The Silence of the Sea (32 page)

Ægir chose not to mention that the twins had gone below at around the time the body ended up in the sea. If the captain was planning to take action, the last thing he wanted was to cast suspicion on Lára. He knew it was crazy to imagine she could be involved but his gut instinct was unlikely to satisfy Thráinn. ‘Were Halli and Loftur away long enough to have done it?’

‘Well, Loftur wasn’t around to begin with, so he would have had the opportunity then. And Halli went off for a while but I didn’t take any notice because there was no reason to. If you’d told us straight away that you’d come face to face with the dead woman in the sea, I’d have taken a different view of his absence.’

‘I’ve told you already – I thought I was seeing things.’

‘All right, I know I shouldn’t be bawling you out; I’m just tired. So tired I can’t be bothered to be polite.’ He spoke as if manners were usually his strong point. ‘Never mind that. What I’m trying to say is that I know you can’t be involved because you were diving, so you’re the only person apart from myself that I can trust. Since I can’t stay awake for the next forty-eight hours, I wanted to see if I could persuade you to help me get this ship to port. All you’d have to do is stand watch while I bunk down in here – you could give me a nudge if there were any problems.’

‘I see.’ Relieved as he was that the request had not involved tackling the other two men, Ægir was still uneasy. ‘What about Lára and the girls? Where are they supposed to be in the meantime? I’m not prepared to leave them alone while I stand here gawping out of the window.’

‘No. Fair enough.’ The captain scratched his stubble and yawned again without even trying to suppress it. ‘They could stay in here with us. The mattress is in the back room, so I wouldn’t be in your way.’ He gestured to a door behind him. ‘It may be cramped but there’s no need for them to be uncomfortable. We could easily move a small table and chairs in here.’

‘Yes, I suppose so.’ Ægir surveyed the pilot house. ‘Still, I don’t know.’

‘Well, don’t waste too much time thinking about it. I need a rest and if you’re not manning the bridge, whoever disposed of the body is bound to do it. I don’t know about you but I’m not too thrilled with that prospect.’

Ægir lost his temper. ‘And what about you? How can I be sure you’re innocent? You could have done it yourself for all I know – I couldn’t see if you were at the rail while I was underwater. And what then? If I help you, I’d be siding against the others who may well be innocent. I’d rather stay out of this; concentrate on keeping my family safe and leave you lot to sort it out among yourselves.’

‘I’m afraid that’s out of the question. If you barricade yourselves in your cabin, the next time you come out there may be one less person. Then two less. Where will you stand then? And your wife and daughters? I’m not sure you’d enjoy that.’ The captain’s expression, which had hardened at these words, mellowed again and the signs of fatigue returned. ‘As captain I could of course order you to keep watch – I assume you realise that? But I expect I’d be more successful if I managed to convince you without resorting to threats.’ Thráinn smiled faintly. ‘Though don’t think I’ll hesitate to use force if pushed.’

The sailing course hadn’t covered the captain’s remit in any detail, so Ægir had no idea what the consequences of disobeying his orders might be. ‘And if I still won’t obey? Will I be made to walk the plank?’

‘No. Nothing that dramatic. I’ll simply tell Halli and Loftur to lock you up. And I don’t mean in the cabin with your family. Your wife and daughters would be free to come and go. And as you know, the company on board is not exactly desirable. This is no joke, my friend.’

Ægir was afraid to speak for fear he would hurl a storm of abuse at the captain and find himself under lock and key as a result. In other words, the captain was saying, either he helped him or they would separate him from Lára and the girls. If the man didn’t get his own way he was actually prepared to expose them to danger. Ægir’s rage subsided. For Thráinn this was only a means to an important end: to make it home safe and sound. ‘I’ll help.’ He didn’t smile or give any other sign that he approved of the plan. ‘I’d better fetch Lára and the girls. They’re asleep below. You’ll have to stay awake in the meantime.’

‘No problem.’ Thráinn made no more effort than Ægir to restore the fragile rapport that had recently been established between them. ‘I’ve stayed awake longer than this in my time.’

