Far North - Michael Ridpath [130]
‘Thanks, Sharon.’
So it was Björn who went to Normandy. Via Amsterdam, probably. Hired a motorcycle there, or stole one. Or borrowed one. Got hold of a rifle. Drove to Normandy and buried it.
And it had been Ísak who had done similar legwork in London. Located Óskar’s address. Perhaps got hold of the gun, the motorbike.
But for whom? Neither of them had shot anybody. Nor had Sindri: he was in Iceland the whole time. There was someone else. Someone who could use a gun, who wasn’t afraid of killing, but who wasn’t able to make his own preparations. Perhaps wasn’t well travelled enough. Perhaps didn’t speak English.
Who could it be? Magnus had no idea.
It should be straightforward to check whether Björn flew to Amsterdam the previous week, though.
Magnus had to see Baldur right away. He hurried out of the café and into the police headquarters.
‘Where’s Baldur?’ he asked Vigdís.
‘With the Commissioner. I think Thorkell is in there too. They are discussing whether to arrest Björn and Sindri.’
‘I’ve got to see him.’
‘I don’t know how long he’ll be.’
‘Then I’ll interrupt him. Árni, check and see whether Björn was on any flight to Amsterdam last Thursday and Friday, and if he came back to Reykjavík on Saturday.’
‘What’s happened?’
‘He’s the guy the farmer saw the day before Lister was shot. The Dutch guy. Except he wasn’t Dutch, he had Icelandic coins in his pocket. Vigdís, come with me. I may need your help.’
Magnus noticed a thin file on his desk. He glanced at it. The pathologist’s report on Benedikt Jóhannesson’s murder. He left it there and headed for the door.
The Commissioner’s office was only a couple of hundred metres away, over a busy intersection in a modern building on the road that overlooked the bay. On the way, Magnus told Vigdís more about Sharon’s call.
They were dodging through the traffic when Magnus felt his phone vibrate. He took a quick look. Sharon Piper.
‘Hi, Sharon.’
‘Things are really hotting up. Just got a call from a student at the LSE, a friend of Ísak’s. This student was a research assistant for a junior treasury minister over the summer. Anyway, Ísak asked him over the summer if he knew where Julian Lister went on holiday. The student thought it a little strange at the time, but he told him about the place in Normandy.’
‘Jeez. Are you arresting Ísak?’
‘I expect so. Haven’t told SO15 yet, I thought I’d give you a heads-up first. They are going to go crazy over there. Oh, and we finally got the ID through from the French woman in India. It was Ísak she saw asking for Óskar’s address.’
‘Big surprise. Thanks, Sharon. Before you go, I’ve been thinking. Seems to me that Ísak and Björn were both acting as point men for someone else. The guy who actually pulled the trigger. Ísak in Kensington and Björn in Normandy.’
‘Who’s the guy?’
‘No idea. But I bet he’s an Icelander. And I’d guess one who doesn’t speak English.’
‘Worth a thought. I’ve got to go now, Magnus.’
Magnus hung up and ran into the Commissioner’s office building. The Commissioner’s office itself was guarded by a secretary. As she picked up the phone to tell her boss about Magnus, he pushed past her and burst in, Vigdís trailing behind.
There were four people in the office: Baldur, Thorkell, the Police Commissioner and a silver-haired man whom Magnus recognized as the Prosecutor, the senior lawyer within the Police Department.
Snorri Gudmundsson glared at Magnus as he entered. ‘What the hell do you think you are doing?’
‘I’ve had a call from London. Björn Helgason has been identified in Normandy the day before Julian Lister was shot. And Ísak Samúelsson asked an intern who worked in the British treasury about Lister’s vacation plans. I’m sorry to barge in, but I thought you ought to know before the British police call. Or the French.’
Snorri breathed in. Thought for a moment. ‘Is it a firm ID of Björn?’
‘Not yet. But it will be once we send a photograph.’
‘You can’t be sure of that,’ said Baldur.
Snorri raised his hand to quieten his inspector. ‘This changes things. Baldur,