Yrsa Sigurdardottir

A box of photo albums is found in the attic of a house in Hofn, a small fishing village on the south coast of Iceland. The new owners return it to the man who sold them the house, along with a muddied child's shoe with a name written on the sole: Salvor. The man is baffled; they never knew anyone called that. Shortly after the phone rings - it's the nursing home where his mother, an Alzheimer's patient, lives. She's suffered a heart attack and the...

On a cold day in Reykjavik, a baby goes missing from her pram. When the child's blanket washes up on the beach, and the mother is found dead, everyone's worst fears seem to have been realised. Eleven years later, and detective Huldar and child psychologist Freyja are now working in the same police building, on the same team. Freyja believes that personal and professional relationships must remain separate, however hard that may be. But when a woman's...

The murder was meant as a punishment - but what sin could justify the method? The only person who might have answers is the victim's 7-year-old daughter, found hiding in the room where her mother died. And she's not talking. Newly promoted, out of his depth, detective Huldar turns to Freyja and the Children's House for their expertise with traumatised young people. Freyja, who distrusts the police in general and Huldar in particular, isn't best pleased....

It was meant to be a quiet family fishing trip, a chance for mother and daughter to talk. But it changes the course of their lives forever. They catch nothing except a broken doll that gets tangled in the net. After years in the ocean, the doll is a terrifying sight and the mother's first instinct is to throw it back, but she relents when her daughter pleads to keep it. This simple act of kindness proves fatal. That evening, the mother posts a picture...

The light spilling in from the corridor would have to do. Though weak, it was sufficient to show Aldis a boy sitting in the gloom at the furthest table. He had his back to her, so she couldn't see who it was, but could tell that he was one of the youngest. A chill ran down her spine when he spoke again, without turning, as if he had eyes in the back of his head. 'Go away. Leave me alone'. 'Come on. You shouldn't be here'. Aldis spoke gently, fairly...

A journalist on the track of an old case attempts suicide. An ordinary couple return from a house swap in the States to find their home in disarray and their guests seemingly missing. Four strangers struggle to find shelter on a windswept spike of rock in the middle of a raging sea. They have one thing in common: they all lied. And someone is determined to punish them.

Thora peered at the floor, but couldn't see anything that could have frightened Markus that much, only three mounds of dust. She moved the light of her torch over them. It took her some time to realize what she was seeing - and then it was all she could do not to let the torch slip from her hand.