Far North - Michael Ridpath [106]
‘Don’t lecture me on duty!’ The Commissioner was shouting now. ‘Baldur did the right thing. He told you to keep digging, but do it quietly. You disobeyed him. You are now off the case. I want you back at the college today. And…’ he paused. ‘When this has all settled down I will review whether we need you in this country at all.’
Magnus swallowed. ‘I understand,’ he said. ‘And I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry doesn’t cut it, Magnús.’ The Commissioner glared at him. Magnus took that as an invitation to leave the room.
*
There was a queue of three people at the bakery when Harpa saw her father come in. Immediately, her heart started racing. What had he discovered? Had Björn really gone to London and France as Frikki’s Polish girlfriend had suggested?
She glanced at him. He smiled reassuringly and stood in the queue. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?
The three customers seemed to take for ever. Then a fourth came in, and Einar let her go in front of him. Fortunately Dísa was serving as well.
Finally Einar reached the counter.
‘Well?’ Harpa asked, her eyes wide.
‘I’ll have a kleina,’ Einar said, a smile cracking his rocky face.
‘I meant, did you ask about Björn?’
‘I did. And he was out with Gústi on the Kría last Tuesday. And on Sunday he spent the morning with Siggi in Grundarfjördur harbour helping him install his navigation software.’
Harpa smiled broadly as the relief surged through her. ‘Thanks, Dad. There’s no doubt about it is there?’
‘No. I spoke to the harbourmaster and to Gústi. I couldn’t get hold of Siggi, but the harbourmaster sounded confident. Apparently Björn had a visit from the police on Sunday as well.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ said Harpa. ‘Thank you so much, Dad.’
Einar leaned forward so that Dísa couldn’t hear. ‘So no need to go to the police then, eh?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe I still should?’
‘Oh, come on, Harpa. You’ll just get yourself in trouble.’
‘OK,’ she said, nodding.
‘Good girl. See you later.’
‘Nice to see you smiling for once,’ said Dísa after the door closed behind Einar.
‘Yes,’ said Harpa. The relief was making her giddy. How could she ever have suspected Björn?
‘That your Dad?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. Because he didn’t pay for his kleina.’
‘Oh, sorry,’ said Harpa. ‘I’ll pay. We were a little distracted.’
‘I could see that.’
Harpa smiled to herself. Her father had come through for her. Again. To the outside world, to some of his crew for instance, she knew he came across as a tough irascible bastard. But she had always known he was a good man. And it was so comforting to know that that toughness and strength was on her side.
He would do anything for her, and for his wife and for little Markús.
But within a few minutes the euphoria wore off, elbowed aside by a nagging worry. Yes, it was good that Björn wasn’t involved in a plot to murder Óskar and Julian Lister, but that didn’t mean that Sindri wasn’t. Harpa was beginning to regret the promise she had made to her father. He was right, it was none of her business, but if Sindri had killed two people he could kill three. She had to let the police know about her suspicions.
But they were just that, suspicions. What if the police checked them out, discovered Sindri was totally innocent, and also decided to ask more questions about Gabríel Örn? Then she would have achieved nothing and still end up in jail.
But what if she was right? And perhaps jail was where she should be. She had committed a crime, she should pay for it.
Whatever she had told her father, she knew the right thing to do. Tell the police. But first she should speak to Björn. At least now that she knew he was innocent she could talk to him properly about it.
The bakery was quiet. She told Dísa she was going outside to make a phone call.
It was a lovely morning. Above the city the light grey concrete of the Hallgrímskirkja gleamed almost white through its sheath of scaffolding. The bay sparkled.