The novel Horfðu á mig, translated to English by Philip Roughton.
About Someone to Watch Over Me:
A young man with Down's Syndrome has been convicted of burning down his care home and killing five people, but a fellow inmate at his secure psychiatric unit has hired Thora to prove Jakob is innocent. If he didn't do it, who did? And how is the multiple murder connected to the death of Magga, killed in a hit and run on her way to babysit?
From Someone to Watch Over Me:
Wednesday, 6 January 2010
Her name was Grímheiður Þorbjarnardóttir, and if she had a nickname she chose not to reveal it to Thóra. She seemed ion the defensive, and had firmly declined to take off her slightly tatty coat, sitting there still bundled in it despite the warmth of the office. She had, however, quickly removed her hand-knitted shawl, matching had and lined leather gloves and placed them in her lap. The hat and shawl were a similar colour to the coat, but not close enough to match. Grímheiður had probably not been wearing the coat when she bought the wool, and the result was a little jarring. The woman‘s swollen red fingers fiddled with the shawl‘s fringe as her eyes searched for a place to put it.
„Are you sure you don’t want me to hang up your coat for you?“ Thóra held out her hand hopefully. It was one of those winter days when the cold north wind fights the sun for control and neither appears to be winning. As long as the battle was raging Thóra could not open the windows; the winds were hitting the building square-on, and the slightest chink in its armour would immediately turn her little office into a walk-in fridge. Keeping them closed was only marginally better, because the merciless sun made a furnace of it. Over the years Thóra and Bragi, her business partner, had somehow never got round to buying curtains, which made it nigh-on impossible to be in the office on cold, sunny days like this one.
„No.“ Grímheiður‘s reply was curt, bordering on rude. She appeared to realize this, because her cheeks, already red from the heat, darkened even further. „I mean, no thanks. It‘s okay.“
Thóra nodded, let her outstretched hand drop and decided to get down to business. „As I mentioned on the phone, I‘ve been asked to look into your son‘s case, on the grounds that he‘s been wrongfully imprisoned.“ She paused to allow Grímheiður to respond, but the woman neither spoke nor reacted. „Since you are your son‘s legal guardian, I don‘t which to accept this case without your consent. Of course I could take it on without consulting anyone, but I‘m unwilling to do so without the full cooperation of you and your son. I will also speak to the layer appointed by the Supreme Court as Jakob‘s supervisor; as you know, he is responsible for ensuring that Jakob doesn‘t stay at the institution any longer than necessary. Obviously any move to reopen the case would concern him.“ Grímheiður was staring impassively at the table, and Thóra couldn’t be sure if she was actually paying attention. “Since your son’s development is …” Before the meeting began Thóra had tried to come up with the right terminology to describe Jakob without offending anyone.
(25-6)