Hafsteinn folded his arms and shook his head. ‘No.’
Dísa looked down at her thumbs and bit a nail.
‘Dísa?’ Magnus said gently.
‘Gunni came around here this morning after you left,’ said Dísa. ‘He said he wanted to talk about Thomocoin. We went for a walk.’
Magnus waited. Hafsteinn glared at his granddaughter.
‘He told me he was afraid there would never be an exchange. He said he had told Mum this and that was why she went to Reykjavík to see Dad. To ask him about Thomocoin.’
‘Was Gunni angry?’
‘He is now,’ said Dísa. ‘Very angry.’
Magnus and Árni returned to the police station in Akureyri, where they briefed Ólafur. Ólafur decided to bring Gunni in for questioning the following morning and search his house and computer.
Afterwards, Árni brought Magnus back home for supper.
Árni’s family was chaotic. He had two extremely naughty little daughters, who ran him and his wife ragged. Neither seemed to mind. His wife, a small, round woman named Greta with a long dark fringe, seemed, if anything, to egg them on.
Supper was feeding time at the zoo, pasta flying and tomato sauce splattered everywhere. But the pasta was delicious and they were all having fun. Once Magnus had overcome the temptation to arrest the lot of them for insurrection and riot, he enjoyed himself too.
Eventually, Greta took the kids upstairs for a noisy bath time and stories.
Árni and Magnus stuffed plates into the dishwasher. ‘They’ll be at least an hour,’ said Árni. ‘Would you like a Scotch?’
Árni had a decent Macallan and poured them both a glass.
‘A good day’s work,’ said Árni.
‘It was,’ Magnus agreed. ‘We’ll see what Gunni has to say for himself tomorrow.’
Magnus’s phone buzzed in his pocket. ‘Excuse me,’ he said as he examined the screen.
He smiled.
‘Who is it?’ said Árni.
Magnus glanced at him. ‘Ingileif.’
‘Ingileif? I didn’t know you were still seeing her?’
‘Haven’t seen her for three years. But I asked her if I could meet Ási again, and she said yes. Haven’t seen him for three years, either. He’ll be seven now.’
‘Why wouldn’t she let you see him?’
‘She has her own family now. She thought me seeing him would disrupt it. I guess she has a point. I don’t know. I’m just glad I’m getting to see him. I don’t know why it’s so important to me.’
‘Oh, I do,’ said Árni. ‘I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t see my girls.’
‘You’ve done well, Árni. I like Greta.’
‘And she likes you, Magnús, despite all I’ve told he about you.’
Magnus grinned as he sipped his whisky. It was a shame Árni had moved to Akureyri.
‘I take it you are still with Eygló, then?’
Magnus hesitated. ‘Yes.’ He wasn’t sure whether Árni picked up on the hesitation.
‘Now you two really were made for each other. I can imagine the conversations about mud in saga times you must have.’
‘It’s fascinating stuff, Árni.’
‘I’ll bet.’
Suddenly, Magnus wanted to ask Árni his advice. Árni knew how to find a woman, start a family, run around after little kids. Be happy.
Magnus didn’t. But it wasn’t that he didn’t know the answer that was stopping him. He didn’t know the question.
He loved Eygló, he thought. He certainly liked her. He respected her. He was attracted to her. He liked spending time with her. He liked her son.
So what was the damn problem?
Ingileif was the damn problem. Or Ási. Or both of them.
Which was goddamned stupid. They weren’t his family. Ingileif had kept Ási’s very existence from him for four years. If there was a family, it was Ingileif, Ási and her husband Hannes, and Magnus had no part of it.
There was another family beckoning: Eygló and Bjarki.
Why couldn’t he just accept that? Just say yes. Marry Eygló. Move in. Have another kid.
Because somehow that would be dishonest.
How? Why?
Magnus didn’t want to be dishonest with anyone, let alone Eygló.
‘Are you OK, Magnús?’
Magnus finished his whisky. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. I ought to head back to my hotel now. Thanks for dinner and the whisky.’
As soon as he got back to his hotel room, he sent Ingileif a text explaining he would love to see Ási but he might not be back in Reykjavík for a few days.
He fell asleep waiting for a response.
Nineteen
Magnus had never conducted an interview with Ólafur before. It was an important one; Gunni was firmly in the number-one-suspect slot. Though technically he was not yet a suspect but a witness, which under Icelandic law meant he didn’t have the right to a lawyer. At least not yet.
The three of them were in the interview room in the Dalvík police station. After the morning briefing, two constables had gone to pick up Gunni. While Gunni was being interviewed, Árni and two uniformed officers were searching his house and seizing his computer.
They had agreed that Magnus would start the interview in a low-key way, and Ólafur would pile on the pressure when he judged the time right.
Magnus started with silence, while he sized up the man opposite him. Gunni was short, compact, powerful, his body tense with barely contained energy. He seemed impatient and angry rather than anxious. Magnus was expecting bluster, maybe even threats — Gunni was a big man in the area and would have big friends.
Gunni glanced from one detective to the other. ‘Well?’ he said, raising thick grey eyebrows.
Magnus paused before speaking. ‘Tell me about Thomocoin, Gunni.’
‘You tell me about Thomocoin,’ said Gunni. ‘Is it a fraud? Are you investigating it? You should, you know.’
Magnus smiled thinly. ‘No. We are investing Helga Hafsteinsdóttir’s murder, and we think Thomocoin may have something to do with it.’
‘And how is that?’
Magnus ignored the question. ‘Have you invested in Thomocoin, Gunni?’ he asked.
‘I have.’
‘How much?’
‘A lot.’
Magnus raised his eyebrows
Gunni sighed and briefly lowered his eyes, as a hint of shame passed through them. ‘I’ve invested over three hundred million krónur.’
‘And how much is that worth now?’
‘According to Thomocoin’s website, it’s supposed to be worth just over five million dollars. So it’s up seventy per cent. If you believe the website.’
‘And you don’t?’
Gunni hesitated. ‘I’m not sure,’ he admitted.
‘I see. Who first told you about Thomocoin?’
‘Helga.’ Gunni described how Helga had enthused about the cryptocurrency. At first, he hadn’t invested himself, but after a year or so, during which time the price had risen steadily and Helga had boasted of her own profits, he had bought some. He had started off small, ten thousand dollars’ worth, but had soon invested more. He had listened to Helga, read the information, watched the videos, done his research. He had believed in it.
‘Did you lend any money to Helga during this time?’
‘Yes, I did. In 2017, maybe early 2018. She needed it to keep the farm afloat.’
‘How much did you lend her?’
‘Twenty million krónur.’
Magnus whistled. ‘That’s a lot of money.’
‘It certainly is,’ said Gunni. ‘But I knew she had at least that much in Thomocoin, so she would be able to repay me.’
‘You must have trusted her?’
‘I do. I did.’
Magnus wasn’t sure whether Gunni no longer trusted Helga just because she was dead, or because she had let him down.