The Dancer | Óskar Guðmundsson, transl. Quentin Bates

Black Swan meets Psycho in Icelandic author Óskar Guðmundsson’s first book in a brand-new crime series. Characterised by Guðmundsson’s signature originality The Dancer pushes the envelope even further than its predecessor, The Commandments. It’s Nordic Noir at its bloodthirsty best, but what will disturb you the most is the psychological component.

A body believed to be that of a missing American airman is discovered in an abandoned military barracks, and detectives Ylfa and Valdimar* are dispatched to investigate. The two new protagonists are quickly overshadowed by the narrative of a tortured young man. His macabre dance at the beginning of the novel foreshadows what’s to come. Guðmundsson doesn’t lure the reader into a false sense of comfort only to club them over the head later. He delivers the blow within the first few pages.

From early on we know who the killer is, it’s no secret. We can only watch in horror as his sanity deteriorates and the distinction between reality and fantasy becomes increasingly blurry. The reasons behind his violent and vengeful actions become crystal clear. Not all writers can elicit sympathy from the reader when their main character is a psychotic killer with a deviant personality, but what if circumstances and society turned him into a monster?

This isn’t a cosy bedtime read; instead, it’ll certainly leave a lasting imprint on your subconscious. Guðmundsson’s ability to engage the senses further enhances this. There is no doubt that the author’s background as an artist and photographer influenced the author’s writing style and visual elements in particular. Guðmundsson doesn’t shy away from graphic violence and pushing boundaries. That being said, don’t let it deter you from reading this unsettling little stick of dynamite—I’ve read books with far more gratuitous and graphic violence. Here it’s used as part of the narrative, not merely to shock.

At 250 pages it packs a hefty punch and it’s admirable that the author ties up a compelling story in so few pages. His economical word usage keeps the narrative focused without straying into repetitive and drawn-out explanations. If only more crime writers could be persuaded to follow his lead instead of dragging out a story and wringing the life out of it for 400+ pages.

The Dancer does a remarkable job of contrasting beauty and violence while dealing with relevant topics like emotional child abuse and bullying. Despite the fact that it might be labelled as a police procedural, the police play a supporting role and ultimately fail to solve the case. Even though we know the identity of the murderer, we are drawn to his mental state rather than his actions. This is a psychological thriller with a smidge of horror and the faintest hints of wry humour.

* I’d love to see more of Ylfa and Valdimar and I can only hope that they’ll appear in future English translations.

The Dancer was originally published in 2023 as a Storytel Original Series

ISBN: 978-1-7392989-5-1
Price £9.99
eBook pub date: 5^th January 2024
Paperback pub date: 1^st February 2024
Twitter: @CorylusB @oskargudmunds @graskeggur
https://www.facebook.com/CorylusBooks

About the author

With a unique voice and a style that doesn’t shy away from a sometime graphic take on shocking subject matter, Óskar Guðmundsson is one of the rising stars of the Icelandic crime fiction scene. His debut Hilma was awarded the Icelandic Crime Syndicate’s Drop of Blood award for the best crime novel of 2015, and the TV rights have been acquired by Sagafilm. This was followed by a sequel BloodAngels in 2018. The first of his books published in an English translation, The Commandments, was a standalone novel which appeared in Iceland in 2019. All of Óskar’s books have been bestsellers and rewarded with outstanding reviews.

The first in a new series of novels The Dancer was published in Icelandic simultaneously as an eBook, audiobook, and paperback – accompanied by an original song in which Óskar’s words have been put to music featuring some of Iceland’s leading musicians – and was an immediate bestseller. Óskar’s talents don’t end there, as he is also an artist and has held a number of exhibitions of his work.

About the translator

Quentin Bates has personal and professional roots in Iceland that go very deep. He is an author of series of nine crime novels and novellas featuring the Reykjavik detective Gunnhildur (Gunna) Gísladóttir. In addition to his own fiction, he has translated many works of Iceland’s coolest writers into English, including books by Lilja Sigurðardóttir, Guðlaugur Arason, Einar Kárason, Óskar Guðmundsson, Sólveig Pálsdóttir, Jónína Leosdottir and Ragnar Jónasson. Quentin was instrumental in launching Iceland Noir in 2013, the crime fiction festival in Reykjavik.

