‘There’s not much I can do about it,’ Baldvin said. ‘I would have told you about it if I’d thought it had the slightest bearing.’
‘What was María’s attitude to the money?’
‘Attitude? I . . . no particular attitude. She wasn’t very interested in money.’
‘For example, did she want you both to use the money to get more out of life? Did she want to spend it on luxuries? Or was she like her mother and preferred to avoid thinking about it?’
‘She was well aware of the existence of the money,’ Baldvin said.
‘But didn’t spend it?’
‘No. Neither she nor Leonóra did. You’re right. I think I know why, but that’s another matter. Who have you been talking to, if I may ask?’
‘That probably has no bearing at this stage. I imagine that
you
would have preferred to enjoy the good things in life. All that money just sitting there, no one using it.’
Baldvin took a deep breath.
‘I have no interest in talking about the money,’ he said.
‘What sort of financial arrangement did you and María have? Did you have a prenuptial agreement?’
‘Yes, we did, as it happens.’
‘What kind of agreement?’
‘She would keep the land or any money raised from its sale.’
‘So it was in her name?’
‘Yes. She would keep the lot if we divorced.’
‘Right,’ Erlendur said. ‘Then there’s question number two. Do you know a man by the name of Tryggvi?’
‘Tryggvi? No.’
‘Of course, it’s a long time since you met but you ought to remember the circumstances. He has a cousin by the name of Sigvaldi who lives in the States. His girlfriend was called Dagmar. She’s on holiday in Florida at the moment but she’ll be back in a week or so. I’m going to try and catch up with her then. Do those names ring any bells?’
‘Sort of . . . What . . . ?’
‘Did you study medicine with them?’
‘Yes, if we’re talking about the same people.’
‘Did you take part in an experiment on Tryggvi, during which his heart was stopped for several minutes?’
‘I don’t know what—’
‘You and your mate Sigvaldi and his girlfriend Dagmar?’
Baldvin stared at Erlendur for a long time without answering. Then, apparently unable to sit still any longer, he sprang to his feet.
‘Nothing happened,’ he said. ‘How did you dig that up? What are you trying to do? I was only an onlooker, it was Sigvaldi who was in charge. I . . . nothing happened. I just stood there, didn’t even know the bloke. Was his name Tryggvi?’
‘So you do know what I’m referring to?’
‘It was a stupid experiment. It wasn’t meant to prove anything.’
‘But Tryggvi died briefly?’
‘I don’t even know. I left the room. Sigvaldi had wangled some ward at the hospital and we went over there. That guy Tryggvi was a bit of a weirdo. Sigvaldi was always making fun of him, long before this happened. I’d just started medicine. Sigvaldi was very bright but a bit wild. It was his responsibility, his alone. Well, and maybe Dagmar’s. Most of the time I wasn’t even in on what they were planning.’
‘I haven’t spoken to them yet but I intend to,’ Erlendur said. ‘How did Sigvaldi go about stopping Tryggvi’s heart?’
‘He lowered his body temperature and gave him some drug. I don’t remember what it’s called, or if it’s still on the market. The drug caused his heart to slow down gradually until it stopped. Sigvaldi timed the cardiac arrest and after a minute he used the defibrillator. It worked immediately. His heart started beating again.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
‘What did Tryggvi say?’
‘Nothing. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t feel anything, didn’t feel any pain. He described it as being like a deep sleep. I don’t know why you’re digging this up. How far back are you looking? Why are you investigating me and my life so thoroughly? Just what do you think I’ve done? Is it normal for the police to investigate suicide in this way? Are you persecuting me?’
‘Just one more thing,’ Erlendur said, without answering. ‘Then I’ll be on my way.’
‘Has this become an official inquiry?’
‘No,’ Erlendur said.
‘What, then? Do I actually need to answer these questions?’
‘Not really. I’m only trying to find out what happened when María took her life. Whether anything unnatural occurred.’
‘Unnatural? Isn’t suicide unnatural enough for you? What do you want from me?’
‘María went to see a medium before she died. She referred to the medium as Magdalena. Know anything about that?’
‘No,’ Baldvin said. ‘I know nothing about that. We’ve discussed this. I didn’t know she’d been to a psychic. I don’t know any medium called Magdalena.’
‘She went to a medium because she thought she saw her mother here in the house, quite some time after Leonóra died.’
‘I know nothing about that,’ Baldvin said. ‘She may have been more receptive than other people; she thought she saw things as she was waking up. It’s not uncommon. And not unnatural, if that’s what you’re driving at.’
‘No, of course not.’
Baldvin hesitated. He had taken a seat opposite Erlendur again.
‘Maybe I should have a word with your superiors,’ he said.
‘Of course,’ Erlendur said. ‘If you think it’ll make you feel better.’
‘It’s . . . speaking of ghosts. There’s one thing I haven’t told you,’ Baldvin said, suddenly burying his face in his hands. ‘You might understand María better if you knew. What she did. It might allay your suspicions. I hope you understand that I didn’t do anything to her. That what she did, she did alone.’
Erlendur remained silent.
‘It’s connected with the accident at Thingvellir.’
‘The accident? You mean when Magnús died?’
