Authors: Yrsa Sigurdardottir
Bella let out a shout as her line suddenly
tautened. ‘I’ve got one!’ she yelled, as if she wanted the
occupants of the hunting shed to hear
them
, hundreds
of feet above. ‘What do I do?’ The old man went over to her. He was
so bow- legged that the fish barrel would have fitted easily between his knees.
He helped Bella reel in her catch; a redfish, so small it would barely make a
canape. The seagulls cried out, excited now that something was happening.
‘Can’t we throw it back?’
implored Thóra. ‘It’s so tiny, poor thing.’ She pitied
the poor fish, which dangled from the hook. ‘Is the wound too deep for it
to live?’
‘No, no,’ said Paddi calmly,
putting on rubber gloves. Thóra recalled that redfish could be poisonous
if they came into contact with an open wound. She had no idea where this poison
was to be found on the fish, but judging by how carefully Paddi freed it from
the hook, it must have been on its skin. He lifted the gaping fish.
‘Should I let it go? It’s your call.’
Thóra and Bella nodded in unison and
watched happily as Paddi threw the fish overboard, but instead of darting away
it just floated on its side. It seemed to be trying to swim with the fin that
was poking up. ‘Why won’t it swim off?’ asked Thóra,
trying to remain calm. ‘Is it more injured than you thought?’ She
was furious at the man.
‘Oh,’ said Paddi, unconcerned.
‘It’s a deep-sea fish, and it fills with air when it comes up from
the bottom. It can’t sink. I forgot about that. It would have been better
off in the barrel.’
‘How could you not remember
that?’ cried Thóra.
‘I’m not in the habit of
releasing my catch, dear lady,’ said Paddi grumpily. Thóra
wasn’t sure whether he was irritated with her or with himself.
The seagulls surrounded the wretched fish,
which still lay half submerged on its side, trying to swim with the fin that
was above the water. They drew nearer. Thóra couldn’t help
watching, though she had no desire to witness what happened next. She felt
uncomfortable, and was beginning to regret having had a drink in the bar.
Suddenly the movement of the boat and the smell of the catch in the barrel were
making her nauseous. She closed her eyes and breathed through her mouth, which
helped a little. Her queasiness erupted again when she opened her eyes and saw
that the fish was still locked in a drawn-out but hopeless fight to the death.
One of the seagulls stretched out its neck and pecked at the fish’s side.
The three of them stood side by side on the boat, watching silently.
Thóra wished that either she’d
kept her mouth shut when the fish was reeled in or she had a net to fish it out
again. Suddenly all the seagulls flocked around the redfish in a feeding
frenzy. The fish could be seen twitching a few times before it finally died,
much to Thóra’s relief. When the seagulls flew up again, full
and contented, there was almost nothing left of it. Paddi turned to look at
Thóra and Bella, noting their identical expressions of horror.
‘Are you sure you like deep-sea fishing?’ he asked. ‘We could
easily change this into a sightseeing trip if you’d rather.’
‘Maybe that would be best,’
replied Thóra, and Bella nodded. ‘We’re not going to make
good fishermen.’ She smiled at him. ‘Why don’t you take us on
a short tour? The reason I booked a trip was actually to ask you about a couple
of things - we were told that you’re the man who knows the most about
people in the Islands.’
‘I see,’ said Paddi, taken aback.
‘Why didn’t you just say so?’
‘I didn’t want to deprive you of
a tour and I thought we could combine the two, fishing and conversation.’
They made their way to the upper deck, which
had the best view of the magnificent scenery, and Paddi set sail again.
‘I expect you’ve heard about the bodies in the basement,’
said Thóra. ‘I’m working for Markus Magnusson, who has
unfortunately been linked to the case.’
‘I have heard,’ said Paddi,
looking straight ahead. ‘This isn’t a big town and when something
like this hits the headlines everyone follows the story, me
included.’
‘So you may also know that Alda
Thórgeirsdóttir seems to have been murdered, and that Markus is a
suspect?’
