They stood in the cold for some time, waiting for the two women to come back. Eventually, the detectives followed them out of the garden and into the stairwell in the part of the block where the mother lived. Elinborg introduced Erlendur to her as a detective who would be taking part in the investigation into her son’s death.

“Perhaps you’d prefer to talk to us later,” Erlendur said. “But the fact is that the sooner we receive information, the better, and the more time that passes after the deed, the more difficult it might be to find the person who did it.”

Erlendur stopped talking to allow the interpreter to translate what he had said. He was about to continue when the mother looked at him and said something in Thai.

“Who did it?” the interpreter said at once.

“We don’t know,” Erlendur said. “We’ll find out”

The mother turned to the interpreter and spoke again, a look of acute anxiety on her face.

“She has another son and she’s worried about him,” the interpreter said.

“Does she have any idea where he might be?” Erlendur asked.

“No,” the interpreter said. “He should have left school around the same time as his brother.”

“Is he older?”

“Five years older,” the interpreter said.

“So that makes him … ?”

“Fifteen.”

The mother hurried up the stairs in front of them until they reached the fourth floor, the second-highest. Erlendur was surprised that there was no lift in such a tall building.

Sunee unlocked the flat, shouting something before the door was even open. Erlendur thought it was the name of her other son. She ran around the flat but, seeing that no one was home, stood helpless and strangely alone in front of them until the interpreter put an arm around her, led her into the sitting room and sat down on the sofa with her. Erlendur and Elinborg followed, and they were joined by a thin man who had come running up the stairs and introduced himself as the vicar of the local church and an experienced trauma counsellor.