Read Someone to Watch Over Me Online

Authors: Yrsa Sigurdardottir

Tags: #Crime, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction

Someone to Watch Over Me (16 page)

BOOK: Someone to Watch Over Me
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‘I’m so pleased that you took on this case.’ Jósteinn smiled. He seemed to be staring at Thóra’s stomach. ‘So pleased.’ His sour-smelling breath nearly made her gag, and she stepped back involuntarily, hitting the back of her head against the wall.

‘Yes, well, I don’t know yet whether it will have the intended result, but I believe there’s reason to continue.’ Her head hurt so much that she felt like crying. ‘Actually, I feel I must inform you that due to your and Jakob’s special circumstances, there’s a limit to how much I can update you on the progress of the case. Many elements of what I find out will remain confidential between me, Jakob and his mother. That’s non-negotiable.’

Jósteinn smiled, revealing his yellow teeth. His gaze had shifted to her arm now. ‘I wouldn’t suggest anything different.’

‘How can I get a budget to you? It would be best for you to approve it before we go any further. I can also send you a breakdown of the time that’s already been spent on the investigation. Do you have an e-mail account, or access to a fax machine?’

A dry rattle that was probably meant to be laughter emerged from Jósteinn’s throat, and again his bad breath overwhelmed her. ‘No chance. We don’t have Internet or phone access. You’ll have to ask them out front whether you can send a fax to me via the office. I think they could manage to waste one single sheet of paper on me.’

Thóra didn’t like his sarcastic tone, or anything else about him. Once again he had too much gel in his hair. He really seemed to have gone to town with it. ‘OK, I’ll get them to agree to that.’ Thóra hoped his isolation from the outside world didn’t apply to banking matters. Perhaps he couldn’t pay her after all; maybe he had never even intended to do so.

As if Jósteinn had read her thoughts, he announced, ‘I’ll get my supervisor to sort out all the payments, although that might not be within his official remit.’ He pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Thóra. ‘This is his name and phone number. You can call him when you want to get paid.’ He smiled again, now with his eyes closed. ‘Or to reassure yourself that I have enough money.’

Thóra looked at the handwritten details. Each letter was drawn with great care and it looked as if Jósteinn had used an old-fashioned fountain pen. But she wouldn’t need to keep the piece of paper because she was very familiar with the name, and even the number.
Ari Gunnarsson
. What a strange coincidence.

Chapter
10
Sunday,
10
January
2010

‘I hope Grandma and Grandpa will always be with us.’ Sóley grinned happily and put down her toast, which was sagging beneath the weight of the jam slathered on it. ‘It’s much nicer having
them
in the garage, instead of a load of old boxes.’

Thóra returned her daughter’s smile as she took the last plate from the dishwasher. The machine had been in constant use, apart from at the dead of night, since her parents had moved in the previous evening. Once the household was at full capacity the washing machine would be going every waking hour as well. ‘Yes, it’s a nice change, isn’t it?’

‘Orri speeterman!’ Three members of the household were awake: Thóra, Sóley and Thóra’s grandson, who was two and a half. Ever since someone had given him a Spiderman T-shirt, he thought he was a superhero. The boy still had some way to go before he could be considered a great orator, but he was starting to speak more.

Sóley opened her mouth to correct her nephew, but stopped and took a bite of toast instead. ‘Oh, yeah. You need to help me find a costume. It’s Kolla’s birthday tomorrow and we’re supposed to wear fancy dress.’ It was doubtful that many people besides her mother would have understood her with her mouth full.

‘When’s the party?’ Thóra knew it had to be today or tomorrow; Sóley had made it her speciality to let her mother know about such things with the smallest possible amount of notice.

‘Later today.’ Sóley swallowed her huge mouthful dramatically.

Although Thóra was sorely tempted to suggest that she go as the Invisible Man, with her costume being that she didn’t turn up, she decided not to. ‘Maybe Grandma and Grandpa can help you.’

Sóley agreed to this, beaming. ‘When is everyone going to wake up, anyway? I think they’ve slept long enough.’

