Far North - Michael Ridpath [140]
Her plan was to clamber up the side of the valley and over the top to the road on the other side and then flag down the first car that came past. Anyone would stop immediately for a woman standing in the middle of the road with her hands tied.
But first Björn had to leave the hut again. She had no idea when that would be, and she was afraid to ask him in case he suspected something.
She thought about what she would tell the police. It would be good to give them the names of the next victim and the assassin. Björn had been reluctant to tell her: she would see what she could do about that.
‘So when you have dealt with the next name on your list, will you let me go?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Björn. He looked as if he was pleased with the question. ‘It depends. On you.’
‘Hmm.’ Harpa let the silence hang there. She knew that Björn wanted to believe that she could be persuaded to agree to keep quiet for a few days. ‘And when will that be?’ she asked him.
‘I can’t say.’
‘Today? Tonight? Tomorrow? Next week?’
‘This afternoon, possibly. Probably this evening. Almost definitely tomorrow morning.’
‘How will you know?’
‘A text.’
‘Which is why you need to go and make your phone calls?’
‘Once I have heard everything is ready, then all I will have to do is wait for the text.’
‘From?’
Björn shook his head. ‘ I can’t tell you, Harpa.’
‘OK. At least tell me who the target is.’
Björn shook his head. Harpa could see that his earlier pleasure in her talking to him was waning.
‘I don’t see why you won’t. After all there’s nothing I can do about it, is there? You may as well tell me now.’
‘I’ll tell you when it’s done.’ Björn’s voice was firm.
Harpa didn’t want to push him any more in case he realized what she was planning. ‘Suit yourself,’ she said.
They were silent for five, maybe ten minutes. Through the window, Harpa watched as the clouds swirled across the valley, bringing thick fog one moment and sunshine the next.
Fog would be good for evading Björn. But it would make it very easy to get lost on the mountain. She would just have to seize her opportunity whenever it came.
Björn checked his watch. ‘I’m going to go and check for that text.’
Harpa grunted.
Björn glanced at Harpa’s ankles and wrists and left the hut. A few seconds later Harpa heard the engine of his pickup starting up and the sound of the vehicle bumping down towards the track.
She bent down and attacked the knot. It wasn’t coming, damn it! And she was sure she had nearly untied it.
Slow down, Harpa. She stopped, took a couple of breaths, examined the knot, thought about it, tugged the rope here, pushed there.
She was free!
She scanned the room for her phone, or a knife, but couldn’t see either. No time to mess about. She pulled open the door with her bound hands and ran outside.
Ísak saw Björn leave the hut. His heart rate quickened as he watched the pickup clatter its way down to the track, and then up the pass. A patch of cloud drifted down the valley, fingers of moisture stretching ahead of it as it clutched at the rocks and the boulders, silently hauling itself forward. The head of the pass was obscured. Excellent. He would wait until Björn’s pickup disappeared into the mist before making his move.
The vehicle was swallowed up by the cloud. Ísak hesitated. Gripped the knife in his gloved hand and set off towards the hut. He had barely gone five metres when he heard the door open again, and a moment later he saw Harpa rushing down the knoll towards the stream at the floor of the valley.
She was escaping! He broke into a run. She hadn’t seen him yet. He tried to run softly so as not to scare her. The closer he could get the better. Then one final sprint.
But Harpa was running as fast as she could already. She tore down the side of the knoll,