CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Petur saw the familiar figure of his sister emerge from the gloom over the lip of the hollow. She walked in the same way she had when she was a girl – her coat was even the same colour. It brought back memories of those family picnics, before everything had been ruined. At twelve Inga had been really quite pretty, even when wearing her earnest glasses, but she had always been overshadowed by the stunning Birna. Petur felt a sudden surge of affection for his little sister.
She wouldn’t let him down. She couldn’t possibly let him down.
He raised a hand to greet her.
‘Why the hell are we meeting here?’ she said, shivering.
‘It’s the right place,’ said Petur gravely. ‘It’s the right place to talk about Dad.’ This wasn’t starting well.
‘What I want to know is what you were doing driving up to Stong yesterday. They found Hakon’s car, you know. And his body at the bottom of Hjalparfoss.’
‘I’ll tell you about that. But I want to tell you about Dad first.’
‘My God!’ said Ingileif. ‘You know how he died, don’t you?’
Petur nodded, meeting her eyes. They were anxious, questioning, but also angry.
‘I was with them that weekend. With the pastor and Dad.’
‘I thought you were at school.’
‘I know. Dad wanted me to come with him on the expedition. He was convinced they would find the ring. I was in two minds about it. As I told you, I was dead against them taking the ring – I remembered Grandpa’s warnings. But in the end, he persuaded me.
‘The trouble was, Mum had forbidden it. So we didn’t tell her. I took the bus to Hella from Reykjavik and they picked me up there.’
‘So Mum never knew?’
‘No.’ Petur shook his head. ‘We camped out on the hills and then the next morning we got to the cave. It wasn’t really a cave, more of a hole in the lava. It took us three hours to find it, but it was Dad who discovered it. He was so excited!’
Petur smiled at the memory. ‘And who can blame him? It was amazing. There was this ring, covered in a small film of dust. It’s not that it was shining or anything, you had to rub it to tell it was gold. But there was the proof that Gaukur’s Saga, this story that had been passed down by all of our ancestors for all those years, was actually true.’
‘But you and Dad always thought it was true, didn’t you?’
‘We believed,’ said Petur. ‘We had faith. But anyone who has to believe or have faith rather than simply knowing, always has doubts. And to have those doubts dispelled… Amazing.
‘So I was caught up in the whole thing. But after a few minutes I told Dad we had to put it back. I talked about all the evil it would bring the world, how Grandpa had told me to make sure that Dad never took it. We had a major row. Dad looked to Reverend Hakon for support and he got it. I even tried to grab the ring off him, but he pushed me to one side.
‘I had kind of ruined everything,’ Petur said. ‘They walked on together and I followed twenty metres behind, sulking, you could say. Then the weather got bad. It was sunny one moment, the next it was snowing.
‘I saw my chance. Dad was in front, the pastor next and then me. I slipped past the pastor and tried to grab the ring from Dad: I knew which of his coat pockets it was in. My plan was to run off into the snow and replace it in the cave. I was pretty sure I could outrun them in the snowstorm and they would soon give up.
‘So Dad and I rolled around in the snow, then I pushed him and he fell, hitting his head on a rock.’ Petur gulped. The tears came into his eyes. ‘I thought I had knocked him out, but he was dead. Just like that.’
‘Oh, don’t give me that! You pushed him over a cliff! He was found at the bottom of the cliff.’
‘I didn’t, I swear it. It was only a fall of a couple of metres. It was just the way he hit his head. On his temple – right here.’ Petur tapped his own shaved skull.
‘So how do you explain the cliff?’
‘Reverend Hakon saw what had happened. He took charge. I was a wreck after I saw what I had done. My mind was a blank. I couldn’t say anything, I couldn’t think anything. Hakon knew it was an accident. He told me to go, run away, pretend I was never there. So I ran.
‘He pushed Dad over the cliff. Oh, he was dead then, that’s for sure, the autopsy people got that wrong when they said he was alive for a few minutes. But Hakon covered for me.’
Ingileif put a hand to her mouth, her brow knitted in anguish. ‘I can’t believe it,’ she said. ‘So you were the elf the old sheep farmer saw?’
‘Elf?’ Petur frowned.
‘Never mind.’
Petur smiled at his sister. ‘It’s true. I killed Dad. But it was a mistake. A dreadful, horrible mistake. If Hakon were alive he could tell you that.’ He took a step forward. Took his sister’s hands in his. Looked in her eyes – horrified, shocked, confused. ‘Can you forgive me, Inga?’
Ingileif stood stunned for a moment. Then she backed off.
‘It wasn’t murder, Inga. Surely you understand that?’
‘But what about Aggi? And the pastor? Did you kill them as well?’
‘Don’t you see, I had to?’
‘What do you mean, you had to?’
‘As you know by now, Hakon took the ring. When Agnar went to see him, he guessed he had it. He accused Hakon of killing Dad and taking the ring. Hakon threw him out, of course, but then Agnar approached Tomas, tried to get him to act as an intermediary. He tried to blackmail Hakon through him.’
‘But what did all this have to do with you?’
‘Hakon had been good to me. He had kept me out of the police investigation completely. Until then, I had no idea what had happened to the ring, I had tried so hard not to think about it, or to ask questions about it, but it didn’t exactly surprise me that Hakon had taken it from Dad. So, in the end, Hakon called me. He explained what was going on, that it looked like he would have to tell the truth about what had happened to Dad, unless I did something.’
‘Did what?’
‘He didn’t say. But we both knew.’
‘Oh, my God! You did kill Aggi!’
‘I had to. Don’t you see, I had to?’
Ingileif shook her head. ‘Of course you didn’t have to. And then you killed Hakon?’
Petur nodded. ‘Once his son was in jail and the police were after him, I knew the truth would come out.’
‘How could you?’
‘What do you mean, how could I?’ Petur protested, with a flash of anger. ‘You were the one who insisted on putting Gaukur’s Saga up for sale. If it hadn’t been for that, all would be well.’
‘That’s bullshit. Yes, I made a mistake. But I had no idea what would happen. It was you! You who killed them!’ Ingileif took a step back. ‘OK, maybe you killed Dad by accident, but not the other two. Hang on – did you kill Sigursteinn as well?’
Petur nodded. ‘You have to admit he deserved it after what he had done to Birna. I flew back from London, met him in Reykjavik, bought him a few drinks.’
‘And he ended up in the harbour?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Who are you?’ Ingileif said, her eyes wide. ‘You’re not my brother. Who are you?’
Petur closed his eyes. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘It’s this.’ He took his hand out of his pocket. Showed her the ring on his finger. ‘Here. Take a look.’
He slipped it off and handed it to her. It was his last chance. Maybe the ring would corrupt his sister just like it had corrupted him, his father, Hakon and all the others.
Ingileif stared at it. ‘Is this it?’
