"SEASON OF THE WITCH" "So, what's your favorite place to party, Sólrún?" "Kjartan Arnarson's cock." "There's been an accident on an adventure safari." "Who killed her?" "That devil Geiri, of course." "Who else?" "Who do you think you are?" "A jou...jou... journalist." "I know what you are." "You are a scandal- monger from the city with a big attitude." "Here, at the Eyjafjörður metal dumpsite, a body was discovered early this morning." "According to Evening Press sources, preliminary research has concluded that Skarphéðinn was murdered, but not on the spot where his body was found." "It seems that he died of head trauma as a result of falling." "He wasn't hit on the head?" "Have you ever heard of someone who falls to death, who stands up again, moves his body to a different location and then attempts to set it on fire?" "He was wearing a black gown." "Like a monk?" "No... like a witch." "Cocks all over the place, huh?" "He committed his first murder at the age of fourteen." "Sólrún!" "Oh my God, what's...?" "EPISODE THREE" "That poor girl was determined to commit suicide." "She was whacked out of her mind on drugs." "If only I hadn't asked that stupid "Question Of the Day"..." "If only Trausti hadn't printed her answer..." "If only I had been quicker to react..." "If, if, if..." "Don't do this to yourself." "Maybe you should go see a counselor... the college kids have been receiving." "Has it been determined whether Skarphéðinn was under the influence when he died, drunk or high, or whatever?" "He seems to have been as clean as a baby's newly wiped ass." "Is it possible to tell whether he had sex shortly before died?" "Yes, technically it is." "However, the body is badly burnt." "Who was Skarphéðinn Valgardsson really?" "The more I know about him... the less I know him." "That makes the two of us." "Jóna Rúnarsdóttir is here to see you." "Just a moment." "We're finishing a statement." "Jóna." "Skarphéðinn and Rúnar's, mother." "We need to review the state of the investigation together." "I have no idea what to say to them." "Come over here." "I have something to show you." "What is it?" "Are those runes?" "Yes." "An expert told us..." "Is that from Skarphéðinn's gown?" "Yes, it's an ancient Icelandic magic rune, called the "Helm of Awe."" "The Helm of Awe." "Ólafur Einarsson told me that" "Skarphéðinn had jumped on a table at the party and yelled: "I bear the Helm of Awe over all of you!"" "Really?" "Looks like he forgot to mention that to us." "But it doesn't seem to matter, anyway." "Ólafur isn't the most reliable witness in the world." "He's more or less high all the time." "I don't think he's imaginative enough to lie about this." "And not about Aggi and his crew coming to the party and being thrown out by Skarphéðinn either." "Yes, we'll bring him and his good- for-nothing friends in shortly." "Are you anticipating an arrest?" "No, we'll take their statements first." "You'll not print a word about this." "You should rather go and talk to the old professor," "Ingimundur Kjaran." "He lives here in Akureyri." "Then he jumped on a table at the party and yelled out to everybody:" ""I bear the Helm of Awe over you all!"" "Helm of Awe, yes." "It's widely mentioned in sources from the 16th century, the age of sorcery," "and it has survived in the term" ""to bear the Helm of Awe over others."" "It simply means that you believe you are better than others." "He went inside his gown and pulled off a pubic hair." "Then he pulled an eyelash out, set them both on fire, and put the ashes in a girl's drink at the party." "That's even more interesting!" "It's more than likely that the boy was merely taking advantage of his super- ficial knowledge of witchcraft to amuse himself." "To the best of my knowledge, the ritual that you described is intended as a sort of sexual spell, one that is used to seduce a woman or a girl to have sex." "Similar what rapists do these days in clubs, putting drugs in womens' drinks?" "That's outside my field of expertise." "The Helm of Awe... wasn't solely used" "in sexual spells;" "it wasn't used to turn women into nymphomaniacs." "It was also used for healing." "I recall an example from the 16th century about a man who used the Helm of Awe to heal his livestock." "He was burnt, naturally." "Burnt at the stake?" "Yes, burnt at