Far North - Michael Ridpath [35]
How could she live her life never being able to look her son in the eye?
She wanted to throw back the kitchen chair and scream. But she didn’t move. Didn’t move a muscle. Didn’t even raise the cup of cold coffee in front of her to her lips.
Where the hell was Björn?
She stared out into the gathering darkness, at Gabríel Örn lying there on the ground in the car park just off Hverfisgata, blood from his skull mingling with dirt in the slush.
She heard her own screams.
‘Shush, Harpa, shush.’ Björn’s voice was calm, and authoritative. Harpa stopped screaming. She sobbed instead.
He crouched down beside Gabríel. ‘Is he dead?’ Harpa whispered.
Björn frowned. By the way he moved his fingers around Gabríel’s throat, pressing on one spot and then another, Harpa could tell that he couldn’t find a pulse.
Harpa pulled out her phone. ‘I’ll call an ambulance.’
‘No!’ Björn instructed her, his voice firm. ‘No. He’s dead. There’s no point in calling an ambulance for a dead person. We’ll all end up in jail.’
‘Let’s get out of here,’ said Frikki.
‘No. Wait! Let me think,’ Björn said. ‘We need a story.’
‘No one will know it was us,’ said Sindri. ‘Let’s just go.’
‘They’ll know Harpa called him just before he came out,’ Björn said. ‘Phone records. The police will interview her. Perhaps someone was with him, someone who knows he was going to meet her.’
‘Don’t tell them anything, Harpa,’ Frikki said.
‘Oh, God,’ said Harpa. She knew she would tell the police everything.
‘Quiet!’ Björn urged. ‘Let’s calm down. We need a story. An alibi for everyone. First let’s get him out of the way. And try not to get his blood on your clothes.’
Sindri, Frikki and Björn dragged Gabríel into the small car park and laid him between two parked cars.
‘Harpa needs to go to B5,’ Ísak said. The others looked at him. ‘She needs to go to B5 right away. She needs to make a fuss about something so they remember that she is there. Start an argument with someone. Me perhaps. There is no connection between us, the police won’t suspect anything.’
‘But where was she before?’ Sindri asked.
‘With me,’ Björn said. ‘We met at the demonstration. She came back with me to my brother’s place. Things went wrong: she called her old boyfriend, wanted to see him.’
‘She waited at the bar for him and he never came,’ Ísak said.
‘What are we going to do with the body?’ Sindri asked.
‘I can move it somewhere,’ said Björn.
‘Fake a suicide,’ said Ísak. ‘I don’t know, a fall? Hang him somewhere?’
‘That’s horrible,’ Harpa said. ‘I think I am going to be sick.’
‘I’ll take him down to the sea for a swim,’ said Björn. ‘Sindri, you can help me. OK, give me your phone number, Harpa. You go to B5 with Ísak, but make sure you arrive separately. Make a fuss, but try not to get thrown out; we need you there as long as possible. I’ll get rid of the body now and call you in an hour or two. Then you can come back to my brother’s place with me. We can go through the details of your story then.’
Harpa nodded. She pulled herself together and set off for Bankastraeti and the bar, Ísak following by a different route.
Even though the plan was made up on the spot and there were plenty of holes in it, it worked. Harpa could never have thought of it. It took Ísak’s brains and Björn’s calm.
She had coped with the police questioning well. If it hadn’t been for Björn she would have cracked. He gave her the strength and determination to stick with her story. And now she was going to have to go through it all again, but this time she wasn’t sure she would be able to do as good a job.
She heard a motorbike approaching fast along Nordurströnd. She heard it come to a stop outside the house.
Her heart leapt. She ran out of the house and threw herself into the arms of the driver even before he had a chance to take his helmet off.
‘Oh, Björn, I’m so glad you are here.’ She began to sob.
He slipped off the helmet and stroked her hair. ‘There, there, Harpa. It’s all going to be OK.’
She pulled back. ‘It’s not going to be