Thank you to Corylus Books for inviting me to take part in this blog tour and for the opportunity to read The Dancer.

Murder at the Residence | Stella Blómkvist

Icelandic author Stella Blómkvist transports readers to 2009, a few months after Iceland’s economic collapse, in her first novel translated into English. Dagnija, a dancer at the El Dorado in Reykjavik, has vanished, and her friend Ilona is hoping Stella, a lawyer, can find her.

Lithuanians Dagnija and Ilona were lured to Iceland by New Baltic Models under false pretences. The young woman was last seen leaving a party five days prior, but Porno Valdi, the sleazy owner of the Eldorado and Iceland’s undisputed porn kingpin, denies any involvement. The police don’t want to “waste valuable police time looking for a foreign stripper”. Dagnija’s disappearance is one of multiple plotlines spun by the anonymous author.

On his deathbed, Hákon Hákonarson requests Stella’s presence. Wanting to die with a clear conscience, he admits to killing two men, but also wants Stella to find Ásthildur, the woman he believes to be his daughter. Stella must look into what happened during the summer of 1972 to carry out Hákon’s dying wish. She discovers the heartbreaking story of Hjördis, a drug addict who lost her daughter to Child Welfare and the tragic events that followed.

Meanwhile, Robertas was caught smuggling drugs into Iceland and needs Stella’s help. He was paid to transport a BMW to Reykjavik, but denies smuggling drugs into the country. “Gamblers don’t come much stupider than drug mules”, Stella quips.

Stella’s deadpan, sarcastic remarks are one of the many highlights of Murder at the Residence. When Stella says: “More than likely she’s right. But I have other fish to fry”, we hear the private detective voice associated with classic noir movies and books. She comments, “The pots and pans revolution has begun…” in reference to the kitchenware they use to stir up a ruckus, when a group begins to demonstrate in front of the Parliament building demanding the resignation of ministers implicated in the financial crisis.

The daughter of a well-known minister and the managing director of Kaupthing Bank, Freyja Dögg Hrolfsdottir rebels against everything her parents stand for. While protesting she’s run over by the director of the Central Bank, Bjarni Bjarnason and asks for Stella’s help in suing him. Stella sees in Freyja “.. the enviable conviction and sincerity of youth”, but doesn’t want to stifle her youthful, naive optimism because “[t]ime can do that by itself.”

Still there is no end to Stella’s client list. She discovers the body of a well-known financier, Benedikt Björglfsson, while attending a christening, and is later called in to defend the suspect, drug addict Sverrir Gudbjartsson. Was Björglfsson’s death an act of vengeance, or will she discover the motive for the murder, as well as the killer, in the victim’s past and his connections with three other prominent men?

There’s a lot going on in terms of multiple plotlines, but Blómkvist keeps them up and running until they are merged into a convincing and satisfying resolution. At the core of these stories are important social issues facing Icelandic society. The complete disintegration of the Icelandic financial system had a significant impact on the lives of the country’s inhabitants, including Stella. Corruption in parliament and the banking system, fuelled by greed and power, was at its heart. The author has a solid grasp of the law and/or politics and they may have been a firsthand witness to the events.

Police corruption goes hand in hand with political and corporate corruption, and in this case it’s particularly about protecting one’s own instead of the vulnerable, such as women and children— immigrants or not. Often women are still considered property and treated as such. When Stella interviews a high-powered judge in search of Hákon’s missing daughter, he sneers at her, calling her an “impertinent bitch” while stating that he has always been opposed to women joining the bar, “for good reasons.”

Human and drug trafficking, corruption, and crime are intertwined. Here, as is frequently the case in reality, blame is laid on immigrants, accusing them of destroying Iceland’s innocence. Meanwhile local criminals have been smuggling drugs into the country for years.

Even though characters such Lisa Björk, Stella’s legal assistant; the old newshound, Máki; CID chief superintendent, “Fat Raggi” and Stella’s new love interest, Rosalind, add colour, Stella is unquestionably the star of Murder at the Residence. She is often self-deprecatingly funny and doesn’t take herself seriously. (“Always being right is a real pain in the arse.”) She’s unapologetically brazen, outspoken and unconcerned about what others think of her. Her only weakness is her toddler daughter, whom she refers to as her “little bundle of joy,” “little darling,” or “little sweetheart,” which contrasts sharply with her sarcastic, Jack Daniels-drinking, morally ambiguous personality. Stella is a paradox, but inexplicably likaeble.