Before Ægir could respond, the door opened and Halli appeared in the gap. Neither Thráinn nor Ægir spoke and at first the young man did not seem to sense that anything was amiss. Then he picked up on the atmosphere and his face reddened, either from embarrassment or anger. ‘What’s going on?’

‘I was asking Ægir to take over for a while. I need some kip and I reckon you do too.’ Thráinn looked straight at Halli and Ægir couldn’t help admiring his seemingly indomitable spirit. He betrayed no sign of awkwardness or nerves when it came to informing one of his subordinates that he was out in the cold.

‘I see.’ Halli’s red face clashed badly with his dyed hair. He jutted his chin. ‘If you think I had anything to do with it you’re mistaken. Badly mistaken.’

‘No one knows anything for sure, so there’s no point discussing it. Everyone will simply have to obey my orders for the next couple of days; that way we’ll make it home safe and sound. I assume we’re all agreed that that’s our goal?’ said Thráinn.

Halli clenched his teeth, his jaws whitening. ‘Of course.’ Then relaxing slightly, he looked puzzled. ‘Where’s Loftur?’

‘Loftur?’ Thráinn repeated wearily. ‘As you can see, he’s not here. Last time I saw him he was going to fire up the hot tub. I expect that’s where he is now.’

‘Oh?’ Halli dithered in the doorway, unsure whether to stay or go. ‘From what I could see the tub still had its cover on. And he’s not below.’

‘Could he be in the saloon?’ Ægir’s words came out in a rush as they tended to in fraught situations. ‘I heard someone there earlier.’

Halli shook his head. ‘That was me. He hasn’t been in. I checked his cabin but he wasn’t there either.’ He licked his lips repeatedly. ‘Perhaps we missed each other. Or he’s out on deck.’

‘What the hell would he be doing out there?’ Thráinn rose from his chair. Going over to the console, he fiddled for a moment with his back to the two men. Careful not to meet Halli’s eye, Ægir feigned interest in the captain’s back. Thráinn turned again, having finished whatever he was doing. ‘We’d better look for him.’ He glanced at each of them in turn. ‘We’ll stick together.’

Neither objected. In silence they followed the captain out of the pilot house, their clumsy movements betraying the lack of trust between the members of their little party. It did nothing to lessen their paranoia when they finally found Loftur: submerged, fully dressed, under the closed lid of the Jacuzzi.

The darkness inside was pierced by a sunbeam. Motes of dust glittered in the ray of light, vanishing where it faded out. As she breathed in the stagnant air, Thóra was struck by how quickly buildings betrayed the signs of being uninhabited. After their three-week holiday last summer her own house had greeted them with cold, dry air and an unfamiliar musty smell; not until they had given it a good airing and then turned up the radiators had it felt like home again. Ægir and Lára’s house had stood empty for the same amount of time, and although this was her first visit she was sure they too would have made a face on entering the hall.

‘Shall I turn the lights on?’ Margeir stood in the doorway, looking bemused, momentarily arrested, like Thóra, by the play of dust in the light. ‘Or should I just open the curtains?’

‘Turn on the lights. It would be better.’ Thóra adjusted a sock that had been half pulled off when she removed her leather boots. ‘We should take the precaution of touching as little as possible, though of course we’ll have to rummage around in drawers and so on. But with any luck we’ll find the bank statements and other stuff straight away, so that won’t be necessary.’

‘They were over the moon when they bought this house.’ The old man groped disconsolately for the light switch. ‘I helped them with the painting before they moved in.’

Thóra was at a loss how to reply. The whole situation was so depressing that words would be inadequate plasters for the man’s wounds. Besides, the decorating job didn’t really deserve any praise. The house boasted a monochrome colour scheme of the type popular among young people. Yet unlike many similar homes now on the market, here the couple had not spent much on the furnishings. Most of the furniture looked like standard Ikea issue, and there were no paintings on the walls, only a few prints, which were probably wedding presents. Thóra was glad at any rate to see no evidence that the couple had been living beyond their means. That made it less likely that they had serious money troubles, unless the interest rate on their mortgage had recently shot up. And if their finances were in order, it would strengthen her case.

