The Flatey Enigma Read Online Free PDF Page A

distance, as well as the Svefneyjar islands behind them and Mount Klofningur on the mainland ahead.
    As they approached Ketilsey, a great black-backed gull flew up and squawked. The sea splashed against the rocks as seals plunged into the ocean.
    “They have this agreement between them,” said Grímur. “The black-backed gull wakes up the seals when they’re sleeping on the reefs. In return he’ll get a good piece of the catch when the seal is fishing. His favorite part is the liver.”
     
     
    “…When ancient tales were written down on sheets of vellum, they were just one of many versions. Prior to that they had been passed down orally or written into older manuscripts. Each generation told the tales in their own way. My father told me stories from this book like fairy tales when I was a child. Since then I’ve trained myself to recount my favorite stories in my own way…”

CHAPTER 5
     
    K etilsey wasn’t a big island, but finding the body wasn’t easy. They had walked the full perimeter of its shore and then moved slightly higher. The district officer and the teacher were tired of searching.
    “We should have taken Valdi with us and let him show us the spot,” said Högni.
    Grímur had his doubts. “Then the old man would’ve had to come along and probably the boy, too. They’re practically inseparable.”
    He took off his cap and wiped the sweat from his brow with a red snuff handkerchief.
    “Didn’t the man say anything about where we should look?” Kjartan asked.
    “No, damn it. I thought the corpse would just be lying there on the shore by the slip and that we would have been able to just follow the smell,” Grímur answered.
    “Could he have floated back into the sea?” Kjartan asked.
    Grímur shook his head. “No, the tide is neap and the waves have barely moved since those men were here.”
    Högni glared at some of the black-backed gulls spiraling above them. “Do you think those bloody seagulls finished him off?” he asked.
    Kjartan had almost given up on finding the body when he walked between some rocks. The green of the parka blended with the color of the patches of grass, and its hood was drawn over the skull so that only a portion of some bare facial bones were visible. Pants and shoes concealed the lower part of the body. A rotting stench lingered in the air, and a cluster of flies hovered above.
    “He’s here,” Kjartan called out in a voice that he did not recognize as his own.
    The men swiftly rushed to the scene, the district officer first.
    “Not that I was expecting the smell to be pleasant,” Grímur said, coughing.
    “So this is where he was all along,” Högni said in surprise, once he had examined the scene. “The sea must have been bloody wild this winter if it managed to chuck him all the way up here.”
    “No way,” said Grímur. “There’s no wreckage up here. The nearest pieces of driftwood and seaweed are thirty fathoms below.”
    Högni was taken aback. “Could it be that…” His voice trailed off.
    Grímur looked around. “Yeah, he must have had some life left in him when he reached this island.”
    He scrutinized the man’s body for a brief moment and then started to walk and look around.
    “Look,” he called out. Högni and Kjartan looked in the direction he was pointing.
    It was a slanted crag against which several pieces of driftwood had been diagonally arranged. Stones and seaweed had then been piled onto the wood to create a small shelter. One man could have crawled into it and lain there lengthwise and been reasonably shielded.
    “The man must have built this when he landed here. The Ystakot lads would never have done a botched job like this.”
    “Couldn’t he have attracted someone’s attention?” Kjartan asked. It was uncomfortable to think that the man could have been stranded there for some time, maybe in the heart of winter.
    “No,” Grímur answered, “that would have been difficult if he had nothing to make a fire with.