Thóra asked.
‘No; at first he reminded me of a boy 1
used to know years ago, but I can see that it was taken recently,’ said
Markus. ‘Who is he, then?’
‘No idea,’ said Thóra.
‘I was hoping you’d know.’ She put away the pages.
‘When did you next meet Alda after the evacuation?’ she asked.
‘I was told she’d attended Isafjördur Junior College for a
while, but no one knew of her there. Could that have been a
misunderstanding?’
‘No, not at all,’ replied Markus.
‘Alda went west and started school in Isafjördur after the
new year
. She then changed schools when she moved to
Reykjavik around a year later. That’s when we renewed our acquaintance,
because I was going to Reykjavik Junior College, where she transferred
to.’ He stared into space, counting under his breath. ‘It was at
the beginning of 1974. I was in my first year then.’
‘What year was Alda in?’
‘She was in the same year as me. We
were the same age, and she’d finished the first part of the college year
out west.’
‘The way I heard it, Alda registered
for junior college immediately after the eruption,’ said
Thóra. ‘She started in the middle of the winter term, and so was
moved up a year. I found this quite unusual — is that really what
happened?’
‘I heard the same story,’ replied
Markus. ‘She was the brightest student in her class, so she’d
easily have been able to jump ahead a year.’
‘But then wouldn’t she have been
a year ahead of you at Reykjavik Junior College?’ asked Thóra.
‘Yes, but maybe she hadn’t passed
her exams the spring after the eruption, or regretted not having been able to
take the autumn term,’ said Markus impatiently. Clearly he thought this
discussion a complete waste of time.
‘Let’s turn to something
else,’ said Thóra. ‘I understand that the Friday evening
before the volcano blew, there was a school dance at which the students in your
class all planned to get drunk. Do you remember?’
Markus nodded his head sheepishly.
‘That’s the first time I ever drank alcohol, though it might sound
unbelievable,’ he said. ‘Most of my friends started experimenting
around the time they were confirmed.’ He looked embarrassed but kept
going. ‘Dad handled alcohol badly, if you catch my drift. So I planned
never to drink, because I didn’t want to be like him.’
‘That was an unusually wise decision
for a boy of your age,’ said Thóra.