the stake, as was usual at the time." "That's how they used to send witches and sorcerers into eternity." "Einar." "Karó can't take this much longer." "For God's sake!" "She can't open closets, or even go to bed, without feeling the stink of your cigarettes blowing in her face." "She sees the smoke come through the floorboards." "My apologies." "Have you seen that smoke?" "She's very upset, Einar." "Karó's very sensitive at the moment." "Are you taking the last pleasure in my life away?" "How about I commit suicide and be done with it?" "Well, I'm sorry Einar, but you're not alone in this world." "Are you sure?" "She's been coming over a lot lately." "Ásbjörg, the girl who found Snúlli." "Just to say hello to the poor thing." "But Karó can't stand it." "Each time she leaves she goes bonkers." "Who understands women, eh?" "Ásbjörn." "In case you haven't noticed," "I'm trying to get some work done." "Einar." "Agnar Hansen has been brought to the station, but don't print anything until it's been declared he's in custody." "It could happen tonight." "Yes, of course he's denying everything." "But not having been in Akureyri or at the party?" "No, that's something he can't readily deny." "But he denies having had anything to do with" "Skarphéðinn's disappearance and death." "You spoke to Skarphéðinn's mother." "How are his parents taking it?" "They're still bereaved." "They haven't been able to give him a proper burial." "They weren't on speaking terms towards the end but still, it was a tremendous blow." "What do they do for a living?" "His father has a disability." "They were having some financial problems ten or fifteen years ago." "Lost everything." "Jóna is a nurse." "She's the home's only breadwinner, but she's apparently... a hard working woman." "You haven't given Örvar Páll any consideration?" "The director?" "Yes, he and Skarphéðinn had an argument at the party." "Yes..." "He didn't want the actors being hung over at the premiere." "Understandably." "I thought that maybe the director had developed an attraction towards his leading actor." "Nothing seems to indicate such a development." "Are there any witnesses that confirm that he left the party at 10 o'clock, like he says?" "Those witnesses are very unreliable." "Nobody at the KEA lobby remembers him." "What are you thinking?" "I'm just grasping at straws." "I learned that Skarphéðinn and Örvar Páll had met before, a few years ago." "Skarphéðinn was playing the lead in a teen movie called "The Knight of the Streets."" "Örvar Páll had a minor role." "Played a policeman, actually." ""The Knight of the Streets?"" "Exactly." "He also told me that the lead actress, a young girl," "Inga Ló­na something, died two or three years ago." "How?" "Suicide." "Drugs." "Depression." "A bit strange." "The two young leads of the movie are both dead, and the only person we know that has met the both of them is Örvar Páll." "MURDER INVESTIGATION IN AKUREYRI" "A man, aged twenty, has been taken into custody for five days" "pending the investigation into the murder of Skarphéðinn Valgarðsson" "Guðmundur." "Good evening." "My name is Einar, a journalist with the Evening Press in Akureyri." "Oh?" "Yes, sorry for disturbing you, and... my deepest sympathies for your mother." "Thank you." "The thing is, I got a phone call from your grandmother." "Gunnhildur." "And I visited her at the nursing home where she's staying." "Oh?" "Yes, I'm not sure how to put this, but..." "She claimed that her daughter's death, your mother's, had not been an accident, but a homicide." "Are you interviewing me?" "Are you going to print what I say?" "No." "I'm just... trying to understand" "what's going on." "That is, if anything at all is going on." "Look, what's going on is that my grandmother is... demented." "She can't face reality." "Oh?" "Which reality is that?" "The reality that my mother was suffering from a disease called Hypochondria." "Hypochondria?" "Sounds familiar." "Perhaps the simplest description would be a disease of the imagination." "My grandmother suffers from the same disease." "Are you saying that... your grandmother also suffered from Hypochondria?" "Not in the same sense." "Did gran tell you that my dad killed my mom?" "Yes, something to that effect." "For God's sake, don't pay her any heed." "My grandmother is a