Far North - Michael Ridpath [151]
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
THERE WAS A bomb under Ólafur’s car. Árni checked it himself, crawling under the chassis. Probably a dumb move, but he had to do something to shut up his former Prime Minister. The Explosive Ordnance Disposal Unit from the coastguard was called in. More used to dealing with unexploded mines from the Second World War, it took them a while to locate their two experts who were trained to deal with car bombs. One was on holiday, and the other one turned out to be in one of the hot tubs at the Laugardalur pool.
In the end the expert played it safe and went for a controlled explosion. Wrought havoc with the ex-Prime Minister’s garden, and scared the wits out of the little girl next door.
The Viking Squad, when it eventually assembled, burst into Harpa’s parents’ house and arrested Einar watching the golf on TV. A forensics team was poring over his garage looking for signs of bomb-making, and finding them.
In Stykkishólmur police station, Magnus prepared to drive back to Reykjavík. Before he left he brought a cup of coffee in to the interview room where Harpa was waiting. The plan was to drive her down to Reykjavík where she would be formally interviewed at police headquarters. Uniformed officers would escort her.
‘Thanks,’ Harpa said, accepting the coffee.
‘And thank you for stopping Ísak. I meant to ask you, how did you get down there so fast?’
‘Jumped. Just like you.’ She smiled. ‘I seemed to do myself less damage, though. How is Ísak? Is he going to live?’
‘He’s in intensive care in hospital. They are keeping him unconscious and giving him drugs to prevent the brain swelling, apparently. They can’t be sure, but the chances are good that he will make a full recovery. Unfortunately.’
‘You say that, Magnús, but I’m glad. I don’t want to have anyone else’s death on my conscience.’
Magnus was going to argue with her, but stopped himself. He sipped his coffee.
‘What happens now?’ Harpa asked. ‘Do I go to jail?’
‘Probably,’ said Magnus. ‘You may be lucky, with a good lawyer. This is Iceland, not Texas.’
‘I’m not sure I can face it.’
‘You’ve had a tough time,’ said Magnus. ‘A really tough time. Most other people would have cracked long ago.’
Harpa smiled, weakly. ‘I think I’m not far off it.’
‘I’m sure you’re not. Just think of Markús. Keep on thinking of Markús. Hold it together for his sake.’
‘Yeah,’ said Harpa. ‘Yeah.’
Magnus drained his cup. ‘Despite everything, he’s lucky to have you as his mother. If you hold it together, he’ll grow up into a fine boy. I’m sure he will.’
Harpa struggled to control her tears. ‘Thanks,’ she mouthed so quietly Magnus could barely hear it.
The sun was sinking slowly towards the western ocean, brushing the broad shoulder of Bjarnarhöfn Fell as it dropped. Magnus was glad to be alone as he started the drive back to Reykjavík, savouring the two hour interlude between the hubbub of Stykkishólmur police station and police headquarters.
His phone rang. Magnus didn’t recognize the number, and almost didn’t answer. After the third ring he decided he had better pick it up.
‘Magnús.’
‘Hello, Magnús, it’s Snorri here.’
Magnus felt himself straightening in the driver’s seat. The Big Salmon himself.
‘Hello, Snorri.’
‘I’m calling to apologize. You were right all along. We should have listened to you.’
‘It was a difficult call,’ Magnus said. ‘I never had the evidence.’
‘It was a good call. I guess that’s why we have you here. And why we want you to stay.’
‘Thank you,’ said Magnus. ‘And Snorri?’
‘Yes.’
‘Remember these guys are criminals, not terrorists.’
Snorri laughed. ‘I’ll remember that. I’ll just have to convince everyone else of it.’
Magnus smiled as he disconnected the phone. The apology was appreciated. Policemen didn’t like to apologize, in his experience, especially important ones.
He was staying in Iceland. So be it.
But what about Ingileif? She would have called Svala by now. Taken her decision. Perhaps he should have stayed on the phone with her just a minute longer. Told her to wait, at least until he had warned Ólafur Tómasson.
But he hadn