Authors: Yrsa Sigurdardottir,Katherine Manners,Hodder,Stoughton
Tags: #Suspense, #Thriller & Suspense, #Crime, #Mystery, #Thrillers & Suspense
Why Did You Lie?
Why Did You Lie?
Yrsa Sigurdardottir & Katherine Manners & Hodder & Stoughton
Hodder & Stoughton (2016)
Tags: Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Mystery, Thrillers & Suspense, Crime, Suspense
Mystery; Thriller & Suspensettt Mysteryttt Thrillers & Suspensettt Crimettt Suspensettt
A standalone thriller from the prizewinning queen of Nordic noir and author of the Thora Gudmundsdottir series.
A chilling thriller from the author of
The Silence of the Sea
, winner of the 2015 Petrona Award for best Scandinavian Crime Novel.
A journalist on the track of an old case attempts suicide. An ordinary couple return from a house swap in the states to find their home in disarray and their guests seemingly missing. Four strangers struggle to find shelter on a windswept spike of rock in the middle of a raging sea. They have one thing in common: they all lied. And someone is determined to punish them....
Why Did You Lie?
is a terrifying tale of long-delayed retribution from Iceland's queen of suspense.
**
Contents
Also by Yrsa Sigurdardóttir
Last Rituals
My Soul to Take
Ashes to Dust
The Day is Dark
I Remember You
Someone to Watch Over Me
The Silence of the Sea
The Undesired
About the Author
Yrsa Sigurdardóttir works as a civil engineer in Reykjavík. Her books for children have won prizes and great acclaim.
Why Did You Lie?
is her ninth adult novel.
About the Translator
Victoria Cribb studied and worked in Iceland for many years. She has translated numerous novels from the Icelandic, including works by Arnaldur Indridason and Sjón.
WHY DID YOU LIE?
Yrsa Sigurdardóttir
Translated from the Icelandic by Victoria Cribb
First published in Great Britain in 2016 by Hodder & Stoughton
An Hachette UK company
First published with the title
Lygi
in 2013 by Veröld Publishing, Reykjavík
Copyright © 2013 Yrsa Sigurdardóttir
English translation © Victoria Cribb 2016
The right of Yrsa Sigurdardóttir to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library
Hardback ISBN 9781473605053
eBook ISBN 9781473605022
Hodder & Stoughton Ltd
Carmelite House
50 Victoria Embankment
London EC4Y 0DZ
This book is dedicated to Kristín Halla Jónsdóttir and Sigurdur B. Thorsteinsson – I couldn’t have asked for better parents.
—Yrsa
Pronunciation guide
NB: The stress always falls on the first syllable in Icelandic
Character names (nicknames in brackets)
Helgi – Hel-ghee
Heida – Hey-tha
Tóti – Toe-tee
Ívar – Eee-var
Nína – Nee-na
Thröstur – Thros-dur
Nói – Noh-wee
Vala – Vaa-la
Tumi – Tu-mee
Púki – Poo-kee
Berglind – Berg-lint
Örvar – Err-var
Stefán (Stebbi) – Ste-fown (Stebbee)
Thorbjörg (Tobba) – Thor-byerg (Tobba)
Dóri – Doh-ree
Bylgja – Bil-gya
Steini – Stain-ee
Lárus (Lalli) – Lao-roos (Lal-lee)
Aldís – Al-dees
Places
Thrídrangar – Three-drown-gar
Stóridrangur – Stohree-drown-goor
Skerjafjördur – Scare-ya-fyerth-oor
Prologue
28 January 2014
Control: TF-LÍF, report your progress.
TF-LÍF: Visual with the Thrídrangar stacks. Overhead in five minutes.
Control: Keep your eyes peeled. Since visibility’s good, scan the surface of the sea; see if you can spot the missing man.
TF-LÍF: Roger. Is he wearing a life jacket?
Control: Negative, unlikely. He’s believed dead.
TF-LÍF: Roger. Negative visual. Looking. Could he have sunk?
Control: Possible. He’s been in the sea long enough for the air to have left the body by now. It’s too early for him to float up again. The sea’s so damn cold – it’s unlikely gases will have formed yet.
TF-LÍF: Have they checked the currents?
Control: Affirm. They think he could wash up near Hafnarvík. But Landeyjasandur’s also a possibility. Precise information about the time he entered the water is unavailable.
TF-LÍF: Roger.
Control: We have an update: the police car’s arrived at the hangar so there’ll be a reception committee waiting when you get back to base.
TF-LÍF: [
Static, inaudible.
