Far North - Michael Ridpath [115]
‘Old friend?’ said Björn.
Sindri shrugged. Not in front of Gulli.
‘OK,’ said Björn. ‘See you then.’
The Grey Cat was a cosy book-lined café down some steps on Hverfisgata. It lay opposite the Central Bank, also known as ‘The Black Fort’, built in brutalist bunker style, the most hated building in Iceland. Just outside, Ingólfur Arnarson leaned on his shield staring out towards the harbour.
Björn saw Sindri’s broad leather hat as soon as he walked in. He was sitting in a booth at the back, the bulk of his body wedged between the orange table and the red leather bench. Opposite him was a smaller, trimmer figure. It took Björn a moment to recognize Ísak, the student.
Björn took a chair next to Ísak and asked the waitress for a cup of coffee. Sindri ordered a large American breakfast of pancakes and bacon, the Grey Cat’s speciality, served all day. Ísak ordered a bagel.
‘Have you two kept in contact?’ Björn asked. ‘I thought we decided to stay away from each other?’
‘No, at least not until last week,’ Sindri said. ‘Ísak dropped by my flat. We had a talk.’
‘About what we did last January?’ Björn said.
‘More about what we are going to do this autumn,’ Ísak said.
Björn raised his eyebrows. ‘We?’
‘Ísak and me,’ said Sindri. ‘And you. If you want to join us.’
Björn parked the pickup outside the bakery. He hesitated, glancing across the bay towards the Hallgrímskirkja above downtown Reykjavík. There was no going back now. He took a deep breath and opened the door.
The place was empty. Harpa’s face lit up when she saw him. She skipped around the counter and fell into his arms.
‘Oh, Björn. I’m so sorry I doubted you. Will you forgive me?’
‘There’s nothing to forgive. I need a cup of coffee. Do you want one?’
‘OK.’
‘I’ll get it,’ Björn said. There were a couple of urns containing coffee along one wall. Björn poured himself and Harpa a cup. They sat down at a table.
‘So you’ve decided you are going to the police?’ Björn asked.
Harpa nodded her head.
‘Are you absolutely sure? No matter what the consequences?’
‘I have to,’ said Harpa. ‘If someone else were to die, I couldn’t bear it.’
‘I understand.’ Björn relaxed. There was no point in trying to talk her out of it. He was committed now. He sipped his coffee. Harpa didn’t touch hers.
She smiled at Björn. ‘I’m so glad you do. What I feel worst about is that I might get you in trouble.’
‘And Sindri and Ísak. And the kid Frikki.’
‘I don’t care about them. Well maybe I care about the boy. I certainly don’t care about me. But I do care about you.’
Björn smiled. He was touched. He was beginning to think he really could persuade her. Later.
‘Can you help me think how to do it? I mean, if there is a way I could warn the police without getting you thrown in jail? I’ve been thinking about an anonymous tip-off, but I’m not sure how I can do that without giving them details that would incriminate you.’
‘That’s why I came down here,’ said Björn. ‘To come up with a plan. But first there is someone I want you to meet.’
He gulped down his coffee. Harpa still hadn’t touched hers. What was wrong with the woman? She always drank her coffee. Especially when she was wound up.
‘Who?’
‘You’ll see.’
Harpa sipped some of her coffee. Björn took her hand. ‘We’ll figure this out, Harpa. I know we will.’
Harpa looked up and smiled. ‘God, I hope so.’
‘Come on, finish your coffee and let’s go.’
Harpa hastily emptied her cup. ‘OK. Wait a second. I just need to make sure it’s OK with Dísa to leave early.’
Björn waited for Harpa as she had a quick word with her boss. ‘All right, let’s go,’ she said. They went outside. Harpa saw Björn’s pickup. ‘No motorbike?’
‘It’s being serviced,’ Björn said.
They climbed in and Björn headed off towards the ring road. He headed east. He didn’t have any specific destination in mind. Just drive. Rohypnol was a sedative and one of the most popular date-rape drugs because it was tasteless and could induce amnesia, especially when mixed with alcohol.