Far North - Michael Ridpath [148]
They had almost reached Helgafell when Magnus’s phone rang. Baldur.
‘Árni has spotted Einar. He has just returned home.’
‘Has he arrested him?’
‘We’re calling in the Viking Squad. Einar is probably armed.’
‘Now you’re talking,’ said Magnus. ‘I could have used some of their help an hour ago.’
‘Any luck on the next victim?’
Magnus glanced at the woman next to him. She was staring out of the window at the little hill of Helgafell coming ever closer, her hand to her mouth, her face stricken with anguish.
‘Harpa doesn’t know. Ísak is still unconscious so he hasn’t talked.’ Magnus was about to add that they wouldn’t hear anything more from Björn, but with Harpa listening he decided not to.
‘Is Ísak going to make it?’
‘You never know with head injuries, do you?’
‘Well, at least we know where Einar is. He’s unlikely to do much damage while he is at home, and we’ll grab him as soon as he tries to leave.’
‘If he’s the only other conspirator,’ said Magnus.
‘Do you think there’s another one?’ said Baldur.
‘I don’t know. We mustn’t assume that there isn’t. Let me know when you have arrested Einar.’
Magnus thought through the possibility. Had it been Einar who had shot Óskar and Julian Lister? Or someone else?
‘Harpa?’
‘Yes?’
‘Does your father speak English?’
‘Not really. Just a few words. Why?’
So that meant he wouldn’t be able to make his own preparations for the shootings in France or England.
‘Has he been away over the last couple of weeks?’ Magnus asked, as gently as he could.
Harpa stared away from him, out of the car window, at the new little houses on the outskirts of Stykkishólmur. ‘Yes,’ she said, barely audibly. ‘He went fly-fishing. Twice.’
‘Does he go hunting as well as fly-fishing?’
She nodded, still not meeting his eye. ‘He used to go reindeer hunting in the highlands when he was a bit younger and he could afford it.’
Reindeer were not indigenous to Iceland, but they had been introduced in the eighteenth century and now roamed wild over parts of the interior. Where they were hunted. With rifles.
‘Does he have a gun at home?’ Magnus asked.
Harpa nodded. ‘I’m sure he has a licence.’
Magnus called Baldur back and told him. The Viking Squad was a good precaution.
‘I can’t believe Dad is doing this,’ Harpa said. ‘I mean, I know he hates the bankers. He lost all his savings in Ódinsbanki. And he likes to bear grudges. But the worst thing is I think he did it for me.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He thought the bankers had ruined my life. Gabríel Örn. Óskar. He should have blamed me for suggesting that he put his savings into Ódinsbanki shares, but he seems to have blamed them for deceiving me.’
‘But that’s true, isn’t it?’ Magnus said. ‘They did.’
‘Yes, but I didn’t ask him to do it, did I?’ Tears were running down her cheeks now. ‘Björn must have suggested it. Dad and Björn. I knew they liked each other; they used to meet up at the Kaffivagninn sometimes. But I had no idea what they were talking about. None.’
Magnus tried to give her a comforting smile. He did feel sorry for her. The two people she loved most in the world had turned out to be murderers. And she had had no warning.
She tried to smile back. ‘You know,’ she said, wiping her cheeks, ‘from what Björn was saying, I’m not sure my father, or whoever, is going to shoot someone.’
‘What do you mean?’ Magnus asked.
‘Björn was vague about the timing. Yet he was expecting a text when everything was ready. What did he mean by “ready”?’
‘I get you,’ said Magnus. He followed Harpa’s idea through. It could be that there was someone else. Unlikely but possible. Or Einar could have found a spot where he was watching a target and waiting for the ideal time to shoot. In which case, why would he go back home?
What threat was there that would apply while a killer was safe and sound in his own living room?
Poison? No. A bomb?
A bomb.
If there was a bomb primed and ready somewhere in Reykjavík they really were in trouble. They had no clue which of the Outvaders was the intended