The sheltered-housing centre’s lobby was through a yard that opened onto Lindargata and that was clearly used by the elderly residents as a place to enjoy some fresh air. The yellow-painted building provided shelter from three directions, and the yard faced south so the benches and tubs of flowers were bathed in sunshine. Out of the cool breeze, the summer sun was hot on Áróra’s back as she strode towards the door, so she took off her jacket and carried it folded over one arm.

It took a while to find the office responsible for social domestic assistance, which Áróra understood from Ísafold’s neighbour was where she had been working. The manager was a heavily built woman with a flood of grey-shot curls. She stood up and extended a hand when Áróra knocked at her door.

She shook the woman’s hand and introduced herself. ‘My name’s Áróra. I’m looking for information about someone who works here – Ísafold Jónsdóttir.’

The woman looked at her in silence for a moment, and Áróra had the feeling she was being measured up, as if the woman was figuring out whether her question merited a reply. Áróra perched on the edge of the chair facing the woman and wondered why people had such large desks now that computer screens were so slim.

‘Ísafold Jónsdóttir no longer works here,’ the woman said, her lips pursed, as if she meant to lock her mouth shut so as not to let anything slip out unintentionally.

‘Can you tell me where she is?’ Áróra asked, making an effort to sound amiable, not that this made any difference to the woman’s obvious suspicion.

‘Are you a lawyer?’ she asked, squinting at her.

‘No,’ Áróra said hurriedly. ‘I’m her sister. Our mother sent me 95to look for her as we haven’t heard from her for more than two weeks. We don’t live in Iceland.’

The woman’s expression softened and she leaned back in her chair.

‘I see,’ she said. ‘It’s like that is it?’

‘That’s right,’ Áróra said. ‘We’re trying to work out when she was last seen. I’m curious to know if she took a holiday or if she resigned.’

‘Well…’ The woman seemed taken by surprise, and squinted, as if the glasses perched halfway up her nose weren’t powerful enough to be able to make out Áróra properly. ‘Neither,’ she said at last. ‘She was given notice at the beginning of May and left immediately. This was all done legally, with the required written warnings issued first, so you won’t get very far if you’re thinking of getting the union involved.’

Áróra held up her hands and shook her head. ‘No, nothing like that. As I told you, Ísafold seems to have disappeared.’

‘Disappeared?’

‘Yes.’