tired, sad old woman." "Good day." "Hypocondria..." "Two men have been taken into custody for three days in addition to the man who was put into custody for five days pending the investigation of the Akureyri police into the death of Skarphéðinn Valgarðsson during Easter." "The police has been reluctant to give any statements..." "Good day!" "My name is Ásgeir Eyvindarson." "Good morning." "I'm Einar." "My son, Guðmundur, tells me you called him yesterday with absurd innuendos and accusations towards me." "No, there must be some misunderstanding." "Soaking up some damned bullshit and nonsense from a demented old hag." "How dare you treat a family in mourning like this?" "I simply told your son what your mother-in-law told me." "She's in mourning too, you know." "You must realize how serious these accusations are?" "I could sue you for slander!" "Oh?" "But weren't you saying that" "Gunnhildur is senile and not to be taken at her word?" "Of course she is!" "That mean old bag has always, ever since I married her daughter, hated my guts." "Oh?" "So it's not a new sentiment that's caused by her... what did you call it?" "Demented or senile." "What did you say it was, again?" "Well, I never!" "You're adding insult to injury and being rude, too?" "!" "No, I'm just of the opinion that" "Gunnhildur is entitled to her views, however old she may be." "I was just checking into things, and that's the extent of my crime." "I'm warning you..." "What are you warning me about?" "I'm warning you not to snoop into the affairs of a family who has done nothing wrong." "I'm warning you not to spout any sensational news of issues that are nobody's concern, just so you can sell your sorry excuse of a pamphlet that you call a newspaper!" "I don't like being threatened." "Don't think I'm a man without influence in this town." "Don't think you can treat me like a common loser of the sort that you regularly drag through the mud." "This is persecution!" "Persecutions are usually just an indication of paranoia." "This is typical of Geiri." "He's full of..." "Evil, malice and brutality?" "Yes, exactly." "How did you know that?" "I may have heard it somewhere." "Then I actually heard from him earlier today." "Evil." "Malice." "Those are his true colors." "You are not so stupid after all, boy." "Why, thank you." "There's plenty of idiots out there." "I'm still no closer to the truth about your daughter's death... and whether or not it was a homicide." "How on earth did you expect to find the truth by asking Geiri?" "Did you think Geiri would just confess and turn himself in?" "Have you even watched Morse and Taggart?" "I have." "Sometimes it takes up to an episode, sometimes even more, to break the damn murderers, and get them to confess." "I know that an hour on TV is compressed." "I'm well aware of that." "They take many days' worth of work and edit it to fit an hour." "Of course these gentlemen have to... sleep and eat, and go to the bathroom, as we all have to." "But we don't have to see all that." "You know this, don't you boy?" "Yes, off course." "Gummi is not a bad boy." "But greed runs in his blood." "Don't they say nowadays that everything is in the cells?" ""Genes."" "He didn't inherit the greed from Dó­sa Björk." "The greed comes from the coldest blood as can run through human veins." "Exactly." "Do you have a "gene"?" "A gene?" "Yes, a gene." "I sure hope so." "Hand it over." "What!" "?" "You want me to lend you a gene?" "Yes." "I'm going to call someone who can answer all of your questions." "It's no use asking a murderer whether he's guilty or not." "It's an exercise in futility!" "I assume that you're asking for a cell phone." "Here you go." "That's what I said!" "You're turning it the wrong..." "You do it." "What number should I dial?" "Ásgeir never talked about their personal life." "But I understood from Dó­sa Björk, even though we didn't speak much, that she was ill." "Do you know what was wrong with her?" "All sorts of things." "This and that." "She used to be a beautiful woman, but she's gained a lot of weight recently." "Perhaps her illness had something to do with that." "Did she join you in the... rock climbing..." "No, but she watched us from the car." "I noticed that she walked very slowly when she came out." "Then she joined us in the river rafting." "It