My Soul to Take: A Novel of Iceland by Yrsa Sigurðardóttir Read Free Book Online Page A

farthest point west is on the other side of that hill, and we can't see it from here. That part can be reached by road from elsewhere."
    Thora and Kata stared at the hill as if hoping to see through it. Then Thora nodded slowly. "Weren't there originally two farms here, on two separate plots of land?" Vigdis shrugged. Thora continued, "As far as I recall, there were two plots of farmland owned by two brothers, but one of them died childless so the other one inherited it. Then he merged them into one. That would explain the question of access. Generally there's only one driveway up to each farm, not two. Do you suppose the boundary lay across that hill?" Looking back, she saw that neither woman was remotely interested.
    "Sure," Kata said, turning back to her friend. "But who is the dead woman? Did they say anything about that?"
    "I don't think they have the faintest idea. When they came, they asked me how many guests were registered at the hotel and if any were missing." She grinned conspiratorially at her audience. "I just told them the truth—that I had no idea. This is a hotel, not a prison." Then addressing Thora, she added, "The guests have keys that they can take out with them. They don't drop off the keys with me, so it's pure chance whether I notice their movements. They seldom talk to me, unless they're going for a hike and want guidance about routes."
    "It has to be that drunk couple in number eighteen, either him or the wife. I've not seen either of them for two days," Kata said disapprovingly.
    Vigdis shook her head. "No, the kitchen sent food up to their room just a while back. And drinks." She emphasized the latter firmly. "The woman just phoned down to ask for room service. She said they'd been indisposed and had slept the whole day."
    Kata snorted. "Indisposed, my arse. They were either hungover or pissed."
    Thora could tell that there was little more of any use to be gained from the two women. She was generally not interested in gossip, especially about people she didn't know from Adam, so she decided to take her leave and put her hand in her pocket for the key chain. "I have some keys here that my masseuse left behind." Thora handed over the bunch of keys, which were on a key ring with a small enameled Icelandic flag.
    "Sibba, you mean," Vigdis said, stretching for the keys across the counter. "She can be incredibly absentminded." She noticed a large plastic card dangling from the patriotic ring. "Oh, my God, she's even got the master here. She's a real—" Exactly what she was was to remain a mystery, because the telephone rang. Vigdis turned to answer it.
    Glancing at Kata, Thora took the keys back. "I'll just return them to her myself. I forgot to book another session, so I have to talk to her anyway." She smiled innocently at the young woman. "Do you know where she might be?"
    The beautician shrugged. "Maybe in the cafeteria." She pointed at a corridor to the right. "It's next to the kitchen."
    Thora thanked her, then added, "Do you know what room Birna's in? The architect? I wanted to say hello to her."
    Kata shook her head, but reached over for a book behind the reception desk. Vigdis was still busy on the telephone and paid no attention to them. "Birna, Birna..." Delicate fingers with long French-manicured nails ran down the page. "Aha. Here it is." She slammed the book shut. "She's in room five. It's on the way. She's definitely here because her car's parked outside. It's really flash."
    "That's nice," said Thora, who was not particularly interested in cars. "Thanks very much. I might drop in to your salon tomorrow. I could do with a bit of plucking." The young woman nodded, rather too vehemently in Thora's opinion.
    On her way down the corridor, various thoughts ran through Thora's mind. What the hell was she thinking? She couldn't assume the dead woman was Jonas's missing architect. In all probability it was a completely different woman. And who was this Birna anyway? There was no excuse for going