The old man snorted loudly. ‘The police
in Reykjavik know nothing if they think Markus harmed a hair on Alda’s
head,’ he exclaimed. ‘That boy used to think the sun shone out of
her in the old days, and although teenage crushes aren’t the kind of
thing I’d usually notice, everyone knew about it.
With
the possible exception of Alda.
Even Gudni says the arrest is
ridiculous, and he’s made a few blunders in his career.’
Although Thóra was pleased to hear
Paddi’s opinion of the case, she wasn’t looking for witnesses to
Markus’s character. ‘Have you any thoughts on who the men in
the basement might have been?’ she said. ‘It’s fairly clear
that they were foreigners.’
‘Yes, Brits, I believe,’ said
Paddi. Obviously he hadn’t been exaggerating when he said news spread
quickly in the Islands. ‘There were no Brits here the night of the
eruption, if that’s your question.’
‘What about shortly before that?’
asked Thóra.
‘Anyone who could have disappeared,
but who people thought had simply gone away?
When someone disappears,
people don’t automatically assume they’ve been killed.
Especially not a group of men.’
‘There were several foreigners in the
Islands about a week before the volcano blew,’ he said. ‘But they
were gone before it went up.
Long gone.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked
Thóra. ‘Is it possible they didn’t go far, maybe just down
into the basement on Sudurvegur Street?’
‘No, no,’ said Paddi, steering
towards a gannet that had taken off from the water as they approached. ‘I
watched them sail away. They were a bunch of numbskulls. They sailed out of the
harbour in pretty bad weather. Their old tub was a bit beaten up, and I thought
they should have repaired it before continuing their journey. So I kept an eye
on them. But they definitely made it out.’
‘I’ve spoken to a lot of people,
and not a single one has mentioned this to me,’ said Thóra,
surprised. ‘Is it because you have a better memory, or is there something
else going on?’
Paddi turned to smile at her.
‘Naturally, some people have a better memory than others,’ he said.
‘In this case there’s nothing going on, there’s a simple
explanation: the smack didn’t stop here for long. It came in the evening
and sailed away early the next morning, without many people noticing it.’
‘But you saw it leave?’ said
Thóra.
‘Yes, I always had one foot down at the
harbour, still
have
. Not much has changed. My wife
used to suggest that we hire a bulldozer and push the house down there to spare
me the to-ing and fro-ing.’ He looked up at the sky. ‘May God rest
her
soul.
’ He resumed his story — much to
Thóra’s relief, since she never knew what to say at moments like
these. ‘So I was messing around down there, securing my boat because the
forecast was bad, as I recall, when this smack came sailing into the harbour.
The men were yapping something at me in a foreign language, and even though I
didn’t understand the words I realized they were asking for mooring. I
pointed them to an empty space and that was that.’
‘Do you know what nationality they
were, or how many of them were on board?’ asked Thóra.
Paddi the Hook shook his head. ‘Bloody
limeys, I think,’ he said. ‘I counted two, but there could have
been more as it was quite a big boat.’
‘And when was it they left, given that
it seems no one but you saw them?
In the middle of the
night?’
‘No, love,’ said Paddi.
‘They waited out the worst of the weather, since their boat wasn’t
exactly in the best condition. If I could have spoken to them man to man, in
Icelandic, I would have pointed out that they could have repaired most of the
damage here, with us. But it didn’t get to that stage, because I was up
early the next morning and watched through the kitchen window as they sailed
away. Although it was dark outside it was clearly them, because the harbour was
lit. I recognized their smack as it travelled out to sea. They definitely
left.’
‘Do you by any chance recall the name
of the boat?’ asked Thóra.
‘No, I don’t,’ he replied,
avoiding her glance. ‘I’m not so good at reading, I don’t
mind admitting. It actually hasn’t been too much of a problem —
I’m more one for working with my hands, and it’s often easier when
book-learning’s not getting in your way.’
She smiled at him. ‘But you have got a
good memory. How can you remember this, for example? Hundreds of boats must
have been through this harbour; what was so special about this smack?’