was such a delightful surprise that we gave her a round of applause." "And Geiri kissed her and..." "Did you see when she fell into the river?" "No." "I was in the first boat." "I don't think anyone saw her falling overboard." "Geiri jumped in right after her." "He was very heroic!" "I understand that Ásdó­s Björk was addicted to pills?" "I never heard that." "Listen..." "There are some people here, more than two, and more than three, who see this case purely as a political one." "Do you mean to tell me that" "Agnar Hansen and his crew are under scrutiny by the police for political reasons?" "No." "I've heard people say that they think that the political opponents of the authorities here in Húsavík saw an opportunity to cast suspicion on these young men." "But why on earth do that?" "To create more unrest, and to suggest that the increased criminal activity is the direct result of the economic boom." "Kind of far-fetched, I think." "But why are these boys being singled out while all the other party guests seem to be off the hook and pretend not to remember a thing?" "Because they stick out like sore thumbs and were behaving like dicks?" "Or is it because one of them is the son of the chairman of the town council and another a foreigner to boot?" "Could that be the reason?" "!" "Bullshit." "Come on... that cop is the town mogul's brother." "This is a desperate attempt to confuse people and the media." "Political harassment, my ass!" "Do you understand now how important it was to cover the course of events in Húsavó­k?" "It may well be that you were right about that." "May well be?" "You should be man enough to admit that I was right, buddy." "I was big enough a man to admit my error with the cock story." "You were forced to, Trausti." "You should be man enough to do the same with the Húsavó­k story." "OK, OK, you were right." "But I warn you against suggesting in the Evening Press that Agnar Hansen and his crew are the guilty parties." "We can't judge them beforehand." "The only thing we know is that they were there, like so many others." "It's our duty to print what happens." "The truth." "These guys are in custody, not some other guys." "We'll print their names and pictures in tomorrow's edition." "If we do that, Trausti, we will just support and in fact confirm the argument that this is a political attempt to confuse a completely unrelated case." "Which happens to be a murder investigation." "Are you going insane, man?" "Not another word." "And fuck you!" "Einar, you have to see this in a larger context." "These guys are in custody because they're suspected to be involved with the case." "Shouldn't we focus on the facts of the investigation rather than run after the conspiracy theories of nameless sources?" "Conspiracy theories can also be news, my dear sir." "Hannes, if you had a son..." "No, if Trausti Löve had a son, God forbid, and he would be put in custody pending the investigation of a criminal case, would it feel right to you that the Evening Press, and other media," "would blithely print his name and picture, and let it be known that he was the editor's son?" "Do you find the idea to be appealing?" "Facts are just facts, whether we like them or not." "Hannes, I have growing doubts whether I belong at this newspaper at all." "Perhaps these doubts of yours are, when it comes down to it, about whether we belong in this society or not." "Skarphéðinn Valgarðsson was a true role model for all young people in this country, and no less for those of us who are older." "Unfortunately, he was with us for far too short a time, but that way he will be remembered." "His unexpected and tragic death is a great loss for our small community." "He will be sorely missed." "Hi." "Einar, journalist for the Evening Press." "Right, I remember you from the rehearsal at Hólar." "My sympathies for your brother." "I didn't know your brother very well." "I only met him that one time, but he made quite an impression." "I'm sorry, but..." "I got the assignment to write an article about Skarphéðinn, about him and his life." "I need some information from a trusthworthy source." "I won't quote you if you don't want me to." "Like I said," "I need information that I can trust." "Alright." "But don't call me at home Call my mobile." "THREE YOUNG MEN IN CUSTODY" "You