‘Urged?’ said Magnus. ‘Or threatened.’
‘Urged. I pointed out that if Agnar went through with it, his clients almost certainly wouldn’t get the ring. I kind of admitted I knew that Father had it.’
‘What did Agnar say?’
‘He looked at me for several seconds, thinking. Then he suggested that if Father was too stubborn to give up the ring of his own accord, I should steal it from him. That way I would keep him out of jail.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I said I would think about it.’
Magnus raised his eyebrows.
‘Agnar had a point. I knew Father would never give up the ring, but I didn’t want him to go to jail. I knew where Father kept it, and it would be easy to take it and sell it to Agnar.’
‘So did you?’
‘Steal the ring? No. I drove straight home, and sat down and thought about it. In the end I decided to tell Father what Agnar had suggested. I called him that evening.’
‘And what did your father say?’
‘He was angry. Very angry.’
‘With you?’
‘With Agnar and with me. He was upset that I had as good as admitted that he had the ring. He didn’t seem at all grateful that I had stood by him, that I had called him instead of taking the ring myself.’ There was anger in Tomas’s voice. ‘He lost it, basically.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘I was wound up. I had a drink or two to calm myself down.’ Tomas winced. ‘I ended up drinking most of a bottle of whisky. I woke up late the next morning, still not sure what to do. Then I heard about Agnar’s death on the radio.’
Tomas swallowed.
‘What’s the timing on all this?’ Magnus asked. ‘When did you get home from Lake Thingvellir?’
‘About half-past five or so. Like I told your colleague.’ Tomas’s eyes flicked towards Baldur.
‘And what time did you call your father?’
‘About half an hour later, maybe an hour.’
‘So that’s about six, six-thirty.’ The obvious question framed itself in Magnus’s mind. ‘So your father could have gone to Lake Thingvellir later that night? To shut Agnar up?’
Tomas didn’t answer.
‘Well?’
‘I have no idea,’ he said. But it was quite clear that the thought had occurred to him too.
‘One other question,’ said Magnus. ‘Where does your father hide the ring?’
CHAPTER THIRTY
‘Well done,’ said Baldur as they left the interview room and walked rapidly towards his office. He didn’t smile, he didn’t even look at Magnus, but Magnus knew he meant it.
‘Shall we go arrest Hakon?’ Magnus asked.
‘We’ll get the Selfoss police to arrest him and bring him here for interview,’ said Baldur. ‘They’ll get there more quickly. And I’ll ask them to search for that damned ring.’ He paused as he reached the door to his office. ‘I’d like you to join me when they bring Hakon in.’
‘While you’re talking to the Selfoss police, can you ask them to check their reports on Dr Asgrimur’s death in 1992?’ Magnus asked.
Baldur hesitated, and then nodded curtly.
When Magnus got back to his own desk, Arni was there, looking exhausted.
‘How’s the Gubernator?’ Magnus asked.
‘Very funny. I hear things have been happening back here.’
‘Baldur’s just sending the Selfoss police to arrest the pastor of Hruni now.’
‘Do you think he killed Agnar?’
‘Him or Tomas,’ said Magnus. ‘We’ll find out which pretty soon.’
‘So Isildur and Steve Jubb are innocent?’
‘Looks like it,’ said Magnus. And he explained all that had happened while Arni had been thirty-five thousand feet up in the air.
Magnus was expecting to wait three hours before Hakon was brought in, but it was less than an hour before Baldur strode into the room, his face like thunder.
‘He’s gone,’ he said.
‘Has he taken his car?’ Magnus asked.
‘Of course he has.’
‘And the ring?’
‘Gone as well. If it ever existed.’
It had been a frustrating twenty-four hours for Isildur. He was beginning to have his doubts about Axel, the PI he had hired. Petur Asgrimsson had been spectacularly unhelpful, his sister Ingileif seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth and Axel hadn’t succeeded in finding out very much from his supposed contacts in the police. Tomas Hakonarson was under arrest for the murder of Agnar, there was evidence that he had been at Lake Thingvellir on the night in question, but the police were dismissing rumours of magic rings as mythology.
Morons!
He and Gimli were waiting in the Hotel Borg for a call from Axel. In separate rooms. Despite the fact that they had formed such a close bond in the virtual world, in the real one they had little in common. Isildur was rereading the Volsung Saga and Gimli was watching repeats of a handball match. He had explained that whenever he went to a foreign country he liked to watch the local sports on TV.
Isildur’s cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID. It was Axel.
‘I’ve found her,’ the PI said.
‘Where is she?’
‘At her apartment.’
‘Great! Let’s go talk to her.’
‘I’ll pick you up in five minutes.’
Isildur summoned Gimli and they waited outside the hotel. The square was empty, other than the pigeons. The parliament building squatted on the south side, a tough building made of blackened stone. It was slightly smaller than the branch of Isildur’s local bank in Trinity County, and stood next to what must have been the tiniest cathedral in the world.
Axel drew up in his old banger and they crammed inside. They were soon outside Ingileif’s building. Once again, Isildur took the lead and rang the bell.
A pretty blonde woman answered the door with half a smile.
‘Hi,’ said Isildur, confident by now that a young Icelander would speak English. ‘My name’s Lawrence Feldman. I’m the guy who was all set to buy your saga. Can we come in?’
The half smile disappeared. ‘No you may not,’ said Ingileif. ‘Go away. I want nothing to do with you.’
‘I would still be willing to pay a very good price for the saga, Miss Asgrimsdottir.’
‘I’m not going to discuss it with you.’
Isildur persisted. ‘And if by any chance you know of the where-abouts of the ring itself, I will pay you for that information. Or for the ring, if you have it.’
‘Fuck off,’ said Ingileif in crisp English, and slammed the door in his face.
‘Funny. That’s exactly what her brother said,’ said Gimli with a chuckle.
But Isildur did not see the funny side. He had been hoping for a breakthrough from Ingileif. In his experience, if you waved enough money, you could usually get what you wanted.