‘There was nothing that special about
it - it was a fairly good-looking boat and all that, but it’s true that
other, better boats have stopped here.’ He looked back out over the
rudder. ‘I remember it so clearly because of what happened the next
morning, when Tolli discovered blood on the pier where it had been
moored.’
Thóra’s expression revealed
nothing, although she was very excited. ‘I’m guessing you mean the
weekend before the eruption?’ she asked. ‘I’ve heard
about this but I understood that no boat had been anchored there for a long
time before the blood was found.’ She decided not to tell him where
she’d heard this, since she preferred not to advertise the fact that she
and Bella had been snooping through Gudni’s files.
‘That’s because no one knew the
smack had been there but me,’ Paddi replied. ‘When I left the
harbour it was there, but for some reason the men moved it from that pontoon
over to one located a bit further to the east. I watched them sail away, but
I’ve never understood why they moved the boat. Maybe the weather seemed
worse in the place I pointed them to.’
‘Did you tell anyone about the
boat?’ said Thóra. She was surprised this hadn’t come up in
Gudni’s report, although there was a chance she and Bella had overlooked
it in their haste.
‘No, actually I didn’t,’
said Paddi. ‘No doubt I would have done eventually, but then the volcano
went up and I had other things to think about. No one asked me, and then I had
the feeling that this information might be used against someone. So I decided
to wait and see, and Mother Nature decided for me. I have to admit that since
the bodies were found in Maggi’s - Markus’s father’s - house
I’ve often wondered about that blood on the pier, and I expect I’m
not the only one.’
‘Do you mean the harbour-master who
discovered the blood?’
‘No, he’s long dead, the old
man,’ replied Paddi. ‘I was thinking about Inspector Leifsson, for
starters, not to mention all the locals who came down to see it for themselves.
You don’t see that quantity of blood on the pier just from a large catch
of fish.’
Thóra thought for a moment.
‘I’m sure you know who Dadi was,’ she said. ‘He was
seen there that morning. Do you think he could have had something to do with
the blood?’
‘That boring old bastard?’ said
Paddi bluntly. ‘He may have, though I doubt it. Dadi was a lazy coward
who wouldn’t say
boo
to a goose. He was a real
drip, not like a proper Islander. His father wasn’t born here, you
know.’
‘So do you think he was telling the
truth when he denied knowing anything about the blood?’
‘I didn’t say that. He could have
known more than he let on. Actually, he wasn’t the only one seen there -
just the only one the police knew about.’
‘Really?’ exclaimed Thóra.
‘There were others there? Why was this kept secret?’
‘I should make something clear before
we go any further, so there’s no misunderstanding,’ said Paddi.
‘Maggi was a decent fellow. He was a hard worker from the old school, who
wasn’t afraid of anything and worked like a dog for his family. He deserves
everything that he has, and I don’t know of anyone who thinks he got it
through any funny business. Leifur is a good man too; Markus I only knew as a
child, a cheeky little monkey, good fun.’
‘But?’ said Thóra.
‘Praise like that is usually followed by a “but”.’
Paddi smiled at her. ‘But,’ he
said, no humour in his voice, ‘when Maggi got ill and started losing his
grip… Look, everyone knows about his condition although Leifur tries to
keep it secret. He took over the company from his dad, and people are getting
worried about how it’s going. Maria doesn’t bother to hide the fact
that she’d rather live anywhere else but here. If they move, the company
will be sold and the only ones who’d have the means to buy it would be
big-city fat cats. And they would move the fishing rights somewhere where it
would be more profitable to fit out the ships and process the catch. You might
say Leifur has the whole community by the short and curlies, so everyone
tiptoes around for fear of offending him. There are others to whom some of us
owe our livelihood, but he’s the one who looks like he’s
leaving.’
‘I see,’ said Thóra. She
knew that the Islanders’ fears were not ungrounded - in such a small
community, every employer mattered. ‘And you think Leifur uses this to
keep people quiet?’ She was starting to convince herself that Magnus had
been one of those seen down at the harbour that fateful night.