don't look too good, Ásbjörn." "You remind me of someone." "Yeah!" "Myself." "In the mirror." "On a Monday morning." "Could be." "Maybe I should start drinking like you did." "Maybe it would make things easier." "What's up?" "I think Karó is losing it." "She can't sleep and stays up all night crying." "Snúlli is a nervous wreck." "And I can hardly work anymore." "Do you think it's connected to these mysterious phone calls?" "How so?" "I don't know." "But they have stopped." "You said you made some arrangements." "Yessss..." "I see." "Just another one of your sarcastic jokes." "Errr, yes." "So you don't know anything?" "Nope." "Not a thing." "Have you been cheating on Karó?" "How can you even suggest such nonsense?" "!" "What about her?" "I can't imagine her doing that." "We aren't like that." "That's what most people think without knowing it." "Karó... has more interest in Snúlli" "than men." "Oh-kay..." "I'll try making some real arrangements this time." "You will?" "But don't blame me if you don't like the results." "I won't." "Thank you." "Have they been released?" "I don't know." "Here they come." "Hi, Agnar." "Well, well." "The world press is here already?" "Can we snap a picture of you guys, and maybe get an interview on how the custody was?" "What's it gonna be, guys?" "Beat them up, or have a little chat?" "Kill them." "Wouldn't that be rather unwise?" "You'd have to walk all the way back inside!" "You can quote me... that the Akureyri police is just a bunch of stupid morons." "Isn't that saying the same thing twice?" "Twice?" "What's it to you, tranny?" "Or are you just an impotent lesbian cunt?" "Your bad breath is enough to make anyone impotent." "There now, Jóa." "The boys have been in isolation." "Would you like to say a few words about the arrest and your release?" "Take our picture, then." "You lesbian cunt." "And you, motherfucker." "Make the caption read that the Akureyri police is guilty of harassing innocent tourists who came here to have some fun." "We have done nothing wrong." "Well, guys, let's celebrate." "Let's get hammered and laid." "Actually, I've always wanted to rape a fucking lesbian cunt!" "See you later." "These bloody idiots were clever enough to deny, deny, deny." "They say they were thrown out of the party and went drinking somewhere else, claiming they can't remember where, exactly." "But why didn't you keep them for the duration of the custody?" "The main reason is that... last night a witness came forward who says that he was with them from 3 o'clock that night until 8 o'clock in the morning." "Which witness was that?" "Our dear friend, Ólafur Einarsson." "Really?" "He must have tried hard to recall what he didn't remember." "Says he met those morons somewhere down town after he left the party." "They picked him up in their car, and he then invited them to his place." "And you believe him?" "He lives in his parents' basement." "His mother is always glued to the kitchen window worried sick and waiting for him." "It was the parents who lead us to Ólafur." "Responsible lot, aren't they?" "Certainly." "Hello?" "Yes, hello." "My name is Einar." "Is your mother home?" "Nope." "Your dad?" "Nope." "What's your name?" "Ösp!" "That's a pretty name." "No, it sucks." "Alrighty then." "I knew Skarphéðinn, the guy who lived on floor above you." "He's dead." "I know." "Did you know him?" "He gave me candy sometimes." "So, he was nice to you?" "He's OK." "Rúnar is much cooler." "So, you know him?" "He's moving in instead of Skarphéðinn." "Did your parents know him well?" "Dad hated him." "Why?" "Because my mom thought he was cute." "I see." "Yep." "But I don't feel like talking to you anymore." "No?" "Thanks anyway." "Good morning." "My name is Einar, journalist for the Evening Press." "I'm looking for information about Skarphéðinn Valgarðsson." "Yes." "He was an opportunist without a conscience and a womanizer." "Good riddance." "Oh." "That's that, then." "Listen to this." "Those who suffer from Hypochondria are obsessed about the state of their own health." "It's usually a sign of deep distress... a call for help." "A call for attention." "Here are the photos you asked me to enlarge." "Thanks." "What are you doing?" "What photos are these?" "Is that Snúlli?" "What is she doing with Snúlli?" "Wait, this woman..." "It's the