2012
Once Helgi was sitting behind the wheel again, about to start the car and head home, he noticed that someone had tried to ring him. Looking the number up, he saw that it belonged to Elín’s cousin, Orri, the university lecturer in the polo-neck jumper.
He sighed and decided to return the call while he was still parked. Come to think of it, he should probably also let Kristín know what had happened before the end of the day.
‘Is that Helgi? From the police?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Ah, sorry to bother you. I just rang to ask if there was any news of my cousin.’
And her legacy, no doubt , Helgi thought cynically.
‘It’s a good thing you rang,’ he said, ‘as I was going to call you anyway. You see, there has been a rather unexpected development.’
‘What? Is she dead?’
For a moment Helgi got the impression that Orri was hoping the answer to the question would be yes. That he would get his hands on all the wealth, though it would in fact never be his. Fate was playing a cruel game with the philosopher.
Helgi delayed answering as long as he could, before eventually replying: ‘Yes, I’m afraid all the indications are that she died during a hike in the mountains. We’re going to look for her body at first light tomorrow. I’m very sorry to have to tell you this.’
‘Oh, that’s terrible, absolutely terrible, but not entirely unexpected. Nothing else could have explained it. Poor, dear Ella.’
‘It’s also emerged that she had a daughter,’ Helgi said, without stopping to think, but he couldn’t control the urge to bring the philosopher back down to earth and make it brutally clear to him – if not in as many words – that he wouldn’t be the sole heir to the bestselling author’s fortune.
‘I’m sorry? Who did?’ Only now did Orri sound genuinely moved, even distressed, Helgi thought. But perhaps he was reading too much into the man’s tone.
‘Your cousin, Elín. We haven’t quite got to the bottom of the matter yet, but everything will be clarified in the near future. It goes without saying that you must keep the news to yourself, but it seems you’ve got a cousin you weren’t aware of.’
‘That can’t be possible, Helgi. There must be some mistake. Ella didn’t have any children,’ Orri said firmly. ‘No, she didn’t have any children, I’m absolutely sure of that.’
‘Well, we’ll see.’
‘I refuse to believe it.’
‘Anyway, I’m afraid I’ve got to run, Orri,’ Helgi said, then added: ‘By the way, I think you’d like her – Elín’s daughter, I mean.’ On the other hand, Helgi wasn’t sure the feeling would be reciprocated.
He rang off, then immediately put through a call to Kristín. The car windows had misted up in the rain.
‘Hello?’ She sounded cheerful.
‘Kristín? This is Helgi, from the police.’
‘Oh, hello,’ she said. ‘How nice to hear from you again.’
‘I went round to see Lovísa,’ Helgi said, without elaborating.
‘OK, right, I see…’ After a pause, she asked: ‘And did she kill Elín?’
‘No, but Elín is dead.’
‘OK.’
Helgi had been expecting a stronger reaction from her, although the news wouldn’t necessarily come as a shock.
After all, Kristín would never have a chance to see her mother again, never get an answer to all the personal questions she hadn’t been permitted to ask during the interview.
A disappointment she would no doubt deal with in private.
‘We’re going to retrieve her body tomorrow,’ Helgi said, after a brief pause. ‘If what Lovísa told me is true, Elín had a heart attack while they were in the mountains together.’
‘Thank you for letting me know.’
‘Let’s talk properly tomorrow, Kristín, if that’s OK.
I realize there’s a lot for you to take in.
The inheritance, the interview – if you still want to publish it, given what’s happened.
Elín also left behind an unpublished manuscript, and I expect it’ll be up to you to decide whether it should see the light of day. ’
‘Right, yes. And the funeral – maybe I can be involved with that in some capacity?’
‘Yes, I’d have thought so. In due course, perhaps I can put you in touch with your mother’s cousin, a university lecturer. He’s her closest relative – was, I mean… You two should meet.’
‘Yes.’
‘Call me if you need anything, Kristín. Otherwise, shall we talk tomorrow?’ Helgi was eager to head off home to the warmth and Aníta.
‘Thanks for calling, Helgi.’
Then, belatedly, he remembered one more thing. ‘Oh, yes. Listen, there was one other thing I meant to say.’
‘Oh? What’s that?’
‘Lovísa told me who your father is. He’s alive, still going strong. And he has two grown-up children, so you have a half-brother and -sister.’