Far North - Michael Ridpath [56]
‘That was just a rumour,’ said Harpa. ‘There was nothing in it. María was jealous, that’s all. She’s imagining it.’
Magnus didn’t say anything.
‘What?’ said Harpa. ‘What is it? Don’t you believe me? I wouldn’t be so stupid as to have an affair with the boss.’
Magnus relaxed and smiled. ‘No, of course not. You got a picture of your son, by the way?’
‘Yes,’ said Harpa. ‘On my phone.’ She pulled out her phone and began searching for the photo. Then she stopped suddenly, and made to put the phone away. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘I made a mistake. I don’t have a picture of him.’
‘Come on, Harpa,’ said Magnus. ‘You can’t hide what he looks like from us. Markús is his name, right? Just show us.’
Harpa fiddled with the buttons on her phone and passed across a picture of a little boy smiling next to a football on a beach of black sand.
Magnus took a photograph out of his pocket and laid it next to the phone. Despite the differences in age, it was quite clear that Óskar Gunnarsson and Markús Hörpuson were related. The same cleft chin. The same big brown eyes.
Harpa’s shoulders sagged.
‘Did Óskar know?’ Magnus asked.
Harpa shook her head. ‘I never told him. I made sure he never met Markús. I didn’t want him to know.’
‘Why not?’
‘It really was only one night. I was drunk. So was he. I’m not trying to say he forced himself on me or anything, but it was a mistake. We never mentioned it again. The first couple of times we met in a business situation, it was awkward, but then we both succeeded in ignoring what had happened and so things became easier. Until I realized I was pregnant, of course.’
‘Did he suspect he was the father?’
‘He might have done; we never spoke about it. We really didn’t know each other that well, he had no idea what my sex life was like. In fact it wasn’t that exciting, but he didn’t know that.’
‘But when you lost your job, you weren’t tempted to ask Óskar for money?’ Magnus asked.
‘No,’ said Harpa. ‘I didn’t want Markús to have Óskar for a father, however rich he was. We had no connection. And I suppose I didn’t want to share my son with a man I barely knew.’ She leaned forward. ‘Please don’t tell anyone about this. I don’t want Óskar’s parents to know they are grandparents. It may sound awful, but I don’t want to introduce people I don’t know into Markús’s life.’
‘I won’t tell them for now,’ Magnus said. ‘I can’t make any promises about later. That will depend on what this investigation turns up.’
‘It won’t turn up anything,’ said Harpa, defiantly.
‘In that case you have nothing to worry about,’ said Magnus.
‘You were fired from Ódinsbanki, weren’t you?’ asked Sharon.
‘Yes,’ said Harpa.
‘Did you hold Óskar responsible?’
‘No. Not directly.’
‘What do you mean, not directly?’
‘Well, it was him who led the expansion of the bank. He grew it too fast, borrowed too much money from the bond markets. That’s why it went bust eventually, and why I lost my job.’
‘So who did you hold directly responsible?’ Magnus asked.
Harpa’s eyes held his. She then closed her own. ‘Oh, God, here we go.’
‘Gabríel Örn?’
Harpa nodded. ‘I’ve told you that.’
Magnus glanced at Sharon. It was too early to do a full-blown interview with Harpa. Apart from anything else, such interviews had to be in Icelandic if they were going to provide admissible evidence. Also Baldur would disapprove. But there was one last question he had to ask. ‘Harpa, where were you on the night Óskar was killed?’
Harpa flinched. ‘He was killed in London, wasn’t he?’
Magnus nodded.
‘Well, I was in Iceland.’
‘Can you prove it?’
‘Yes, of course. Um, I came in to work here early the following morning. You can check with Dísa if you want.’
Three-quarters of an hour later, Magnus pulled up outside the airport terminal.
‘Thank you for introducing me to Harpa,’ Sharon said. ‘I appreciate the difficulty.’
‘Her alibi was good for that night,’ said Magnus. ‘But I do think there is some link. I just thought you should know what her story is. In case something turns up your end.’
‘Óskar