woman, Ásbjörn." "It's her, it's the woman!" "This is the woman I met when Snúlli went missing." "This is her." "I may have been... a bit too harsh the other day." "I apologize." "Not to worry." "You have to understand that... people who are grieving, like our family is doing, must be sensitive to any harassment, especially from the media." "I just got this phone call from Gunnhildur..." "I won't hear any more of that nonsense." "Thanks." "My son, Guðmundur, told me that, despite everything, something's positive has come out of this, and that you're interested in covering Hypochondria?" "Yes, I'd like to write a piece that might increase people's awareness of the disease." "That's why I agreed to see you." "People can't imagine how difficult it is for the family to see a loved one suffer from this strange disease." "What about medication?" "I read somewhere that anti-depressants have been successful in treating Hypochondria." "She tried a lot of medication." "Some seemed to work for a while, but only for a few months." "Did she abuse the medicine?" "Yes, I think it's safe to say so." "She had a tendency to increase the recommended dose." "It's almost like she thought she'd feel better if she took more medication." "What was she on when she died?" "Why do you ask?" "Aren't you writing about Hypochondria, and not this accident in particular?" "Can't we assume that the accident is a consequence of Hypochondria?" "Yes, I see." "Of course." "I don't know about all the stuff Dó­sa Björk was taking." "She was taking sedatives." "Valium or something." "But for this last year the GP had her only on Prozak." "Only Prozak?" "Yes." "Are you sponsoring Loftur the Sorcerer?" "Yes, but the premiere had to be postponed because the leading actor passed away." "Einar." "Now I have a question for you, for a change." "How nice!" "Shoot." "You met Skarphéðinn at a rehearsal... and interviewed him." "Did you notice if he had a mobile phone?" "Yes, I did." "His phone rang just when we were finishing our conversation." "It was in a leather holster with a pattern, which we now know as the magical rune of The Helm of Awe." "Jóa even got a picture of it." "I see." "It would be great to have that picture." "Sure, no problem." "What's going on?" "We've been searching all over the place... but no trace of a cell phone." "There doesn't seem to be any cell phone that's registered to his name." "Do you have his mobile number?" "No, he never gave it to me." "What about his friends and family?" "Haven't they got his number?" "Well, the strange thing is... you're the only person who claims he had a cell phone." "Everyone else says he was so old-fashioned that he didn't want to have one." "Hello." "Hello." "I heard you guys have set a new date for the premiere." "Yes." "It didn't make sense to give up on all that hard work." "How goes the search for a new Loftur the Sorcerer?" "We may have found a likely candidate..." "Who do you have in mind?" "I'd rather not talk about it at the moment." "Won't it be difficult without Skarphéðinn?" "Yes, of course." "It was his baby, first and foremost." "He said that it was the correct play for us and he wouldn't want us to give up on it." "So, the investigation doesn't seem to be getting anywhere?" "And they just let the Húsavó­k gang go free?" "Is that any of my concern?" "Were you and Skarphéðinn together that night at the party?" "What?" "Were you together?" "Who says we were?" "It's the word on the street." "Is Aggi spreading this around?" "Are they trying involve me in this?" "So you know them?" "No, I just know who they are." "Skarphéðinn threw them out before things got out of hand." "They have no idea who was with whom." "Sorry." "Do you have Skarphéðinn's mobile number?" "You have it?" "His mobile number?" "Yes." "The man is dead and you want his mobile number?" "Yes, I interviewed him, as you may remember." "I saw him with a mobile." "But the police claims he didn't have a mobile number." "That's right." "He didn't have a mobile." "He didn't own a mobile?" "No." "Why not?" "Perhaps he just didn't want one?" "Perhaps he had one borrowed?" "There's a lot of good-looking women here in Akureyri." "Yeah, no doubt." "Cute!" "That one's cuter." "Yeah, she's got a great ass!" "Maybe a bit too young for me?" "No, maybe you should think about