Daníel stood with a cup of coffee in his hand by a window in the Hverfisgata police station’s canteen, gazing out as he waited for the two of them to arrive. He had told Violet that it would be better for them to come to the station; it felt uncomfortable to give them the news at his place – that would give the impression that he was somehow on both sides of the table concerning this case. He had to remind himself to maintain his professionalism, particularly when he thought about the effect that Áróra had on him. Around her he seemed to lose his senses. He was still smarting with shame over his own reaction on Friday evening. He should have smiled and greeted her like a civilised gentleman. But it was too late to worry about that now. He just hoped that Áróra wasn’t annoyed with him. He needed to give her bad news, and that would just add an extra layer of complexity.

‘They’re here,’ his colleague Helena said, and he finished his coffee, took the cup to the sink, rinsed it and placed it in the dishwasher. He and Helena walked side by side along the corridor to the interview room on the fifth floor. Before going in they stopped by the door, each catching the other’s eye, as if giving mutual encouragement. Interviews with a victim’s relatives were always difficult.

Mother and daughter sat together at the table, and now he regretted not having taken them to the canteen instead. It was a warmer place, painted in dark colours, and with a carpet that lapped against the walls. In contrast, the interview room was empty and impersonal, and not the ideal place for breaking bad news.240

‘We are gradually piecing together a timeline of events concerning Ísafold’s disappearance,’ Helena said when greetings had been exchanged and they had taken their seats opposite Violet and Áróra. She had the folder in her hands containing printouts of documents relating to Ísafold. Daníel glanced at it and suddenly regretted how slim it was, how little information they had on this case.

‘It appears,’ he began, and cleared his throat, ‘that Björn has absconded, to Canada.’

Helena opened the folder and continued, reading the information from the first sheet of paper.

‘He caught a flight yesterday afternoon, was registered on arrival in Canada the same evening, and was seen on CCTV leaving the terminal building in Toronto, after which sight of him was lost. He’s not answering his phone and hasn’t made any appearance on social media. He has a return flight booked in two days, but we’re fairly sure he won’t be on it.’