Page 43 of Odin

Sibyl just shook her head. "Some things just don't translate. Astrid, will you set these men free?"

Astrid smiled. "Yes. For to undo my father's work is to set myself free, also."

FORTY-SEVEN

"Doctor Freyja Valdis?"

Freyja forced out a smile as she held the door open wider for the small crowd outside. "That's me. Please come in."

Ingrid, the only woman among them, shook hands with her before sidling inside, followed by the two police officers and an older man Freyja assumed was the university photographer.

"Can you show us where the body was found?" one of the police asked.

Freya couldn't help it – she laughed. "I can show you pictures of the dig site in the mountains where it was found, and the preliminary x-rays I took this morning, now the power's back on, but if you want to see the dig site, you'll have to wait for Jakop and his packhorses, and when they do their next supply run in a few days. Unless you can get approval to send in another helicopter, but you'd best talk to Karl, the expedition leader, before you do that. Conditions up there can be very different to the weather we get here."

The police officers held a muttered exchange in Norwegian that Freyja didn't understand. Finally, one of them nodded. "Show us the body, then."

Freyja led them to the necropsy lab, swiped the door open, and headed for the fridge. She threw open the door just as she had for Thor, Loki and the others, but this time, she knew exactly what she'd find. Orm had not moved since she'd x-rayed him, and Astrid has assured her that unlike Odin, he was definitely dead.

Ingrid's photographer was in there first, snapping photos of the body in the fridge, while the police officers pulled on protective clothing. Freyja just stood back and watched – she had a forensics degree herself, so there was nothing the police would discover that she didn't already know. Orm belonged in an archaeology lab, not in the hands of a police coroner.

Finally, one of the men peeled off his mask, then his gloves. "Not a police matter. You can keep him," he said.

So they'd missed a few details, had they? "That's what we thought. Even if he was murdered, or executed, we estimate it was over a thousand years ago, so there isn't much chance of catching the killer. The ultimate cold case," Freyja said.

The talkative one stared at her. "Murdered? How can you be sure?"

Freyja pulled on her own pair of gloves, then delicately pulled aside a fold of Orm's shirt, revealing the knife buried in his guts. "Well, there's this, which indicated he probably died a slow, agonising death, and there's also the runestone that was found with him, that describes the crimes he was executed for. An example of early Norwegian justice at work."

Both officers grinned at that. Then they were asked to pose for pictures, though with their faces hidden, before they insisted they needed to get back.

After the police left, Freyja wheeled the body out into the necropsy lab, where the photographer could make use of better lighting and more space to take more photos and video of the body, before she returned it to the fridge and had to answer a lot of questions from Ingrid on what she'd learned about Orm.

Freyja found herself repeating plenty of variations of "I don't know yet" until Ingrid was finally satisfied, and put her laptop away. If any of the reporters who received the press release wanted to ask further questions, they would contact Freyja, Ingrid said.

Freyja wished she could refuse, but Karl's discovery deserved all the press coverage she could get. Even if it was Orm, and not Odin.

Speaking of Odin...where was he?

FORTY-EIGHT

A white, boxy cart, much larger than the vehicles Freyja's visitors had arrived in, trundled up the road, past the main building, and round the back, to where the courtyard was still filled with snow. A man got out of the cart and swore.

"Who is that?" Thor asked.

Sibyl shrugged. "I have no idea. He looks like he's headed for the shed where the waste barrels are kept, but they don't get collected until the end of the season. It's cheaper for the university to only pay for one truck trip, because the truck needs special waste permits. There aren't any signs on the outside of that van, so I doubt he's here officially. You should go ask him."

"Me?" Odin asked.

"Sure. You're Olaf, the caretaker, or at least that's what it says on your overalls," Sibyl said.

But Freyja had said to stay out of everyone's way, until the police left. She wouldn't like this.

"He's wearing the same thing," Odin said, pointing at Thor.

Sibyl raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Fine. Both of you go and ask him, then. Ask if he needs any help."

Odin trudged into the courtyard, almost wishing Astrid hadn't broken the curse, so that the snow wouldn't slow him down like it did now. Did they not have snowshoes in this time? He hailed the man.

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