Audur as some kind of compensation, or something, for the rape. I know it's a clumsy way to put it, but it was as if the girl was some kind of godsend amidst all that misfortune. I can't say what my sister thought, how she felt or what feelings she kept to herself, I only have a limited picture of that and I wouldn't presume to speak for her. But as time went by she came to worship her little girl and never let her out of her sight. Never. Their relationship was strongly coloured by what had happened, but Kolbrún never thought of her in terms of the beast who ruined her life. She only saw the beautiful child that Audur was. My sister was overprotective of her daughter and that went beyond death and the grave, as the epitaph shows. 'Preserve my life from fear of the enemy.'"
"Do you know exactly what your sister meant by those words?"
"It was a plea to God, as you'll see if you read the Psalm. Naturally, the little girl's death had some-thing to do with it. How it happened and how tragic it was. Kolbrún couldn't bear the thought of Audur having an autopsy. She wouldn't think of it."
Erlendur looked awkwardly at the floor but Elín didn't notice.
"You could easily imagine," Elín said, "how those terrible things that Kolbrún went through, the rape and then her daughter's death, had a serious effect on her mental health. She had a nervous breakdown. When they started talking about an autopsy her paranoia built up, and in her need to protect Audur she saw the doctors as enemies. She had her daughter in those terrible circumstances and lost her so soon. She saw that as God's will. My sister wanted her daughter to be left in peace."
Erlendur waited a moment before he made his move.
"I think I'm one of those enemies."
Elín looked at him, not understanding what he meant.
"I think we need to dig up the coffin and do a more precise autopsy, if that's possible."
Erlendur said this as carefully as he could. It took Elín a while to understand his words and put them in context, and when their meaning had sunk in she gave him a blank look.
"What are you saying?"
"We may be able to find an explanation for why she died."
"Explanation? It was a brain tumour!"
"It could be . . ."
"What are you talking about? Dig her up? The child? I don't believe it! I was just telling you . . ."
"We have two reasons."
"Two reasons?"
"For the autopsy," Erlendur said.
Elín had stood up and was pacing the room in a frenzy. Erlendur sat tight and had sunk deeper into the soft armchair.
"I've talked to the doctors at the hospital here in Keflavík. They couldn't find any reports about Audur except a provisional post-mortem by the doctor who performed the autopsy. He's dead now. The year Audur died was his last year as a doctor at the hospital. He mentioned only the brain tumour and ascribed her death to that. I want to know what kind of disease it was that caused her death. I want to know if it could have been a hereditary disease."
"A hereditary disease! I don't know about any hereditary diseases."
"We're also looking for it in Holberg," Erlendur said. "Another reason for an exhumation is to make sure that Audur was Holberg's daughter. They do it with DNA tests."
"Do you doubt that she is?"
"Not necessarily, but it has to be confirmed."
"Why?"
"Holberg denied the child was his. He said he'd had sex with Kolbrún with her consent but denied the paternity. When the case was dropped they didn't see any particular grounds for proving it or otherwise. Your sister never insisted on anything like that. She'd obviously had enough and wanted Holberg out of her life."
"Who else could have been the father?"
"We need confirmation because of Holberg's murder. It might help us find some answers."
"Holberg's murder?"
"Yes."
Elín stood over Erlendur, staring at him.
"Is that monster going to torment us all beyond the grave?"
Erlendur was about to answer, but she went on.
"You still think my sister was lying," Elín said. "You're never going to believe her. You're no better than that idiot Rúnar. Not in the slightest."
She bent over him where he was sitting in the chair.
"Bloody cop!" she hissed. "I should never have let you into my house."
18
Sigurdur Óli saw the car headlights approaching in the rain and knew it was Erlendur. The hydraulic digger rumbled as it took up a