it." "Rúnar!" "How are you?" "I was just about to call you." "OK." "Do you have time to talk?" "No, unfortunately." "When can we meet?" "I don't know." "What about Sunday?" "No school." "OK." "Call me on Sunday." "I was wondering... who was Skarphéðinn's best friend?" "That would be Gunnar." "Gunnar Njálsson." "Gunnar Njálsson?" "Where does he live?" "In Húsavó­k." "He moved there one year ago." "Looking sharp." "Are you going to a party?" "No, I'm going to a funeral." "Knowledge and innocence cannot go together, a wise man said once." "I know, dear Sólrún, that you found it, like many others, increasingly difficult to deal with the hardships of life." "It was incompatible with your natural innocence, your faith in the good of mankind." "And then the day arrived when you felt like you couldn't give any more." "Not because you hadn't any more to give, but because your gifts were misunderstood and abused." "Rúnar." "Let us recite the prayer that Jesus taught us." "Let us pray together:" "Our Father in heaven, hallowed by your name." "Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven." "Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors." "And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." "For yours is the kingdom the power, and the glory, for ever and ever." "Amen." "This is Gunnar Njálsson." "Leave a message." "Damnit." "Hi, this is from me to you." "I'll call later." "Promise." "Bye!" "Jóa!" "I suddenly find myself in a good mood." "I was wondering if you and Heiða would like to have dinner with me?" "Ooh!" "How does that sound?" "Great." "I'm game." "I would like to try snowboarding." "Yes." "I think that's kind of cool." "Yeah, you're just the type for that." "Yeah." "You would look good snowboarding." "Yeah." "I think it's kind of cool." "You want me to teach you?" "You know how to snowboard, too?" "For real?" "Yep." "Great!" "This is Gunnar Njálsson." "Leave a message." "I think I could become pretty good at it." "Snowboarding?" "Yes." " I can imagine." "Can't you?" "It's kind of cool." "The both of you, actually." "Right!" "Two on one board." "Hello?" "Are you the one they call what women don't want to be?" "What?" "I'm who?" "Einar (alone)." "Yes, who is this?" "This is Ólafur Gó­sli Kristjánsson, chief of police, speaking." "I think you should leave your current scene and come over to a different one." "Scene?" "What scene?" "I can't talk about it openly on a cell phone." "Are you talking about a scene of a crime?" "A scene of a crime, yes." "At the offices of the Evening Press." "We have to go." "This is incredible." "You doesn't realize things until you see the bigger picture..." "What the hell is going on here?" "Welcome to the scene of the crime." "Mr. Investigative Journalist." "I would very much like to offer you a drink..." "No thanks." "It would be inappropriate while you're doing so well being sober." "I'm just... going to give a little speech." "Would you raise your glasses in a toast with me... because I'm at a turning point in my life." "I'm having a drink with my best friend, Óli Gó­sli, because I'm at at this watershed." "I'm at a crossroads." "I... have a daughter." "Ásbjörg Sigrúnar- and Ásbjarnardóttir." "Isn't it great?" "Isn't it great?" "And Karó, my dear Karó..." "How is Karó taking the news?" "I'll tell you how she's taking the news." "She's going to love Ásbjörg, just like the daughter we never had the chance to have." "Isn't it great?" "The girl had been nagging her mother to be told who her father was." "Yes, understandably." "And when the Akureyri branch opened, a photo of the two of you appeared in the paper." "And Sigrún told her daughter that this was her father." "The father." "This guy here." "And then you began having those mysterious phone calls?" "Little Ásbjörg..." "She was too afraid to say anything." "Then she had the brilliant idea to get closer to him by pretending to have found, or rescued, Snúlli." "So we are at a scene of a crime after all." "It was kidnapping, and not a rescue?" "Of course it was a rescue!" "Of course I'd like a drink, but after seeing Ásbjörn being drunk the desire has vanished completely." "I feel pretty good here... even though I haven't gotten laid, yet." "No women at all?" "Fewer than the fingers of a man with no hands." "What the hell?" "!" "Good night."