Murder at the Residence was written a few years after Blómkvist took a brief break from the series and isn’t the first featuring Stella as protagonist and narrator. Inevitably there are references to her past such as her relationship with Ludmilla, a woman with murky connections to the Baltic underworld and once the love of her life. Other relationships such as the one with her father and the identity of her daughter’s father are alluded to. “Mother” also takes on a role without ever being present. Readers are treated to her eccentric wisdoms at the end of some chapters, such as “The most poisonous vipers no longer hide in the grass.” Similar to the mystery surrounding the author these ambiguities only pique our interest and fuel anticipation for future translations.

Murder at the Residence has everything crime readers would want from a Nordic Noir: a female protagonist with attitude, intriguing plotlines, relevant social themes and dark humour. More please!

Thank you to Corylus Books and Ewa Sherman for inviting me to take part in this blog tour and sharing a review copy with me. Look out for more reviews still to follow.

About the author

Stella Blómkvist has been a bestselling series in Iceland since the first book appeared in the 1990s and has attracted an international audience since the TV series starring Heiða Reed aired. This series features tough, razor-tongued Reykjavík lawyer Stella Blómkvist, with her taste for neat whiskey, a liking for easy money and a moral compass all of her own – and who is at home in the corridors of power as in the city’s darkest nightspots.

The books have been published under a pseudonym that still hasn’t been cracked. The question of Stella Blómkvist’s identity is one that crops up regularly, but it looks like it’s going to remain a mystery…

About the translator

Quentin Bates is a writer, translator and journalist. He has professional and personal roots in Iceland that run very deep. He worked as a seaman before turning to maritime journalism. He is an author of a series of nine crime novels and novellas featuring the Reykjavik detective Gunnhildur (Gunna) Gísladóttir. In addition to writing his own fiction, he has translated books by Guðlaugur Arason, Einar Kárason, and crème de la crème of the Icelandic crime fiction authors Lilja Sigurðardóttir, Óskar Guðmundsson, Jónína Leósdóttir, Sólveig Pálsdóttir and Ragnar Jónasson. Quentin was instrumental in launching IcelandNoir, the crime fiction festival in Reykjavik.

The Girl by the Bridge | Arnaldur Indridason

Icelandic godfather of crime, Arnaldur Indridason, is best known for his series starring Detective Erlendur, but in 2013, he introduced a new protagonist, Detective Konrád in The Shadow District. This was followed by The Darkness Knows and now—The Girl by the Bridge.

Konrád is the stereotypical cold-climate detective, sans the love for alcohol. Retired and rather fed-up with the police force, he tries to avoid dealing with people. When an elderly couple, acquaintances of his deceased wife, begs him to assist them in finding Danni, their granddaughter, he is understandably resistant. Despite his advice to work through the police, they are adamant that he be their point of contact. They claim that they want to avoid media attention, but their insistence doesn’t make sense.

When Konrád discovers Danni dead, presumably from a drug overdose, he turns over the investigation to his police colleagues. Konrád already has a lot on his plate. The death of his low-life father decades ago still haunts him. His father was brutally murdered in front of a slaughterhouse in Reykjavik and the case still hasn’t been solved.

Konrád’s father, together with the father of his friend Eyglo, used to run scams, duping people out of their money by hosting séances. Shortly after his father’s murder Eyglo’s father was also found dead. Could their dubious business dealings have led to their deaths?

Konrád still has contact with Eyglo, but they have a strained relationship because both seem to blame the other for their fathers’ deaths. Eyglo, like her father, can see spirits, and when a little girl appears to her, she recalls a birthday party she attended when she was twelve. During the party a girl appeared, looking for her doll. When she mentions the strange little girl to Konrád, he is sceptical, but his curiosity is piqued.

He discovers an old case from the 1960s involving a twelve-year-old girl who drowned near a bridge in Reykjavik with the assistance of his old police colleagues. At the time, it was assumed that the girl’s doll had fallen into the water, and in an attempt to retrieve it, she had drowned. However, something does not add up. The autopsy report is missing and it becomes clear that the policeman working the case had a rap sheet for among other things, harassing women. Konrád investigates the girl’s past and discovers that she used to live in a dilapidated house in a poor neighbourhood on a hill with her mother and stepbrother. This was a former military camp that was also frequented by men who preyed on the poor women and children who lived there.