They began by sorting the post from the newspapers that lay piled up in the hall but, with the exception of a recent credit card bill, found nothing of interest. The family had gone abroad at the beginning of the month and there was still a week or so to go before the end. No doubt bank statements would pour in then but Thóra would rather not wait for these if she could use older ones to establish their financial situation. Mortgage payments didn’t rise that much from month to month. ‘Do you have any thoughts about how we should do this? Like whether we should start upstairs or downstairs?’ She averted her gaze from a withered pot plant that was crying out for water. There was no point in prolonging its death struggle by a few more days.

‘I’d rather start down here. I’m not sure I can face the bedrooms. I couldn’t cope with seeing the twins’ empty bunks.’ His head drooped. ‘This is all just unbearable.’

‘I know. It’s awful.’ Thóra looked around for a suitable place to begin. ‘Should we start in the kitchen? Perhaps they stuck their credit card statements to the fridge door?’ It was a long shot; she certainly wouldn’t display her own in such a place. She wouldn’t want Sóley, let alone a visitor, to see the sums that went on paying off loans and other expenditure every month. But they might be kept on top of the fridge or somewhere else in the kitchen. Neither she nor Margeir were keen to prolong this visit.

‘If we find the bills, will that give you enough evidence for the court?’ Margeir led the way into the kitchen. She suspected him of talking as a way of distracting himself from the empty husk of the missing family’s life.

‘Yes, as far as that side’s concerned. It’s essential to be able to demonstrate that they weren’t in dire straits financially because this will undermine any attempt by the insurance company to claim they’ve absconded. After all, what would they have to gain if everything was fine at home? Details like this will weigh heavily with the judge, if we have to go down that road. It’s also worth including this information with our request to have their property recognised as their estate.’

‘It’s preposterous that anyone could believe they did this deliberately. Preposterous. If I was in better shape, I’d sue the insurance company for putting such disgusting insinuations on paper.’

‘Unfortunately, the insurance company has probably had direct experience of similar cases where people have done a runner. Ægir and Lára may have been honesty personified but there are others who have no scruples about making fraudulent claims. By raising objections, the company isn’t trying to blacken your son and daughter-in-law’s reputations. But it’s a great deal of money and they can’t pay it out unless they’re entirely satisfied that Ægir and Lára really are dead. If our application to the court is successful, they’ll accept the verdict and release the money. Who knows? They might even pay up straight away.’

Instead of answering, Margeir started opening drawers at random and shutting them again immediately without even examining their contents.

Using a clean knife she found on the kitchen table, Thóra opened the envelope containing the credit card bill. The transactions covered two sides but the total was within normal limits, neither strikingly high nor low. If their debit card and cash transactions showed the same pattern of spending, the couple’s outgoings could be deemed relatively modest. She ran her eyes quickly down the payments, most of which were to supermarkets or petrol stations. There were also several to a company whose name Thóra didn’t recognise, but the amounts were small. A separate summary of overseas transactions was printed at the bottom. Thóra couldn’t identify any of the recipients so she had no idea what the payments entailed but it seemed fair to assume that they all involved food and drink. None of them was particularly high, except the payment that was processed the day they left port, which was almost certainly the hotel bill. ‘I don’t know if you’d like a look but their credit card bill is pretty modest. You’ll need to contact the bank about paying it off, as well as covering the interest on any loans they have. If you like, I can talk to them. I’m sure they’ll be amenable, despite the fact that they refused to release the bank statements. All you need to know is whether there’s enough money in their accounts to cover the payments. I can speak to the resolution committee too and find out if they’ll be paying Ægir’s salary as usual next month.’

‘Thank you, that would be helpful. I don’t really know what to do if there isn’t enough. We haven’t got any savings; they ran out a long time ago.’

‘I doubt it’ll come to that. This is an unusually complicated situation and I’m sure everyone will be willing to take that into account.’ Thóra walked over to a large white fridge covered with a motley assortment of drawings and notes, among which were two bank giros, one for a magazine subscription, the other for the dentist. ‘The girls liked drawing, didn’t they?’ She detached a picture signed by Bylgja and showed it to her grandfather. It was the typical offering of a contented child, depicting the five family members all smiling broadly and holding hands, standing on a line of green grass. ‘Do you think I could borrow this? It’s useful evidence that they were a happy family, though naturally it wouldn’t be sufficient on its own.’