‘Yes. I thought I wouldn’t need to bring it up but since you seem to think something shady has happened it’s probably best if I tell you. I promised María not to tell anyone but I don’t like your visits and I want them to stop. I don’t want you coming round here with your hints and insinuations. I want you to stop this and let us . . . let
me
mourn my wife in peace.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Something María told me after Leonóra died. About her father and Lake Thingvallavatn.’
‘Which was?’
Baldvin took a deep breath.
‘Leonóra and María’s description of what happened when he drowned is correct on all the main points apart from one. You may have examined the case; you seem incapable of leaving any of our affairs alone.’
‘I know something about it,’ Erlendur said.
‘I only knew the official version, like everyone else. The propeller came loose, Magnús probably tried to fiddle with the motor and fell overboard, the water was freezing cold and he drowned.’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, according to María, he wasn’t alone in the boat. I know I shouldn’t be telling you this but I don’t know how else to get rid of you.’
‘Who was with him in the boat?’
‘Leonóra.’
‘Leonóra?’
‘Yes. Leonóra and . . .’
‘And who?’
‘María.’
‘María was in the boat as well?’
‘Magnús went behind Leonóra’s back; he was having an affair. I gather he told her at Thingvellir. At the holiday cottage. Leonóra was shattered. She’d had no idea. Then Magnús, Leonóra and María went out in the boat. María didn’t tell me what happened there but we know that Magnús fell overboard. The end came very quickly. No one survives long in Lake Thingvallavatn in autumn.’
‘And María?’
‘María witnessed it,’ Baldvin said. ‘She said nothing when the police arrived, simply confirmed the story that Magnús had been alone in the boat.’
‘Didn’t she tell you what happened on board?’
‘No. She didn’t want to.’
‘And you believed her?’
‘Of course.’
‘Did it affect her badly?’
‘Yes, all her life. It wasn’t until after Leonóra had died, after the harrowing period when she’d lain dying here in the house, that María told me. I promised not to tell a soul. I hope you’ll honour that promise.’
‘Was that why they didn’t touch his money? Because of a guilty conscience?’
‘The land was completely worthless until the suburbs around Reykjavík started to grow. They forgot all about it until a big building contractor tracked them down and made them an offer. Three hundred million. They were flabbergasted.’
Baldvin looked at the photograph of María that stood on the table beside them.
‘She’d quite simply had enough,’ he said. ‘She’d never been able to talk to anyone about what happened and Leonóra somehow managed to make her complicit in her guilt, secured her silence. María couldn’t live alone with the truth and . . . chose this way out.’
‘You mean that the suicide was connected to this business with her father?’
‘It seems obvious to me,’ Baldvin said. ‘I wasn’t going to tell you but . . .’
Erlendur rose to his feet.
‘I won’t bother you any more,’ he said. ‘That’s enough for today.’
‘Are you going to use this knowledge? About what happened at Thingvellir?’
‘I see no reason to reopen the case. It was a long time ago and both Leonóra and María are dead.’
Baldvin escorted Erlendur to the door. He had already stepped out on to the pavement when he turned back.
‘Just one more thing,’ Erlendur said. ‘Do you have a shower at Thingvellir?’
‘A shower?’ Baldvin said, perplexed.
‘Yes, or a bathtub?’
‘We have both. A shower and a hot tub. I expect you mean the hot tub. It’s out on the veranda. Why do you ask?’
‘No reason. Of course, a hot tub. Doesn’t everyone have one at their holiday home?’
‘Goodbye.’
‘Yes, goodbye.’
María had not had any problems with hallucinations for a long time until her father appeared to her in the garden and shouted at her to be careful, No one else had seen him, No one else had heard him shouting, Her father vanished as suddenly as he had appeared and all María could hear afterwards was the moaning of the wind and the slamming of the gate, Fleeing inside, she locked the door to the veranda, retreated into her bedroom and buried her face in the pillow
.
She had heard that voice before during the seance with Andersen, exactly the same words of warning, but did not know what they were supposed to mean, why they had been said and how much notice she should take of them, She did not know what she was supposed to be careful of
.
She was still awake when Baldvin came home late that night and they returned to the topic of the seance with Magdalena that María had told him about, She described the meeting and its effect on her more fully, saying she not only believed what had emerged there but wanted to believe it too, Wanted to believe that there was another life after this one, That our time on Earth was not the end of it all
.
Baldvin lay listening to her in silence.
‘Have I ever told you about a guy I knew when I was studying medicine? His name was Tryggvi,’ he said
.
‘No,’ María said.
‘He wanted to try and find out if there was an afterlife, He persuaded his cousin who was a doctor to help him, He had read something about a French experiment on near-death experience, We studied medicine together, There was a girl with us, The four of us took part in the experiment.
’
María listened attentively to Baldvin’s account of how they had stopped Tryggvi’s heart, then revived him, and how it had worked perfectly except that Tryggvi had had nothing to tell
.
‘What became of him?’ María asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Baldvin said, ‘I haven’t seen him since.
’
A long silence descended on the room where Leonóra’s final struggle had taken place
.
‘Do you think . . .?’
María broke off.
‘What?’ Baldvin asked.
‘Do you think you could do something like that?
’
‘It’s perfectly possible.’
‘Could you do it to me? For me?’
‘
For
you?
’
‘Yes, I . . . I’ve read so much about near-death experiences.
’
‘I know.’
‘Is the experiment risky?’