Far North - Michael Ridpath [89]
‘He was just talking big,’ said Harpa. ‘He was half-drunk. We all were. In fact you were talking loudest of the lot.’
‘I know,’ said Frikki.
‘And anyway, those people were shot abroad, weren’t they? England, France.’
‘It wouldn’t take long to fly there and back,’ Magda said. ‘A fisherman could do it when he said he was out at sea. Go to Keflavík. London or Paris. No problem.’
‘That’s absurd. I know Björn didn’t do that.’
Magda shrugged. There was silence for a moment.
Frikki flinched as he received another kick under the table. Harpa glanced at the Polish girl. She had an open, honest face. Harpa didn’t trust her.
Frikki spoke. ‘The thing is, Harpa. I’m thinking about going to the police.’
‘What! Why would you do that?’
‘Well. Anonymously perhaps. But if all these people are being killed, then who’s to say it will stop now?’
‘No one. But it’s got nothing to do with us.’
‘It has. Believe me, I feel guilty already. If I don’t do something to stop them…’
‘You’re making a massive assumption here,’ Harpa said. ‘It would be one thing if we knew that Sindri or one of the others had killed these people, but we don’t. All we know is that you and I killed someone. And I feel quite strongly we should keep quiet about that.’
Frikki took a deep breath. ‘I wanted to warn you first.’
Harpa turned to the Polish woman.
‘Magda, is it?’
Magda nodded.
‘Listen. I know you think you are Frikki’s conscience, but this isn’t up to you. He’s a good kid. He doesn’t deserve to go to prison for years, which he will do. Maybe I do deserve to be locked up, but I have a three-year-old son. And the others helped us, me and Frikki, cover everything up. Björn in particular helped us. He shouldn’t go to jail.’
‘But we have a duty to stop any more people being murdered,’ Magda said.
‘We don’t know why these people were murdered! We don’t know there is a connection. Óskar and Lister weren’t even in Iceland. We just keep quiet, Frikki, do you understand me?’ Harpa was surprised by the authority she heard in her own voice. ‘And we don’t become friends. We keep well clear of each other. Otherwise we both wind up in jail and achieve nothing. Do you agree? Frikki, do you agree?’
Frikki glanced at Magda who was frowning. Harpa could see how torn she was, between doing what she thought was the right thing, and sending the boy she loved to jail. But it wasn’t up to her. It was up to Harpa and Frikki.
‘Frikki, you’ll never forget what happened,’ Harpa said. ‘But you are still young. You’re not a murderer, you didn’t mean to kill Gabríel Örn. You can still turn your life around. Focus on that.’
Frikki glanced at Magda. She closed her eyes and nodded. ‘OK,’ Frikki said. ‘OK.’
*
The moment Magnus saw Sindri he remembered where he recognized him from.
Oh, shit.
He wished he had brought Árni along, rather than Vigdís. This could get embarrassing, and Árni was an easier person to be embarrassed in front of.
But Sindri didn’t recognize him. He was full of indignation at being harassed by police in his own home. Magnus could tell that Sindri wasn’t surprised by the visit. On the other hand Sindri was probably used to unannounced visits by the police.
The flat was a dump, and smelled faintly of marijuana, stale tobacco and rotten food. Sindri reluctantly led them into the living room. There was a pile of dirty plates by the sink in the kitchen alcove. A computer in one corner was surrounded by paper on the desk and on the floor. Sindri was obviously working on something which involved a lot of pages.
Sindri sat down at the dining table and folded his arms. ‘All right, what do you want?’ he said. His deep voice was defiant, but there was something friendly about his puffy eyes that he couldn’t quite hide.
Magnus glanced up at the big painting on the wall by the table. ‘Did you do that?’ he asked.
‘I did.’
‘Is it Bjartur of Summerhouses?’
‘Amazing. A cop who reads.’
‘Independent People is a good book.’
‘It’s a great book. Everyone in Iceland should be forced to read