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him.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘All the evidence is that the man died as the result of falling from a great height, as we’ve discussed. From what I can deduce, he landed on a smooth surface, a pavement or tarmac, maybe even a concrete floor.’
    ‘Yes, you’ve already told us that.’
    ‘Well, perhaps I am repeating myself, but there are so many strange aspects to this death. Like, for example, the fact that he landed flat on his face without raising his arms to protect himself. I don’t believe he fell directly into the lagoon from a plane, as you two were suggesting. If that were the case the impact would have mainly come from hitting water. No, the surface he landed on was much harder.’
    ‘In other words he fell from a great height,’ said Marion, yawning. ‘Everything points to that. So there are only three possibilities: accident, suicide or murder. If it was an accident or suicide, it’s very puzzling that anyone would have wanted to hide his body in a mudbath. But if it was murder, it’s much easier to understand why the perpetrator would have wanted to cover his tracks. I believe we can rule out suicide, in any case. Involuntary manslaughter or an accident aren’t inconceivable, but then we have to ask ourselves why it wasn’t reported. Murder is by far the most plausible conclusion.’
    ‘Yes, that’s why I wanted to talk to you straight away,’ said the pathologist. ‘I just didn’t realise it was so late. You see, I found something on the back of the man’s head where it’s relatively undamaged.’
    ‘What was it?’
    ‘An ugly contusion that I missed initially because it’s under his hair. It looks as if he received a heavy blow to the head.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘There’s no doubt.’
    ‘Isn’t that just the result of his fall?’
    ‘No. He landed on his face. This is on the back of his head.’
    ‘Are you positive?’
    ‘I don’t know if I’ll be able to prove it conclusively by further examination,’ said the pathologist, ‘but the odds are that the man was dead before he fell.’

7
    MARION AND ERLENDUR were gazing out over the lagoon, watching the diver lowering himself into the water. It was his second attempt. On his first he had found nothing in the area where the body had been lying, but he had wanted another chance to make a more thorough search. Marion was sceptical, seeing it as nothing more than a ploy to squeeze more money out of the police, but didn’t say so out loud. The police had called on the diver’s services before when they needed to drag harbours or lakes. He was in his forties, a carpenter by trade, a volunteer member of the rescue team and one of the most capable divers in the country. He had a powerful lamp attached to his head which lit up the water as he submerged, and Marion and Erlendur watched it moving slowly to and fro under the milky-blue surface.
    According to the diver, the lagoon bed was covered in a thick layer of sediment which hampered his efforts. Even if there was some clue sunk in the mud, the cloudiness of the water would make it almost impossible to spot. The lagoon had the detectives stumped. They had never encountered conditions quite like this before and were unsure how to proceed. They had discussed emptying it by pumping out the water but this had been dismissed as impractical. Then Erlendur had suggested dragging the bottom and, as no one had come up with a better solution, preparations were under way.
    Combing the shores of the lagoon for clues had as yet produced no results. The snow had obliterated any tracks that might have been left by the person or people responsible for transporting the body there. And the conjecture that the man had been thrown out of a plane had to be taken as seriously as any other, despite indications that he had already been dead before he landed. Reykjavík air traffic control were unaware of any flights over the area in the past week but there were a number of privately owned light aircraft based at the