‘Damn!’ Magnus was focused on the next victim. Ingólfur Arnarson, whoever that was, did not have long to live, unless they figured something out. He had an idea. ‘Páll?’
‘Yes?’
‘See if you can find Björn’s phone. Then check “last number called”.’
‘Roger.’
Magnus straightened up as he waited for Páll to get back to him. The colour had drained from Harpa’s face, but her eyes were dry.
‘I’m sorry,’ Magnus said.
‘I’m OK,’ Harpa said. ‘It will probably hit me soon. But in the hut back there I realized what Björn was doing was wrong. He killed other people. He brought this on himself.’
The radio crackled into life. ‘Magnús?’
‘Yes?’
‘I tried redial. It didn’t just have the number it had the name of the contact.’
‘And who was it?’
‘Einar.’
Behind Magnus, Harpa let out a cry. ‘No! No, no, no, no, no!’ There was pain and desperation in her voice. ‘Don’t believe him, Magnús. He must have made a mistake!’
But Magnus knew Páll had got it right. And so, he thought, did Harpa.
CHAPTER FORTY
ÁRNI WAS DRIVING back to Reykjavík from Hafnarfjördur, having spoken to both of Ísak’s parents and learned nothing. They were as mystified as the police as to their son’s whereabouts. The mother especially had sensed that something was seriously wrong, but Ísak had been totally uncommunicative.
Árni was almost back at police headquarters on Hverfisgata when his phone rang. It was Baldur. ‘Árni, get over to Seltjarnarnes right away. We know who the assassin is. Harpa’s father. Einar.’
‘I’m on my way.’
‘OK. Don’t make an arrest until the uniformed back-up is there.’
‘What am I arresting him for?’
‘The murder of Óskar Gunnarsson. We’ll start with that and work up from there.’
Blue-light time. It took Árni longer than he would have liked to fix it to the roof of his unmarked Skoda, but then he was off. He put his foot down and sped through the Reykjavík traffic, a tense grin on his face. He swerved as he almost caught a motorbike he hadn’t seen in the oncoming lane. He checked the mirror. The guy had come to a stop but hadn’t actually fallen off.
He slowed down as he approached the Bakkavör turn-off. It was lucky he did, because he caught sight of Einar stepping out of his Freelander and going into his house.
Árni slowed to a stop, just as two patrol cars swerved into the road behind him, sirens off, fortunately. Árni waved them down.
‘The suspect has just gone into his house! Come on!’
‘Hold on a moment.’ One of the officers was on the radio. ‘They want us to hold off. They think he’s armed. We wait for the Viking Squad.’
So Árni waited in his car fifty metres along from Einar’s house. He had the front door covered: there was no way Einar could leave without Árni spotting him. The two patrol cars were joined by another one, and they retreated around the corner to lurk.
Everyone was waiting for the Viking Squad, Reykjavík’s SWAT team made up of volunteer officers from across the Metropolitan Police. Árni was disappointed not to make the arrest himself, but it would be cool to see the SWAT team in action.
Then his phone rang. It was Baldur. ‘Árni? I want you back at the station.’
‘But Einar-’
‘The Viking Squad will arrest him as soon as they get there. I want you back here now. We need to figure out who the next target is. Róbert will relieve you.’
Árni saw his colleague approaching in another unmarked Skoda. Reluctantly, Árni turned his own car around and headed back to the station.
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 victim.