]
Control: Say again last message, TF-LÍF; you’re breaking up.
TF-LÍF: You didn’t miss much. We’ve only got three nautical miles to go and have a very clear visual on the stack.
Control: Can you see the ground party?
TF-LÍF: Negative. Perhaps when we get closer.
Control: How’s the policeman doing? Bearing up?
TF-LÍF: Fine, I believe. Conditions could hardly be better. I’ll ask. [
Static, inaudible.
] Yes, he’s doing OK. Not looking too queasy yet. We’ll see after the descent.
Control: Yes. [
Laughter.
]
TF-LÍF: We’re reducing speed. There’s an object floating less than one nautical mile to the west of the stack. We’re going to check it out.
Control: Roger. Though I’d be surprised if it’s the missing man. He should have drifted much further by now.
TF-LÍF: I’m looking through the binoculars. [
Interference, crackling.
] It’s a body. Damn.
Control: Any chance he’s still alive?
TF-LÍF: Negative. Floating face down. No normal movement.
Control: Roger. That was to be expected. It must be the missing man. You’ll have to fetch him after you’ve picked up the ground party. Those were the orders. How do you read me?
TF-LÍF: Loud and clear. We’re turning back. He’s not going anywhere. [
Interference.
] What the hell … Control, control, are you still there?
Control: Affirm. Go ahead.
TF-LÍF: We’ve spotted another body. By the foot of the cliff; probably snagged on a rock.
Control: What? Are you sure?
TF-LÍF: Quite sure. It’s a person. Dead.
Control: Christ. You’ve only got one body bag, haven’t you?
TF-LÍF: Roger. We understood there was only one casualty. How should we proceed?
Control: Pick up both. Use the stretcher for the second body and cover it with a blanket. I’ll get confirmation while you’re evacuating the ground party. You may have to return to base and make another trip if the passengers object. But two trips would cost more; the finance department will want it done in one.
TF-LÍF: Wilco. Overhead the stack now. I don’t know how to tell you this, but there’s another body lying on the steps outside the lighthouse. And a second figure kneeling over it. The person on the ground appears to be male; the other’s almost certainly the woman. It’s not looking good.
Control: Is the man all right?
TF-LÍF: No sign of movement. But he could be asleep. Shit. [
More expletives, interference.
]
Control: TF-LÍF, this is control. Report your situation.
TF-LÍF: The woman’s got a knife. She appears to have stabbed the man in the side or chest. I can’t get a proper visual. He’s still not moving.
Control: When ready, start winching. Lower our man first, the police officer second.
TF-LÍF: Wilco. Stand by; I need to help get the men ready. Holy shit.
Control: What now?
TF-LÍF: There’s something seriously wrong with the woman. She’s screaming at the sky – at us, apparently. No, hang on. I think she’s laughing.
Control: Tell our man to be careful when he lands. To unhook himself immediately and be prepared for the woman to attack. If she’s got a knife, he’ll need to take extra care. Brief him that he’s cleared to use force if necessary. And remind him that there’s very little room for manoeuvre down there. We don’t want him falling off. It’s vital that he sits tight as long as she shows no sign of approaching. He’s not to move from the helipad until the cop’s been lowered.
TF-LÍF: Wilco. Gaui’s going down first. Then the cop. I’ll pass on the rest of the briefing.
Control: Good luck.
TF-LÍF: Thanks. This is seriously fucked up. [
Interference. Communication breaks off.
]
Chapter 1
26 January 2014
Helgi has a sense of déjà vu, as if he has made this journey before. He can only remember snatches of his dream but as the flight progresses more comes back to him. Nothing too weird; just predictable details that his subconscious must have anticipated last night: the sinking in his stomach as the helicopter takes off, the numbness in the soles of his feet caused by the vibration of the metal fuselage, the uneasy feeling that he’s forgotten something important at home. But other details don’t fit: his fellow passengers, for example, are quite different from those in his dream, though he can’t for the life of him recall what they had looked like. Nor can he remember how the adventure ended just before the alarm clock jarred him into wakefulness, still tired and groggy from his restless night. He’s not used to rising this early in winter, as there’s not much point in a photographer getting up before first light. And it turned out he could have enjoyed a lie-in after all since the flight was delayed several times before they finally got the green light around midday. But his dream still troubles him, perhaps because when he went to bed he had been under the impression that only the two of them would be going – himself and Ívar, the man who had told him about this adventure in the first place. Only at the airport had he learnt that there would be two additional passengers. This odd coincidence following on from his dream bothered him more than he cared to admit.