‘Everyone’s tired after last night. We’ll just let them sleep.’ All working together, Thóra and Matthew, her parents, Thóra’s son Gylfi and his girlfriend Sigga had made space in the garage and set up a bed and other essentials for the newest members of the household. While they worked, Sóley had looked after Orri; but the toddler had kept trying to help with the move, which was met with limited enthusiasm by the movers. The garage had been crammed with stuff, and they hadn’t had time to sort through everything that had been shoved in there. Instead, some of it had been put in the basement and the rest out in the shed in the garden. The shed hadn’t been used much up to that point, but now it couldn’t hold another thing. ‘They’ll be up before we know it, demanding coffee and cakes.’

‘Speeterman.’ Orri looked down at his chest, enraptured by the costumed man on his shirt. His breakfast lay untouched on the table in front of him, since he couldn’t take his eyes off the superhero for long enough to eat.

‘Spi-der-man, not speeterman.’ Sóley had finally tired of the endless repetition. ‘He’s called Spi-der-man.’

‘Speeterman.’ Orri neither looked away from the image nor let his language coach distract him.

‘Why can’t he talk better, Mum?’ Sóley’s frustration didn’t surprise Thóra; her daughter had long been comparing Orri to her best friend’s sister, who was the same age, and the little boy was far behind her in terms of language development.

‘He can say quite a few other things, so don’t worry about it. He’ll be chattering away before you know it, and then you’ll miss the time when he hardly said anything.’ Sóley obviously disagreed with this, so Thóra quickly changed the subject. ‘Did you feed Mjása this morning?’ Unexpectedly, the family cat hadn’t shown itself when Thóra came into the kitchen; usually it was the very first one to demand food in the morning, and feeding it was how she started most of her days.

Sóley nodded and swallowed the last bite of toast. ‘She couldn’t wait for you. I think she was dying of hunger.’

‘As always.’ The cat ate several times a day and didn’t appear any the worse for it, since despite its apparently bottomless appetite, it always stayed quite slim. If it was indoors and someone so much as walked past the kitchen it would be there, mewing pitifully in the hope of getting fed. ‘It wouldn’t have wanted to wait for sleepy old me.’ Thóra hadn’t been able to find her mobile phone when they were all finally able to go to bed, and she hadn’t felt like calling it to locate it. As a result, she hadn’t set an alarm and had slept late. Now she caught a glimpse of the phone under a crumpled tea towel on the kitchen sideboard. She reached for it and saw that while she was sleeping she’d missed a phone call, and received a text. That was unusual. No one ever called her at night nowadays; the time when she could expect messages from tipsy girlfriends downtown, telling her about late-night parties was long gone, and although she recalled those days fondly, she didn’t miss them. Perhaps the same wasn’t true of one of her girlfriends, who simply had to tell Thóra about some cute man she’d just met. The screen said
Number withheld
when Thóra tried to view the details of the call. She could see that it had been around three o’clock, long after she’d vanished into dreamland. The text had come five minutes later. It was sent from ja.is, which meant that there was no way of knowing whether it was from the same person as the missed call, although that seemed likely. If so, the person in question had been at a computer or accessed the Internet through their phone. Several of her friends had smartphones that they bragged about at every conceivable – and inconceivable – opportunity. She opened the text, though she thought she could guess what was in it:
Leave your man at home and come to the party
or
Guess who I went home with?
In fact the only thing that she couldn’t predict was how many smiley faces would follow the message.

When she read the text she was so surprised that she dropped the phone into the sink with a
thunk
. Sóley looked at her inquisitively and even Orri tore his eyes from Spiderman for the first time since being put in his chair. Thóra reached for her mobile phone, which was lying between two coffee cups, thankfully dry and intact. The screen was still backlit and the black letters blared provocatively at her:
Who raped Lísa? Whose child is it?
Both very good questions, but the one uppermost in Thóra’s mind was: ‘Who sent this message?’

Matthew put down the phone, let himself fall back onto the pillow and yawned. ‘Is the shower free?’

‘The
shower
?’ Thóra grabbed the phone back. ‘Who cares about that? Don’t you think this is weird? It’s the third time I’ve got this kind of message; I received two the other day, but I ignored them because I thought they’d come to me by accident. One of them just said
Pregnant
, but the other was
How did Helena get burned as a child?
You have to admit it’s pretty strange. I have them here if you want to see; luckily I didn’t delete them.’

