2012
‘Let me get this right – you’re saying you can’t get hold of her?’
The man in the polo-neck jumper seated opposite Helgi was tall, with a long face and an almost totally bald head.
He was holding a brimming mug but still hadn’t taken a sip of his coffee, perhaps for fear of spilling it on his cream-coloured trousers.
His face was a picture of surprise, his eyes almost starting out of his head, and he punctuated his words with a heavy sigh.
‘No one’s seen or heard from her for over a week,’ Helgi replied.
He had managed to pull himself together and shrug off the discomfort he had felt earlier that afternoon.
‘Well I never. This is news to me. Is it a police matter? I haven’t read anything about it in the papers. I mean, I’m sure I wouldn’t have failed to notice.’
‘Orri, you’re closely related to Elín, aren’t you?’
The man nodded. A brief background check had established that he lectured in philosophy at the University of Iceland, a post he’d held for several years. He was around Helgi’s own age, or perhaps a few years older.
‘She doesn’t have any closer relatives than me, at any rate.
My grandfather was Elín’s paternal uncle and the families used to see a lot of each other.
They both lived in the west end of town.
My grandfather owned an elegant villa on the seafront on AEgisída, sadly no longer in the family, and Elín lived with her parents in a block of flats on Vídimelur.
Life was often a bit of a struggle for them, but my grandfather did well; in fact, he raked it in as a lawyer.
He had only the one child, my father – who’s passed away too – and my parents only had me.
And Elín is an only child, as you know, and has no children of her own.
So it’s not a big family, as you can hear. ’
They were sitting at an uncomfortable little table in the cafeteria in Oddi, the social sciences building. There were students milling around, but none appeared to be paying them any attention.
‘When did you last hear from her?’ Helgi asked.
Orri paused to deliberate, for an unnecessarily long time, Helgi thought.
Was he really struggling to recall the last time they’d been in touch or was he trying to make up a cover story?
No doubt Helgi was being over-suspicious, but then he never took anything for granted in this job.
It was safest to assume that everyone had something to hide, since that did generally turn out to be the case.
Even bald university lecturers in polo-neck jumpers had their secrets.
‘Um, it must have been some time in the autumn, I can’t remember exactly when.
Hang on a minute, yes, she rang me back in September, on the anniversary of Grandad’s death.
She did that pretty much every year. Used to look out for me, as none of the older generation are left now, apart from her.
You see, Elín was very fond of the old man – my grandad.
She admired him. I remember her telling me once that she’d originally meant to become a lawyer like him, but then found that teaching suited her better.
I’ve sometimes wondered if I didn’t become a teacher myself because I had such a good example in Cousin Ella.
I was seven or eight when she had her big breakthrough as a writer, so I’ve always looked up to her, and of course I knew she’d been a teacher before she became an author. These things go in cycles, you see.’
Helgi was beginning to feel as if he was being lectured to. Orri took a brief pause for breath, but before Helgi could get a word in edgeways, the lecturer continued, now with more vehemence:
‘Really, you’ll have to tell me a bit more than this. I’m not accustomed to getting visits from the police. Has something happened? Is that what you believe? I mean, just because it’s been hard to get hold of Ella for a few days…’
‘We simply don’t know, that’s why I’m here. May I ask – you may have no idea – but do you think she could have been battling some kind of illness? Or depression?’
‘Ella?’ Orri shook his head. ‘I don’t believe that for a minute.
Of course, I’m aware that sort of thing isn’t always obvious to onlookers, but she was fit as a fiddle, always going on walking trips around the country, whenever the weather was good, whatever the season.
Is there any chance she could have got lost in…
’ He broke off abruptly. ‘No, impossible.’
‘Why?’
‘Because she’d never go walking alone, I’m sure of that.
She’s so careful. She doesn’t like taking risks.
She loves life, does Ella. Yes. But depressed…
Maybe I’m overstating it a bit, but there’s always been a kind of invisible screen around her, as if she doesn’t want to let you come too close, as if she’s nursing some secret sorrow that might otherwise come to the surface.
But isn’t that the case with all poets, all writers?
They need a bit of pain in order to create enduring art? ’
‘You’re the philosopher, not me,’ Helgi replied.
‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Studying philosophy doesn’t automatically make you a philosopher. Listen, should I maybe try calling her?’
Helgi smiled.
‘No, what am I talking about?’ Orri said.
‘Of course, she doesn’t have a mobile phone.
She’s old-fashioned like that. Writes her books by hand and rings people from her landline.
Sometimes I don’t understand her, but I can’t help appreciating that kind of eccentricity.
’ He belatedly took a sip of his brimming coffee, by some unbelievable feat of dexterity managing to hold his mug so steady that he didn’t spill a drop.
‘What secret sorrow?’ Helgi asked quietly, talking more to himself than Orri, his mind working.
‘Sorry?’
‘Excuse me. Are you saying that you think your cousin had a secret? Something that might explain the situation that’s arisen?’
‘The situation that’s arisen, you say. You police don’t have much time for sensitivity, do you? You mean, anything that could explain why my cousin has gone missing?’
Helgi nodded, refusing to let Orri rile him.
‘I don’t believe so. She’s had a spotless record for as long as I’ve known her, has Cousin Ella.
I doubt she’s ever so much as got a parking ticket, let alone anything more serious.
I expect she got any bad stuff out of her system in her books.
Isn’t it often the way? People write the darkness out of themselves. ’
‘Do you rate her books?’
‘That’s a strange question.’ The philosopher smiled.
‘Yes, I grew up with them, started reading them in my teens. Her stories had a certain charm, but then I wasn’t exactly unbiased.
My parents were terribly proud to be related to her.
For a long time they hoped I would be a writer too.
Of course, I’m always writing something – it’s in the genes – though with me it’s more academic articles or reflections of a general nature. No murders in my case.’
Helgi rose to his feet. Elín’s cousin could provide no answers to the only question that mattered: Elín’s current whereabouts.
But Orri sat fast.
‘It’ll all land on me, then,’ he said reflectively.
‘What?’
‘All the hassle, if Cousin Ella is dead. That’s going to be quite a tall order – winding up her estate, organizing the funeral.
Since I’m her closest relative. To be honest, I’ve never stopped to think about it before; about the fact that I’ll be responsible for helping the nation mourn their favourite writer.
Well I never. Still, it can’t be helped.
Let’s just hope the dear woman gets in touch very soon… ’
‘Yes, of course, that’s what we both hope.’
‘How does it work, by the way?’
‘How does what work?’
‘Well, I don’t quite understand. Is she already presumed dead?’
‘Dead?’
‘Yes, given that no one’s heard from her for a while.’
‘Actually, it’s not that simple. It can take quite a long time for someone to be officially declared dead.’ Helgi tried to remember the time frame – he’d read up on it once. ‘Anything up to three years, if my memory is correct, but it can probably be shorter in certain circumstances…’
‘Three years, you say…’
Helgi could have sworn there was a hint of disappointment in Orri’s expression.
‘I’m sure you’ll sort it out – you’ll find her, I mean,’ the philosopher said after a pause.
‘I’m confident of that.’
‘It’s quite a fortune she’s built up, I understand.’
Helgi didn’t reply.
‘Am I right? Or haven’t you looked into that yet? I remember hearing it somewhere – a pretty healthy annual income, way more than your average author. How much do you reckon we’re talking about?’
‘I really couldn’t say. We haven’t been focusing on that side of things. It’s hardly a priority at this stage.’
‘No, no, fair enough. Of course not. The most important thing is that Ella is safe.’ Orri stood up at last. ‘Although I’m not religious, I’ll pray for her.’