‘When did you last speak to her?’

‘Only a few days ago. When she lent me the cottage.’

‘Did she say that she intended to be here herself?’

‘No. She didn’t mention it. She said of course she’d lend me the place for a few days. No problem.’

‘And was she… on good form?’

‘Yes, I thought so. She seemed her usual self when I went round to pick up the key.’

‘She’d have known you were coming here?’

‘Yes. What do you mean?’

‘She knew that you’d find her,’ the detective said.

He had pulled up a stool when he’d started talking to Karen. She grabbed his arm, staring at him.

‘Do you mean…?’

‘Maybe you were meant to find her,’ the detective said. ‘Not that I know anything about it.’

‘Why would she have wanted that?’

‘It’s only a guess.’

‘But it’s true; she knew I’d be here over the weekend. She knew I was coming here. When… when did she do it?’

‘We haven’t been given an exact time of death yet but the doctor thinks it can’t have been much later than yesterday evening. So probably about twenty-four hours ago.’

Karen hid her face in her hands.

‘God, it’s so… it’s so unreal. I should never have asked to borrow the cottage. Have you spoken to her husband?’

‘The police are on their way to see him now. They live in Grafarvogur, don’t they?’

‘Yes. How could she do this? How could anyone do a thing like this?’

‘From sheer despair,’ the detective said, beckoning the doctor over. ‘Mental torment. You weren’t aware of anything like that in her case?’

‘Maria lost her mother two years ago – to cancer,’ Karen said. ‘It was a terrible blow to her.’

‘I see,’ the detective said.

Karen’s lips trembled. The detective asked if the doctor could do anything to help her. She shook her head, saying she was all right but would like to go home if that was allowed. It was not a problem. They would talk to her later if necessary.