The first in the electrifying new Forbidden Iceland series, The Creak on the Stairs is an exquisitely written, claustrophobic and chillingly atmospheric debut thriller by one of Iceland’s most exciting new talents.
When the body of a woman is discovered at a lighthouse in the Icelandic town of Akranes, it soon becomes clear that she’s no stranger to the area.
Chief Investigating Officer Elma, who has returned to Akranes following a failed relationship, and her colleagues Sævar and Hörður, commence an uneasy investigation, which uncovers a shocking secret in the dead woman’s past that continues to reverberate in the present day…
But as Elma and her team make a series of discoveries, they bring to light a host of long-hidden crimes that shake the entire community. Sifting through the rubble of the townspeople’s shattered memories, they have to dodge
increasingly serious threats, and find justice … before it ’s too late.
Extract
It was Saturday evening and Akranes’s most popular restaurant was packed out, but then there wasn’t much competition. Despite the unpromising exterior, it was contemporary and chic inside, with black furniture, grey walls and flattering lighting. Magnea sat up a little straighter as she surveyed the other diners. She knew she was looking her best this evening in a figure-hugging black jumpsuit and was conscious of all the eyes straying inadvertently to her cleavage. Bjarni was sitting opposite her, and whenever their gazes met she read the promise in his eyes about what would happen once they got home. She would have given anything to be dining alone with him instead of having his parents seated either side of her.
They were celebrating the fact that Bjarni was finally taking over the family firm. He had been employed there ever since he finished school, but despite being the boss’s son, he had been forced to work hard for the title of managing director. He’d put in a huge number of hours, often working evenings and weekends, and had, in practice, been running the firm alongside his father for several years. But now, at last, it was official: he was formally taking over as managing director. This meant double the salary and double the responsibility, but this evening, at least, he was determined to relax.
The waiter brought a bottle of red wine and poured a splash into Bjarni’s glass. After he had tasted it and signalled his approval, the waiter filled their glasses, then retreated, leaving the bottle behind on the table.
‘Skál!’ Bjarni’s father, Hendrik, raised his glass. ‘To Bjarni and his unstoppable energy. Now he can add the title of managing director to his list of achievements. As his parents, we’re hugely proud of him, as we always have been.’
They clinked glasses and tasted the expensive wine. Magnea was careful to take only a tiny sip, allowing no more than a few drops to pass between her red-painted lips.
‘I wouldn’t have got where I am today without this gorgeous girl beside me,’ Bjarni said, his voice slurring a little. He’d had a whisky while they were waiting for his parents and, as always when he drank spirits, the alcohol had gone straight to his head.
‘I’ve lost count of the times I’ve come home late from the office and never, not once, has my darling wife complained, although she has more than enough to do at work herself.’ He gazed adoringly at Magnea and she blew him a kiss over the table.
Hendrik turned an indulgent look on Ása but, instead of returning his smile, she averted her eyes, her mouth tight with disapproval. Magnea sighed under her breath. She had given up trying to win her mother-in-law round. These days she didn’t really care anymore. When she and Bjarni had first moved in together she had made a real effort to impress Ása, making sure the house was immaculate whenever his parents were coming over, baking specially for them and generally bending over backwards to earn her mother-in-law’s approval. But it had been a lost cause. Her efforts were invariably rewarded with the same critical look; the look that said the cake was too dry, the bathroom wasn’t sufficiently sparkling clean and the floors could have done with another going over. The message was clear: however hard she tried, Magnea would never be good enough for Bjarni.
‘How’s the teaching going, Magnea?’ Hendrik asked. ‘Are those brats behaving themselves?’ Unlike his wife he had always had a soft spot for his daughter-in-law. Perhaps that was one reason for Ása’s hostility. Hendrik never missed a chance to touch Magnea, put an arm round her shoulders or waist, or kiss her on the cheek. He was a big man, in contrast to his dainty wife, and had a reputation in Akranes as a bit of a shark when it came to business. He had a charming smile that Bjarni had inherited, and a powerful, slightly husky, voice. Regular drinking had turned his features coarse and red, yet Magnea liked him better than Ása, so she put up with the wandering hands and the flirtation, which all seemed harmless enough to her.
‘They usually behave themselves for me,’ Magnea replied, smiling at him. At that moment the waiter came back to take their order.
The evening went pretty smoothly: Bjarni and Hendrik chatted about work and football; Ása sat in silence, apparently sunk in her own thoughts, and Magnea smiled at the two men from time to time, contributing the odd word, but otherwise sat quietly like Ása. It was a relief when the meal was over and they could leave. The cold night air sneaked inside her thin coat once they were outside and she took Bjarni’s arm, pressing close to him.
They had the rest of the evening to themselves.
It wasn’t until Bjarni had fallen asleep beside her in bed that she remembered the face. She saw again the pair of dark eyes that had met hers when she glanced across the restaurant. For much of the night she lay wide awake, trying to ward off the memories that flashed into her mind with a stark clarity every time she closed her eyes.
AUTHOR BIO
THE NUMBER ONE ICELANDIC BESTSELLER WINNER OF THE BLACKBIRD AWARD FOR NEW ICELANDIC CRIME WRITERS
Born in Akranes in 1988, Eva moved to Trondheim, Norway to study my MSc in Globalisation when she was 25. After moving back home having completed her MSc, she knew it was time to start working on her novel. Eva has wanted to write books since she was 15 years old, having won a short story contest in Iceland.
Eva worked as a stewardess to make ends meet while she wrote her first
novel. The book went on to win the Blackbird Award and became an
Icelandic bestseller. Eva now lives with her husband and three children in Reykjavík, staying at home with her youngest until she begins Kindergarten.
I will probably be buying myself a copy of this book.
Everything Is Better With Dragons 
Thanks for the blog tour support Rosie xx