‘You can decide whether or not you believe me,’ she said, once she had finished her tale, ‘but I don’t think Felix has killed anyone. I don’t think he could, don’t believe he’s capable of it.’
‘Who does he think shot Eyvindur, then?’
‘Felix says he doesn’t know.’
‘A soldier?’
‘Well, of course Felix was upset and fled the scene straight away, but he got the impression that whoever did it had acted with ruthless efficiency, like a soldier or a trained assassin. The killer hadn’t hesitated. That’s why he’s inclined to believe it was a foreigner rather than an Icelander, though he says he can’t be sure.’
‘Why’s he scared that something will happen to him?’ asked Flóvent. ‘What’s he frightened of?’
‘Isn’t it obvious?’
‘No.’
‘Felix is convinced that Eyvindur was killed by mistake. He’s sure that he himself was the target and that the people who want him dead are still after him. That’s the whole point. That’s the problem. They’re still after him and he believes they want him dead.’
31
Brynhildur had kept her promise not to tell anyone where Felix was hiding, not even his father. She had meant to tell Rudolf before he heard the news from the police, but she didn’t get a chance. Only after Flóvent’s visit had she come clean. She admitted that she was sheltering Felix at the old surgery and explained why his son wouldn’t go to the authorities. Rudolf was absolutely livid that she had failed to tell him straight away and insisted that Felix should turn himself in.
The whole episode had proved a great strain on the doctor, who had a weak heart, and being forcibly dragged in for questioning by the police had been the final straw. That night he’d developed pains in his chest and had been rushed to hospital. When Flóvent followed Brynhildur earlier she had been on her way to tell Felix that things couldn’t go on like this.
‘You expect me to believe that?’ said Flóvent.
‘Yes, I’m telling you the truth.’
‘What about Felix? Has it not occurred to you that Felix might have fabricated the whole story to con you into helping him? That it’s very gullible of you to swallow this stuff about him being the victim?’
‘Of course it has. And I accused him of exactly that. Said I found his story preposterous. I threatened to go to the police if he didn’t tell me what was really going on. I’ve no interest in taking the rap... as an accomplice or accessory to the crime or whatever you call it, for him or anyone else.’
Flóvent was now able to stand without leaning against the table for support. He still felt a little dizzy, though, so he dropped into the chair by the desk. Brynhildur remained where she was, her back ramrod straight, not giving an inch, as if she would stand by her word whatever the consequences.
‘Where’s Felix now?’ Flóvent asked.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘He was gone by the time I came back. I’ve no idea where to.’
Flóvent couldn’t suppress a smile. ‘It’s time to stop protecting him,’ he said.
‘I... I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt,’ she countered. ‘When he said his life was in danger. I think you would have done the same in the circumstances. A man had been shot dead in his flat and that man should have been him.’
‘Did you also believe him when he told you about the cyanide pill we found in his suitcase?’
‘Cyanide pill?’
‘So Rudolf didn’t tell you either?’
‘What cyanide pill?’
‘I informed Rudolf that we’d found a capsule in Felix’s suitcase and sent it for analysis. According to military intelligence, it’s a suicide pill, manufactured in Germany. Are you telling me that you weren’t aware of its existence? That neither of them let you into their confidence?’
Brynhildur didn’t reply.
‘What was it for?’ asked Flóvent. ‘Why was he carrying it around with him? When did he intend to take it?’
‘I don’t know anything about a pill,’ said Brynhildur after a pause. ‘Felix hasn’t told me the whole story, I do realise that. I told you — he doesn’t want to drag me into it.’
‘I wonder what else Felix has failed to tell you. What else Rudolf has decided you don’t need to know. What else you aren’t sharing with me. Why don’t you stop lying and tell me the simple truth? Where is Felix? And don’t claim you don’t know. He comes running to you as soon as anything goes wrong. You’re like... like a mother to him. Where are you hiding him now? Tell me!’
‘I don’t know where Felix is,’ said Brynhildur. ‘And I don’t know anything about a pill.’
‘German spies carry pills like that. Was Felix sending information to Germany?’
Brynhildur didn’t answer.
‘Is he just waiting to leave the country? Is that why he’s not turning himself in? Are the Germans coming to pick him up?’
‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Leave the country? Where would he go?’
‘To Germany?’
Brynhildur stared at Flóvent without speaking, standing quite still, her expression unreadable. He felt his strength gradually returning and pulled the school anniversary pamphlet from his pocket.
‘What’s that?’ she asked as he handed it to her.
‘Perhaps you can tell me.’
Brynhildur went over to the window and held up the picture to the light from the street. There was a long pause before she turned to look at Flóvent. ‘Where did you get this?’
‘It was among Eyvindur’s things,’ Flóvent replied. ‘Ebeneser said the photo was taken at the school. I gather he and Rudolf had a row recently about some boys. Who were these boys they were arguing about? And why are you in that picture with Felix and Eyvindur?’
‘Have you talked to Ebeneser?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did he say?’
‘Nothing. Rudolf won’t discuss it either. Eyvindur’s uncle tells me that he and Felix were boyhood friends. Yet they came from very different homes. Eyvindur’s father was... he was a vicious thug and persistent offender. His mother was an alcoholic. I wouldn’t have thought Felix would be allowed to associate with a boy from that sort of background. But all I got out of my visit to Rudolf was something about heritage. That the ancestral heritage was supposed to be here in Iceland. Do you have any idea what he meant? What he could have been referring to?’
Brynhildur was staring at the photograph.
‘Why were they quarrelling about the boys?’ asked Flóvent, returning to the attack. ‘Who were these boys?’
She raised her eyes, then handed the pamphlet back to him. Flóvent couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
‘Where did you hear that?’ she asked finally. ‘Who told you they’d quarrelled?’
‘That’s beside the point,’ said Flóvent. ‘Do you know what they were quarrelling about?’
‘You’ll have to ask them,’ said Brynhildur. ‘The picture was taken in the school grounds on the occasion of some anniversary or other. Eyvindur and Felix were at school together — as you’ve already said. But that’s all I know. It was a long time ago. One forgets so quickly.’
‘There are two other boys with them.’
‘Yes, I don’t remember their names.’
‘And the man with you and Ebeneser?’
‘I don’t recognise him. He must have been one of the teachers, I suppose.’
‘All right, let’s leave that for now. Clearly there’s something here that none of you are willing to discuss. You all turn evasive, feign ignorance.’