Far North - Michael Ridpath [125]
‘Do you really think I’m going to take any notice of this information?’ Baldur asked.
‘Well, yes,’ said Magnus. ‘We need to warn all the Outvaders we can find. Their lives might be in danger.’
‘These are still some of the most important people in the country. And you want me to put them on high alert on the basis of the ravings of a drunken fantasist trying to get a woman into bed?’
‘He’s not necessarily a fantasist,’ said Magnus.
‘Oh yes he is,’ said Baldur. ‘We’ve been watching Sindri on and off for at least a decade. He talks big, but he doesn’t do anything. People like Sindri never do anything. And when they get drunk they just talk bigger.’
‘So you think that Sindri was just boasting?’
‘Show me evidence that he wasn’t.’
‘We saw him with Björn and Harpa at the demonstrations in January.’
‘Which proves nothing.’
‘All right,’ said Magnus. He had been reluctant to make the phone call in the first place. If Baldur didn’t want to respond to it, there was nothing much more Magnus could do.
Perhaps Vigdís would get something out of the kid.
Sophie sat at the back of the small lecture theatre. European Human Rights. She had no idea what the lecturer was saying, her concentration had wandered within the first minute.
The seat next to her was empty. It was usually where Zak sat, but Zak was… Zak was where, exactly? She had no idea.
She had scarcely slept all night. She had called his mobile and texted him at regular intervals without reply, and then, first thing in the morning, she had called his home number.
His mother had answered. To the polite question ‘how are you?’ the woman had answered, ‘fine’. She wasn’t supposed to be fine, she was supposed to be dying, but maybe she was just being polite in return. But when Sophie had asked to speak to Ísak, she was told he had disappeared on a camping trip.
Then his mother had asked whether there was anything wrong with Ísak, and Sophie had answered, truthfully, ‘I don’t know.’
Sophie was worried about what Josh had said the night before about Zak asking about Julian Lister’s holiday arrangements. That was very strange: she could think of no plausible explanation. She knew that Zak hadn’t actually shot the ex-Chancellor himself, he was at home in London on Sunday. Although he had gone to church that day. And Sophie knew for a fact that Zak didn’t believe in God.
Something was up. All her instincts were screaming at her that something was up.
But what? Sophie couldn’t really believe that Zak was a terrorist, or part of a conspiracy of terrorists. In which case why not call the police with her suspicions? Let them clear him. She had the card that the policewoman had left Zak in her jeans pocket.
Because it would be disloyal, that was why. She would never be able to look Zak in the eye again.
Josh was sitting at the front of the lecture theatre, typing away on his laptop. Really taking notes, probably, he didn’t look like a Facebook surfing type.
He was a bright guy, if a little overenthusiastic. Sophie scarcely knew him – she remembered some perceptive questions he had asked in that class, and some that were a little out there.
She had an idea.
When, finally, the lecture finished, Sophie was one of the first through the exit, which was at the back of the theatre by her seat. She loitered, waiting to pounce. Josh was the third to last out.
‘Josh!’
‘Oh, hi. Sophie, isn’t it?’ He shrank back a little.
‘Can I have a quick chat about something?’
‘If it’s about what I said about your boyfriend last night, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I’m sure I was wrong.’
‘It is about that,’ said Sophie. ‘And quite frankly I don’t know whether you are wrong or right. But, well, if Zak really did ask you the questions you say he did about Lister, then I think you should tell the police.’
‘I’m sure he didn’t mean anything,’ said Josh.
‘Listen to me, Josh,’ Sophie said, looking straight into his eyes. ‘I’m not at all sure of that. Do you understand me? You might be right, I just don’t know. Here’s the number of a policewoman who interviewed Zak a couple of days ago. If you