‘In Reykjavik Ingolfur Arnarson became a director of the National Bank, and then its governor. And then Prime Minister.’
‘Olafur Tomasson!’ The Prime Minister until the pots-and-pans revolution. The former leader of the Independence Party. And onetime governor of the Central Bank.
‘That’s right,’ said Ingileif. ‘But, Magnus?’
‘Yes?’
‘Can you wait a moment? Just a minute. I need to talk to you. I think I
‘Look, I’m sorry, Ingileif, we’ll have to discuss this later,’ said Magnus. ‘I’ve got to go.’
For a second he wondered whether he had made a mistake cutting her off like that.
Then he called Baldur.
He outlined his fear. That the next victim was Olafur Tomasson and the means could be a bomb.
‘Are you sure?’ Baldur asked.
‘Of course I’m not sure,’ said Magnus. ‘But you need to tell him to be careful. Does he have protection?’
‘He did until two months ago. Then we pulled it. Cost savings.’
‘Well, you had better get it back, pronto,’ said Magnus and hung up.
He was standing alone in the car park. The Stykkisholmur police station was a more substantial building than its Grundarfjordur counterpart, as befitted a regional headquarters. A small white concrete office block, shared with the district court.
He hesitated before entering. There was nothing more he could do, was there? He would have to rely on Baldur to get the message out. That might take several minutes, even longer if there were approvals to go through, people to talk to, decisions to be dithered over. Maybe they would decide once again that Magnus was operating on no more than a hunch.
Magnus remembered that the former Prime Minister lived in one of the houses on the shore of the Tjornin, the bird-strewn lake right in the heart of Reykjavik. If Arni was driving from Seltjarnarnes to police HQ, he was right there.
Magnus called him.
‘Arni, where are you right now?’
‘On the Hringbraut, just coming up to the university.’
That was just a few hundred metres from the Tjornin.
‘OK. Listen closely and do exactly as I say.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘You know where Olafur Tomasson lives?’
‘Yes.’
‘All right. We believe he is the next victim. Probably from a bomb. I want you to go to his house and get him and his family out of there. Don’t let him touch any packages and above all don’t let him get in his car. You got that?’
‘Are you sure about this, Magnus? He’s an important guy.’
‘Which is why they want to blow him up.’
‘I’m on my way,’ said Arni.
Good man, thought Magnus. Olafur was famously irascible, especially since he had been forced out of office, and he wouldn’t take kindly to being pushed around by a skinny detective.
Tough.
Blue light again.
Arni put his foot down on the accelerator, swerved round the roundabout in front of the university and in less than a minute was speeding along the road on the edge of the Tjornin. The houses along the lake were some of Reykjavik’s most majestic, and Olafur Tomasson’s was at the northern end near the City Hall.
As he neared the house he could see the familiar tall, gaunt figure of the man himself. He was standing by the door of his Mercedes. Opening it. Getting in.
Arni leaned on his horn. But that might not be enough to prevent Olafur from turning on the ignition.
Olafur’s car was parked in the driveway outside his house, facing downhill towards the road and the lake. Arni had to do something in the next couple of seconds that would persuade Olafur not to insert his keys in the ignition, but to get out of his car.
There was a blonde woman pushing a buggy along the pavement by the lake, pointing at the ducks. Blaring the horn all the while, Arni swerved and aimed straight at her. He saw, rather than heard her scream. At the last second he changed direction and hit a tree. The airbag exploded and smashed into his face.
He heard the mother’s screams and the sound of shouting and running feet.
He opened his car door, extricated himself from the airbag and staggered out on to the pavement.
‘What the hell do you think you were doing driving that fast?’
Arni turned to see the angry face of the former Prime Minister of Iceland yelling at him.
He smiled.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
THERE WAS A bomb under Olafur’s car. Arni checked it himself, crawling under the chassis. Probably a dumb move, but he had to do something to shut up his former Prime Minister. The Explosive Ordnance Disposal Unit from the coastguard was called in. More used to dealing with unexploded mines from the Second World War, it took them a while to locate their two experts who were trained to deal with car bombs. One was on holiday, and the other one turned out to be in one of the hot tubs at the Laugardalur pool.
In the end the expert played it safe and went for a controlled explosion. Wrought havoc with the ex-Prime Minister’s garden, and scared the wits out of the little girl next door.
The Viking Squad, when it eventually assembled, burst into Harpa’s parents’ house and arrested Einar watching the golf on TV. A forensics team was poring over his garage looking for signs of bomb-making, and finding them.
In Stykkisholmur police station, Magnus prepared to drive back to Reykjavik. Before he left he brought a cup of coffee in to the interview room where Harpa was waiting. The plan was to drive her down to Reykjavik where she would be formally interviewed at police headquarters. Uniformed officers would escort her.
‘Thanks,’ Harpa said, accepting the coffee.
‘And thank you for stopping Isak. I meant to ask you, how did you get down there so fast?’
‘Jumped. Just like you.’ She smiled. ‘I seemed to do myself less damage, though. How is Isak? Is he going to live?’
‘He’s in intensive care in hospital. They are keeping him unconscious and giving him drugs to prevent the brain swelling, apparently. They can’t be sure, but the chances are good that he will make a full recovery. Unfortunately.’
‘You say that, Magnus, but I’m glad. I don’t want to have anyone else’s death on my conscience.’
Magnus was going to argue with her, but stopped himself. He sipped his coffee.
‘What happens now?’ Harpa asked. ‘Do I go to jail?’
‘Probably,’ said Magnus. ‘You may be lucky, with a good lawyer. This is Iceland, not Texas.’
‘I’m not sure I can face it.’
‘You’ve had a tough time,’ said Magnus. ‘A really tough time. Most other people would have cracked long ago.’
Harpa smiled, weakly. ‘I think I’m not far off it.’
‘I’m sure you’re not. Just think of Markus. Keep on thinking of Markus. Hold it together for his sake.’
‘Yeah,’ said Harpa. ‘Yeah.’