The investigation into Danni’s death takes an unexpected turn and Konrád discovers a link between the two girls’ deaths. At its heart are the unsettling social issues that we see so frequently in this genre.

The Girl by the Bridge perfectly fits the Nordic Noir mould. There’s the grumpy detective haunted by his past, multiple crimes, and the horrors of child and sexual abuse feature. If you are looking for a solid, satisfying crime novel set in a colder climate, The Girl by the Bridge will hit the spot perfectly. However, if you’re feeling more daring or have read your fair share of typical Nordic Noir, it may leave you wanting more.

Translated by Philip Roughton and published by Penguin UK.

Deceit by Jónína Leósdóttir

What do you get when you bring together a hypochondriac psychologist with a brusque, socially awkward police officer? One failed marriage, but also a perfect crime-solving team. Adam, a British ex-pat living in Reykjavik, and Soffía, his Icelandic ex-wife, are the main characters in the first of a new crime series by Icelandic crime writer, Jónína Leósdóttir.

Leósdóttir transports us to a perilous and frightening time: the beginning of the COVID pandemic. The pandemic has taken a heavy toll on Iceland, particularly on the Reykjavik police force. Half of the staff has been placed in isolation, leaving Soffía, a detective, with a heavier caseload than usual. When a sewing needle is found in the fruit of a local health store, Soffía is one of the few officers available to investigate. It’s a random malicious act with no clear motive and she needs someone with a psychological background to establish what type of person could be behind the sabotage. Soffía was married to Adam for seventeen years and even though their marriage was unsuccessful, they’re still on speaking terms.

Adam is having difficulty dealing with the pandemic and would have preferred to remain in his basement flat until the pandemic was over and it was safe to resurface. However, since the virus arrived in Iceland the practice he was running with a couple of colleagues has seen a significant drop in clients. He reluctantly agrees to collaborate with Soffía, analise the situation and develop a profile of the criminal. Who would go to such lengths, and why? Is it to harm the company or their customers? Adam and Soffía don’t have much time to speculate; soon a second business is targeted. Needles are discovered in the toilet paper of a cafe owned by two siblings. No one with a conscience would jeopardise the lives of complete strangers; it had to be personal. Is there, however, a link between the victims?

Fortunately, no one was injured during the first two attacks. The third time the dog of an art gallery owner is not so lucky. During a gallery opening, Emile feeds his dog a bacon-wrapped sausage, one of the snacks provided by the caterers, who also happen to be the siblings’ cafe. Shortly after the hotel where Emile lived burns down; he luckily escapes unscathed.

A subplot revolves around a young woman’s search for her biological father. Rebekka’s stepfather approaches Adam for advice about his daughter, who has Huntington’s disease. Her mother recently died, and all Rebekka knows is that her father is a man with the initial “S” who lived in Borgnes, based on letters her mother received. Rebekka doesn’t want to reconnect with her father.; she wants to kill him in retaliation for the terminal disease she inherited from him. Adam refers Rebekka to Jenny, a female colleague with whom he is very close.

Iceland is a small country where everyone is connected and/or related which is evident in this series of events. The thread that connects the victims and their attacker is fragile, nearly invisible, yet, it’s strong enough to have remained in place for decades.

These close connections between Icelanders made Adam feel as if he could never truly belong. He’d always be an outsider no matter how long he lived in the country. Nonetheless, after divorcing Soffía, he decided to remain in Iceland. A deciding factor was the couple’s independent and unpredictable daughter, Magret, a girl who “who fluttered like a butterfly between departments at the University of Iceland” as much as she fluttered between boys. Magret is the polar opposite of her father, a neurotic man with obsessive compulsive symptoms exacerbated by a global pandemic.

Deceit’s strength comes from its two main characters. Yes, it’s an intriguing, unique plot with numerous potential resolutions, but it’s Adam and Soffía who keep us interested and reading. And this is good news, because hopefully, we’ll be seeing more of them in future.

Soffía is one of the most likable unlikable characters. She’s not the stereotypical policeman with psychological scars or addictions (aside from liquorice and coffee), but rather a direct, undiplomatic woman who knows what she wants, can’t deal with awkward social situations and is “the uncrowned Icelandic champion at ending unproductive conversations.” Adam’s parents, an “elaborately courteous middle-class English couple,” could never get used to the confident and forthright woman who fell in love with their only son. We shouldn’t like someone who was called “The Bulldozer” by her in-laws but inexplicably we do.