‘Okay, no, no need. It is very odd, I’ll certainly admit that.’ Matthew closed his eyes. ‘I’m just not really awake yet.’

‘No, obviously not.’ The light of the phone’s screen faded, although the text was still visible through the grey. ‘The thing is, not many people know that I’m investigating this case. In fact, I can only think of two: the lazybones lawyer, Ari, and the woman who used to run the centre, Glódís. I’m fairly certain Jakob’s mother didn’t know where I was going with the questions about Lísa, and Jakob had no clue. And besides, he doesn’t have access to either the Internet or a phone.’

‘But why would Ari or Glódís send a message like this?’ Matthew was starting to perk up, though he sneaked in a deep yawn. ‘What’s the purpose of these questions? To get you to dig around to find out who the father is? I wouldn’t have thought either of them would want to draw attention to that. He admitted how he only skimmed through the files, and she was very open about how little she thought of her clients.’

‘Well, I don’t know, maybe one of them was drunk and wanted to stir things up.’

Matthew pushed himself up onto one elbow. ‘Isn’t that a bit far-fetched?’ He cocked his head to listen, then smiled when he realized that the shower was free.

‘Yes.’ Thóra put her phone in her pocket. ‘But it simply couldn’t be anyone else. I can’t think of anyone, anyway.’

‘I don’t suppose the woman, Glódís, discussed it with someone at work, and they then took it personally? Maybe a former employee of the centre who was unhappy with the outcome of the case?’

‘Maybe.’ Thóra relaxed her forehead and her worry-lines disappeared. ‘I also had another idea. Sóley’s going to her friend’s birthday party where the kids are supposed to wear costumes, and it made me think of a possible explanation for the angel Jakob mentioned. The home burned down in October – the month of Halloween. It’s becoming more and more popular and there may have been a fancy dress party in the neighbourhood, even though the fire didn’t occur on the thirty-first.’

Matthew looked unconvinced. ‘I seriously doubt it.’

‘But it wouldn’t hurt to check.’

Matthew got up, put on a bathrobe and headed to the shower, and Thóra took out the centre’s employee list and sat down with it in front of the computer. First she attempted to find any reference to a fancy dress party somewhere in the vicinity of the residence on the night of the fire, but she found nothing, not even when she widened the search parameters to include the entire city. The idea was probably too far-fetched, as Matthew had said. Sóley and Orri were staring transfixed at a cartoon on TV, so she had total peace and quiet, for the moment at least. Disappointed at not having got anywhere with her idea about the costume party, she decided to investigate whether any of the people on the list still worked for the Regional Office. This proved easier than she’d hoped. The office maintained a website that listed the names of its employees, although it didn’t specify who did what, so she couldn’t determine whether a particular person worked with Glódís at the main office or in a community residence in town. The office managed a total of twenty-eight homes, but only their directors were named on the site. Thóra recognized only one name from the list of former employees: Elías Þráinsson, who had been promoted, which must have been painful for Glódís to witness. Thóra suspected that despite her bitching and moaning about her workload, Glódís had it pretty easy where she was; at least, her phone hadn’t rung once during her meeting with Thóra. Other phones in the office had hardly seemed to shut up. The fire must have been a blow to Glódís’s career, even if only for the revelation of Lísa’s pregnancy and the fact that the security system hadn’t been set up yet. Of course Glódís couldn’t be blamed for the fire, but someone had failed in their duties.

She saw that approximately half of those people on the list still worked in the Regional Office. Except for Elías, Thóra couldn’t find out what jobs they did, despite searching everywhere, and she wondered whether it actually mattered. Since the person sending the messages was in the habit of covering their tracks, they’d hardly be likely to admit sending the messages or say what was on their mind. It might be more useful to stop trying to track down this mysterious texter and focus instead on what the former employees of the centre had to say about its operations. In this regard, Thóra strongly suspected that those who no longer worked for the Regional Office would speak more openly. On the other hand, she had no idea how she would track down these particular employees, most of whom had rather ordinary names, because she didn’t have any other information about them except for what was stated on Glódís’s list. She couldn’t think of anything else but to turn to the Internet telephone directory. She was able to rule out a high proportion of the names from their job titles, which were listed in the directory.

BOOK: Someone to Watch Over Me
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