Far North - Michael Ridpath [11]
It wasn’t as if the boys in the Violent Crimes Unit downtown had had much to do. In June a man had been found stabbed to death in the street at four on a Sunday morning. The first cops to the scene had solved the crime, figuring that the eighteen-year-old kid out of his skull on speed, waving a knife soaked in blood around his head and shouting how he would kill anyone else who came near him was a likely suspect.
Magnus had given his word to Snorri Gudmundsson, the National Police Commissioner, that he would stay for two years. He owed it to him for providing him with refuge when the Dominican gang from back home were after him, and to Árni for taking a bullet when the hit man they sent to Reykjavík had caught up with him.
Of course the Dominicans knew where he was now. Their boss might be in Cedar Junction jail back in Massachusetts, put there with the help of Magnus’s testimony, but there were plenty of gang members still at large. Magnus hoped that now that he had done his stint as a witness he was no longer a target, but he couldn’t be sure. He could never be sure.
But it was going to be hard to stick it out in Reykjavík. Four months and he was already climbing the walls.
Árni was right though. He should make a call. Try to get assigned on to this Óskar Gunnarsson case. You never knew, there might be something in it. It would make a change. And it might be interesting to deal with the British police.
But who to call? Baldur would just say no, that was for sure. Magnus knew the Commissioner would take his call, but he wanted to save that access for when he really needed it. Thorkell Holm, head of CID, was his best bet. It would piss Baldur off, but that was just tough.
He took out his phone, called the police switchboard and asked to be put through.
Then he heard a giggle.
He looked up.
There was a naked woman lying on his bed.
‘Ingileif! What the hell are you doing here?’
She threw off the covers and bounded over to him in the chair. ‘You didn’t see me, did you? What kind of cop are you when you can’t even spot a woman lying under your bed covers, desperate for sex?’
‘You were hiding!’ Magnus protested.
‘Pathetic.’
She straddled him. Her familiar, delightful breasts shook inches away from his face as she laughed, her blonde hair falling loose over her face.
‘How did you get a key?’
‘Oh, do be quiet, Magnús. I’ve been waiting here half an hour for you. And you have far too many clothes on.’
‘But—’
She kissed him. Deeply. He raised his hands to her bare hips. He didn’t care how she had got in. He wanted her. Now.
A muffled crackling came from his phone, which had dropped to the floor. Ingileif broke away and picked it up.
‘Yes?’
‘Give it to me!’ Magnus cried, reaching for the phone.
Ingileif turned away. ‘I am sorry, Sergeant Magnús is busy right now. He’ll be with you as soon as he has finished. He probably won’t be more than a couple of minutes. Doesn’t usually take him longer than that.’
‘Ingileif!’ Magnus pushed her off his lap and on to the floor. Ingileif triumphantly hit the red disconnect button just before Magnus could grab the phone.
‘That was a Chief Superintendent someone or other,’ Ingileif said. ‘Don’t worry, he said he quite understood.’
Magnus picked her up off the floor and threw her down on to the bed.
It is extremely difficult to make love to a woman who won’t stop laughing.
‘Can I watch LazyTown now?’
Harpa glanced at her son’s plate, which was empty.
‘Did you watch TV at Granny’s house?’
‘No.’ Markús shook his curly head and looked straight at her with his big clear brown eyes. Harpa knew that small children often lied, but not Markús. He never lied, at least not to her. Where did he get that honesty from? Not from his father, that was for sure.
And not from her.
‘All right, off you go.’
Harpa followed her child as he scampered into the living room and she slotted the DVD into the player.
She went back into the kitchen and stacked their dishes in the dishwasher. She liked to eat with her son, even though it was early.
From out of the kitchen window