Soffía’s bossy nature is the antithesis of Adam, an introspective man with challenging character traits, some more visible than others. The verbal sparring between the ex-partners makes for amusing dialogue. Soffía enjoys mocking Adam for being English: obeying rules too willingly and without question, their habit of forming an orderly queue quickly, and their constant apologising. Adam usually just bites his tongue and carries on.

This believable relationship anchors the story and serves as the foundation for future novels in the series. Deceit is well-written, engaging, and fresh. Jónina Leósdóttir is unquestionably a welcome addition to the elite group of Icelandic authors whose works have been translated into English for which we have Quentin Bates to thank.

Deceit is published in eBook on 30 October 2022 and on 15 November 2022 in paperback. Thank you to the publisher, Corylus Books, for inviting me to take part in the book tour and for a review copy of Deceit. For more reviews be sure to check out the rest of the book tour.

About the author

Jónína Leósdóttir is an Icelandic author and playwright. She studied modern languages and Latin and has a BA-degree in English and Literature. She has written twenty books, fiction and non-fiction, many short stories and plays for radio and television. In 2016 Jónína ‘turned to crime’ with a five-book series about amateur sleuth Edda. In 2021 she introduced a new crime-solving duo, detective Soffía and her ex-husband and psychologist Adam.

In 2013 Jónína published a memoir about her relationship with Jóhanna Sigurðardóttir, former Prime Minister of Iceland. The couple fell in love in 1985 and had a turbulent relationship in the closet for 15 years, before finally setting up home together in 2000. They later married and Jóhanna became the first openly LGBT+ leader in the world.

Jónína Leósdóttir has received awards for her work – for poetry, short stories and books for young adults. She was instrumental in establishing The Icelandic Women’s Literary Prize in 2007 and is now an honorary member of the association that awards the prize.

About the translator

Quentin Bates is a writer, translator and journalist. He has professional and personal roots in Iceland that run very deep. He worked as a seaman before turning to maritime journalism. He is an author of series of nine crime novels and novellas the Reykjavik detective featuring Gunnhildur (Gunna) Gísladóttir. In addition to writing his own fiction, he has translated books by Lilja Sigurðardóttir, Guðlaugur Arason, Einar Kárason, Óskar Guðmundsson and Ragnar Jónasson. Quentin was instrumental in launching IcelandNoir, the crime fiction festival in Reykjavik.

Harm | Sólveig Pálsdóttir

In Herjólfsdalur, a town on the Westman Islands in the remote southern part of Iceland, Diljá wakes up to find her older doctor-boyfriend, Ríkarður, dead next to her in bed. The couple was on a short vacation with Diljá’s friends. Ríkarður didn’t want to stay in the hotel with her friends, so they took up residence in the luxury caravan he purchased a few days earlier. Ríkarður wanted Diljá all to himself. He also disliked her health-obsessed, active, and adventurous friends, their taunting about his age and being woken up at an ungodly hour in the morning to go biking, swimming in the sea, or taking an ice bath.

The previous night, the couple was out with the rest of the group at a local restaurant when a drunk Ríkarður embarrassed Diljá. She returned him to the caravan, but not before slipping him some sleeping pills. Diljá wasn’t done for the night, and when she returned at four a.m. she didn’t even notice that Ríkarður was no longer alive.

When she eventually realises he’s dead the next morning, she flees the scene in a panic, believing she caused his death by giving him an overdose of sleeping pills. Diljá has been in similar situations where telling the truth backfired. For the first time, she felt she was getting her life in order and that everything she had worked so hard for was coming together, only to be destroyed again.

When the couple fails to appear for lunch the next day, one of Diljá’s friends, Ásmundur, goes looking for them and discovers Ríkarður’s body. Diljá is nowhere in sight and Detectives Guðgeir Fransson and Elsa Guðrún are called in from Reykjavík to conduct the investigation into what appears to be a murder.

Since we last saw Guðgeir, he has become a grandfather and his daughter, Ólöf, is following in the footsteps of her mother, Inga, and she is in her third year of law school. Ólöf’s on-again, off-again relationship with her little boy’s father, Smári, is still a sore topic for Guðgeir.

