Far North - Michael Ridpath [121]
‘Jealous? Why would I be jealous?’
‘Yes, jealous. Because I found out more in one night than you’ve been able to find out in a whole week.’
‘That’s ridiculous!’ said Magnus. What really riled him was that there was a germ of truth in what Ingileif said. He was jealous. And she had used illegal methods: she had cheated, not just the law but him. ‘We can’t use any of that evidence. And if the defence attorneys discover there is a link between you and me, which they will, then there is a good chance that the case would be thrown out for entrapment.’
Actually Magnus had no idea whether that would apply in Iceland. But it would certainly have been one hell of a problem in America.
‘How can you be angry with me when I helped you like that?’ said Ingileif. ‘Can you imagine how creepy it is to talk to that lecherous old man for hours, have his hands all over me, when all I’m trying to do is help you?’
‘His hands all over you?’ Magnus asked.
‘You see you are jealous.’
‘Yes, I damn well am jealous!’ Magnus shouted. ‘I didn’t ask you to do all that. I didn’t ask you to seduce Sindri.’
‘I didn’t exactly seduce him. And anyway, I can talk to whoever I want.’
‘Talk, yes. But everything else?’
‘Are you accusing me of sleeping with other men?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Magnus. But it was a question that always nagged at the back of his mind with Ingileif. ‘Maybe. Do you?’
Ingileif stared at him. ‘Do up your shirt. I’m off.’
For a moment Magnus thought of asking her to stay, but only for a moment. Under her rules she could come and go as she pleased. Then so be it.
She went, banging the door behind her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Wednesday, 23 September 2009
HARPA SMELLED THE coffee. She opened her eyes. Blinked.
Her head was heavy with sleep and she was confused. Above her, not very far above her, were wooden beams and a roof. She was lying in a sleeping bag. Next to her was another sleeping bag, empty.
But it had the familiar smell of Björn: male sweat and a hint of fish.
She leaned on her elbow. The coffee smelled good.
She was in a hut. Grey early morning light slipped in through the top of a window. She could hear someone moving about below.
‘Björn?’
‘Good morning.’
She slid over to the top of a ladder. She realized she was in a raised sleeping loft in some kind of hut. Panic overtook her, but disappeared when she saw Björn’s reassuring smile. ‘Here. Come down and have a cup of coffee. Do you want some breakfast?’
Carefully she climbed down the ladder. She was wearing a T-shirt and underpants, but the hut was warm. Wood was burning in a stove.
Her head was still muzzy. She felt as if she had just woken up from a dream, except she was waking up into a dream.
‘Björn, where are we?’ she asked.
He kissed her quickly on the lips. ‘In a mountain hut. I thought we could get away for a few days.’
Harpa blinked. ‘You know, I don’t remember coming here at all.’
‘You were very tired. You slept in the car.’
‘Did I?’ Harpa scrambled to make sense of it. She could remember Björn coming to meet her in the bakery, and then nothing. Very strange.
‘Where’s Markús?’
‘With your parents. We left them a note.’
‘I don’t remember that.’
‘Well, I left them a note.’
Harpa sat on a chair by the table and sipped her coffee. Her brain cleared a little. ‘Where is this hut, Björn?’
‘Near Grundarfjördur. It’s on the old road from Stykkishólmur to Borgarnes. But no one comes here any more. It’s very peaceful.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Harpa.
Björn took her hand over the table. ‘You’ve been under a lot of pressure recently. You need a rest.’ He squeezed it. Smiled. For a moment she was comforted by that smile.
Then she withdrew her hand. ‘Wait a minute. We didn’t talk about this, did we? We were going to the police. To tell them about Sindri and the student. Isn’t that where we were driving?’
Björn swallowed. ‘No.’
‘Björn. What’s going on here?’ Then Harpa’s eyes widened. ‘You’ve kidnapped me, haven’t you?’
‘No,’ said Björn.
‘OK. In that case let me find my phone