“What sort of a man was Jacob Senior?”
“Jacob Senior was an extremely handsome man. He was polite and considerate, and everybody felt comfortable in his presence. He inspired confidence, if I may put it like that. He had very elevated ideas on many things, and it was interesting to listen to him when he sat at table with important people and bombarded them with his ideas on all kinds of projects.”
“And Elizabeth?”
“She was a good mistress; somewhat dictatorial, it is true, but that was the norm in those times. It was sometimes difficult to please her because, in the beginning, my understanding of English was limited. The mistress never spoke Icelandic, but she understood it well enough. Occasionally Jacob had to interpret when he came home in the evenings, and it irritated her having to involve him in the running of the house. But he didn’t mind.”
“What has the household been like in recent years?”
“Everything changed when Jacob Senior passed away. The mistress stopped holding receptions, and the domestic staff was given notice. I stayed on because I had gained a reasonable understanding of English. Later my duties were reduced as well, as Jacob Junior was studying abroad and Kirsten had gotten married, so I moved into my own apartment and worked only half a day. Naturally the mistress had to reduce her outgoings.”
“What has your job consisted of lately?” Hrefna asked.
“I would usually go there around eleven in the morning and prepare lunch. Jacob Junior used to come home at lunchtime to eat with his mother, and he kept up the habit after she died. When I had cleared up after lunch, I would do the cleaning. The mistress used to give me instructions of what to do, and I have maintained her routine ever since she passed away. I always go over all the main rooms once a week; she was very firm about that. Round six o’clock I would start to prepare supper, which I served at seven o’clock sharp. Jacob and his mother always used the dining room in the evenings, but recently Jacob Junior had taken his meals in the kitchen with me, both at lunchtime and in the evening. When I’d cleared up after supper and prepared breakfast, I would go home.”
“And what is your salary?”
Sveinborg looked away. “It would not be considered generous today,” she demurred. “The house is very expensive to run, and Jacob Junior is not a high earner. But I get my pension and I own my apartment outright.”
“Can you describe your day yesterday in Birkihlíd?” Hrefna asked.
“Yesterday was a Wednesday, when I usually clean the main rooms and wash the floors. They are not used much, but there is always a bit of dust. The stamp collection came back from the exhibition over the weekend, and the frames were very smudgy, so I gave them a good polish. Jacob was going to put them into the safe.”
“There’s a safe in the home?”
“Yes.” Sveinborg thought for a bit, and then whispered, “It’s under the desk in the office.”
“Do you know what is in it?”
“Jacob keeps his stamps in it, and some of the diaries are kept there.”
“What diaries?”
“Jacob Senior’s diaries. He kept a diary throughout his entire adult life.”
“Do you know where the key to this safe is kept?”
“No, I didn’t need to. I would never open the safe.”
Hrefna didn’t doubt her. She dropped the subject of the safe, and asked to hear more about her routine yesterday.
“I always putter about in the kitchen while the afternoon serial is on the radio; they are reading Jón Gerreksson’s biography right now. The serial finishes at three o’clock, and after that I went out shopping, as I usually do on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. I always go to the same neighborhood store; Jacob has an account there that he settles every month. An old friend of mine lives next door to it, and I always visit her; she is now in terribly poor health, so I also do some shopping for her as well.
“When did you get back to Birkihlíd?”
“Before five o’clock.”
“What did you do then?”
“I’d finished in the main rooms, so I stayed in the kitchen. I cleaned the floor and put potatoes on to boil. I was going to cook haddock fillet; it’s usually fish on Wednesdays.”
“When did Jacob get home?”
“It must have been after six. He went straight to his study upstairs. He usually worked there until I told him supper was ready.”
“When did you go home?”
“As soon as I had cleared up after dinner.”
“What time was it then?”
“Sometime after eight, I think. I don’t know the exact time; I don’t wear a watch. I just hear on the radio what time it is,” Sveinborg said apologetically.