They were bare.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Magnus drove back towards Reykjavik. The Thjorsa, which had sparkled the day before, flowed broad and ominously grey down towards the Atlantic Ocean.
This changed things. This definitely changed things.
It looked very much as if someone had killed Hakon. It wasn’t Tomas, he was locked up safe and sound. So who was it?
Steve Jubb and Lawrence Feldman?
Since he had arrived in Iceland, Magnus had heard about a lot of people who had suffered sudden death over the years. Not just Agnar and now Hakon. But also Dr Asgrimur. And even Ingileif’s stepfather.
Too many in such a peaceful country to be a coincidence.
Another fall. Another drowning.
Dr Asgrimur had fallen to his death. That was supposed to be an accident. Agnar had been hit over the head and then drowned. Even Ingileif’s stepfather had fallen into Reykjavik Harbour, hitting his head and drowning.
That was it. It was that death that had raised doubts at the back of Magnus’s mind earlier when he was talking to the Commissioner.
It was a classic MO, a modus operandi, a means of killing for which a murderer showed a preference. Even the smartest killers often stuck to the same familiar method.
There were only two people who were linked to all these deaths. A brother and a sister. Petur and Ingileif.
Magnus dismissed Ingileif. But Petur?
He had alibis. He was at high school in Reykjavik when his father had died. But perhaps he had been able to get out that weekend without anyone knowing? Perhaps he was the hidden man that the old farmer had seen? He was supposed to have been in London when his stepfather had been killed, but he could easily have flown back to Reykjavik for a couple of days without anyone knowing. If he had heard of what the man had done to his sister, Birna, he might have been moved to take revenge. Especially if he had killed before.
But what about Agnar’s murder? Petur had an alibi for that. He was at his clubs all night, Arni had checked it out.
Magnus slammed his palm on the steering wheel. Arni! That was what he had been trying to say before he lost consciousness after he was shot. Not ‘Goodbye’ but ‘Alibi’. He was trying to tell Magnus about an alibi. Petur’s alibi.
Magnus could imagine what had happened. Arni had been round each of Petur’s three clubs and had received assurances that Petur had been seen there at some point on the evening of the murder. He hadn’t cross-checked times, drawn up a precise time-line of exactly where Petur was and when during that night. It was just the kind of sloppy mistake he would make. But, to be fair to him, it was also the kind of thing he would feel guilty about later.
Petur had made sure he was seen in the early part of the evening and then driven up to Lake Thingvellir, arriving after nine-thirty when Steve Jubb had left. Perhaps he waited for an hour or so after he had killed Agnar until it was completely dark, before carrying him down to the lake. That would explain the signs of flies on the body in the summer house. Then, of course, he would still have time to get back to his clubs in the early hours of the morning, while they were still hopping.
Four deaths. And Petur was responsible for all of them.
Magnus accelerated towards Reykjavik. He wanted to call Ingileif. Of course she was Petur’s sister, her first loyalty was to him. But she wouldn’t shield a murderer. Or would she?
Magnus called her number. ‘Ingileif? It’s me, Magnus.’
‘Oh.’
‘Where are you?’
‘I’m on the road to Fludir.’
The road from Hella to Fludir passed the turn-off up the Thjorsa valley not far ahead of Magnus.
‘I need to talk to you. I’m pretty close. If you pull over and tell me where you are, I’ll find you.’
‘I can’t, Magnus, I have an appointment.’
‘It’s important.’
‘No, I’m sorry, Magnus.’
‘It’s very important!’
‘Look, if you want to arrest me, arrest me. Otherwise let me go about my business.’
Magnus realized he had pushed too hard, but he was none the less surprised by her evasiveness.
‘Ingileif, where’s Petur?’
‘I don’t know.’ Suddenly the voice was quieter, less belligerent. She was lying.
‘Where are you going?’ Magnus asked.
Silence.
‘Are you going to meet him?’
Ingileif hung up.
A police car screamed by, lights flashing, speeding upstream to reinforce the officers gawping at the pastor’s body.
Magnus remembered the way Ingileif had suddenly stiffened on that very same road the day before. As though she had seen something. Perhaps the driver of a passing car? Petur?
If she had seen him, then the information that Hakon’s car had been found would make her think. Think along the same lines that Magnus had just been following. Like Magnus she would want to talk to Petur. She was going to meet him now.
In Fludir. If she was telling the truth about that.
Magnus called Ingileif back. As expected, she didn’t pick up the phone. But he left her a message that Hakon’s body had been found downstream from his car. If she was meeting her brother, that was something she needed to know.
He carried on driving. It was still a few kilometres to the junction where he could turn left for Reykjavik or right for Fludir. But first he needed to tell Baldur about Petur.
He called his cell phone. No reply. The bastard wasn’t picking him up.
He tried Vigdis. She, at least, would listen to him.
‘Vigdis, where are you?’
‘At police headquarters.’
‘I need you to go arrest Petur Asgrimsson.’
‘Why?’
Magnus explained. Vigdis listened, asking one or two pertinent questions. ‘Makes sense to me,’ she said. ‘Have you told Baldur?’
‘He won’t take my call.’
‘I’ll speak to him.’
Magnus’s phone rang again a minute later.
‘He won’t do it.’ It was Vigdis’s voice.
‘Won’t do what?’
‘Authorize me to arrest Petur.’
‘What!’
‘He says it’s too early to leap to conclusions. He hasn’t even seen the body yet. There have been too many early arrests made in this investigation.’
‘It’s only because I suggested it,’ Magnus said bitterly.
‘I can’t comment on that,’ said Vigdis. ‘But I do know I can’t arrest Petur if my chief told me not to.’
‘No, of course not, Vigdis. I’m putting you in a difficult situation.’