It emerges that Diljá has a history of psychological problems, is on medication and has spent time in a psychiatric ward. Another incident could result in her losing custody of her eleven-year-old daughter. Her mother and friends paint an unflattering picture of her: impulsive, irresponsible, and always in trouble. Ríkarður was also not the first wealthy, older man she had a relationship with. It’s easy to see why Ríkarður’s two adult children believe she was a gold-digger and only after their inheritance. She certainly fit the bill. But is there more to the story than meets the eye?

After interviewing the four friends, consisting of Ingi Thór, Eygló, Ásmundur and Katrín, the detectives become suspicious about their rendition of the previous night’s events. Something feels off. No-one really seems to have known Ríkharður despite his relationship with one of their best friends. They’re not upset by his death either, but mostly irritated by the inconvenience of it. And where is Diljá? Has she been kidnapped, murdered or is she a murderer on the run?

Among a cast of mostly unlikable characters Detective Guðgeir Fransson stands out as the good, reliable guy. He’s on top form when he’s at a crime scene searching for clues and evidence. He’s good at his job—even though his boss, Særós, occasionally gets on his nerves with her motivational quotes and super-efficiency. He’s kind nature shows in his concern for the welfare of his colleague, Elsa, who was the victim of a brutal attack in her home the previous year and is still recovering from the traumatic experience. Guðgeir loves his wife and adores his grandchild.

In stark contrast Diljá’s friends appear self-centred and superficial. They are linked by their jobs at a fitness centre and their search for spiritual enlightenment. Part of their vacation was spent planning a spiritual journey to South America involving hallucinogenics in order to work on the emotional damage from their youth—a turbulent childhood was something else they had in common.

Naturally we make our own assumptions based on the information that’s divulged bit by bit. Was there a conspiracy to get rid of Ríkarður for his money or was someone else holding a grudge against him? Was Diljá only interested in Ríkarður for his money? Was he just a poor gullible, vulnerable man being played by a beautiful, troubled young woman?

Sólveig Pálsdóttir cleverly leads us by our noses and challenges our assumptions and the preconceived ideas we didn’t even know we had. Our allegiances shift from one character to the next as small, but important details about their personalities and background are revealed. Harm is anything but predictable and even though it’s relatively short, it’s packed full of intrigue and misdirection. A perfect read for fans of Icelandic crime fiction.

Harm was originally published as Skaði in 2021 by Salka in Iceland. It’s the third novel featuring the soft-spoken Reykjavík detective Guðgeir Fransson to appear in English thanks to the translation of Quentin Bates. Harm is published by Corylus Books who invited me to take part in the blog tour and provided me with a review copy. Do keep an eye out for more reviews on this tour over the next few weeks.

About the author

Sólveig Pálsdóttir trained as an actor and has a background in the theatre, television and radio. In a second career she studied for degrees in literature and education, and has taught literature and linguistics, drama and public speaking. She has also produced both radio programming and managed cultural events. Her first novel appeared in Iceland in 2012 and went straight to the country’s bestseller list. She has written six novels featuring Reykjavík detective Guðgeir Fransson, and a memoir Klettaborgin which was a 2020 hit in Iceland. Silenced (Fjötrar) received the 2020 Drop of Blood award for the best Icelandic novel of the year and was Iceland’s nomination for the 2021 Glass key award for the best Nordic crime novel of the year. Harm (Skaði), published in October 2021 in Iceland, made it to the bestseller list just like the previous books, and is her third novel to appear in English, following The Fox and Silenced.

She took part in several crime fiction and literary festivals such as Bristol’s CrimeFest, Newcastle Noir, Aberdeen’s Granite Noir and Iceland Noir. Sólveig lives in Reykjavík.

About the translator

Quentin Bates has professional and personal roots in Iceland that run very deep. He worked as a seaman before turning to maritime journalism. He is an author of series of nine crime novels and novellas the Reykjavik detective featuring Gunnhildur (Gunna) Gísladóttir. In addition to writing his own fiction, he has translated books by Lilja Sigurðardóttir, Guðlaugur Arason, Einar Kárason, Óskar Guðmundsson and Ragnar Jónasson. Quentin was instrumental in launching IcelandNoir, the crime fiction festival in Reykjavik.