Michael Ridpath - 66 Degrees North

‘You’ve got it. In her thirties. Quite attractive. Or attractive enough for Claudia to be suspicious.’

‘You don’t have a photo of Harpa, do you?’

‘No, but if you send me one I can get Claudia to ID her.’

HARPA LOOKED NERVOUS as she sat in the interview room. One hand was tugging and twisting the curls in her hair.

Magnus had called Vigdís, who was still on duty, and asked her to bring Harpa in and take her photograph. A copy had already been sent by e-mail to Piper in London.

Magnus and Vigdís had hatched a plan for the interview.

‘Hi, Harpa, thank you for coming in,’ Magnus said. ‘Have you been offered some coffee?’

Harpa shook her head.

‘Would you like some?’

‘No thank you.’ Harpa glanced at both detectives suspiciously. ‘Why am I here?’

Magnus smiled. ‘We’ve got a couple more little questions to ask you. Things come out in an investigation like this, and we have to go back and check them out with witnesses. Sorry, but that’s just the way it works.’

Harpa seemed to relax a bit. ‘OK. What do you want to know?’

‘Have you travelled abroad in the last few months?’ Magnus asked.

Harpa didn’t answer right away. At that moment, Magnus was sure that Harpa was the woman that Claudia had seen. Magnus and Vigdís waited expectantly.

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I went to London in July. Just for a couple of days.’

‘Ah, I see. And why did you go?’

‘Oh, you know, shopping.’

‘Shopping?’ Magnus raised his eyebrows. ‘That might have made sense a year ago. But now? Everything is so expensive abroad now, isn’t it? And you can’t have very much money or you wouldn’t be working in a bakery. In fact how many weeks’ wages did the trip cost?’

‘It’s true. It was expensive,’ Harpa said. ‘But I needed a holiday really badly.’

‘I’ll bet,’ said Magnus.

‘What did you buy?’ Vigdís asked.

‘Oh, um, nothing in the end,’ Harpa said, trying to sound casual. ‘You are right. I hadn’t realized how expensive things are there until I was actually in the shops.’

‘Did you visit any friends?’ Magnus asked.

‘Er. No,’ said Harpa.

‘So you didn’t see any other Icelanders?’

Harpa glanced at the two detectives. Magnus could see that she understood the trap. She didn’t know how much they knew. How far she would have to tell the truth in order to avoid being caught out.

‘I did see one Icelander,’ she said, carefully.

‘And who was that?’ Magnus asked innocently.

‘Óskar,’ Harpa said. ‘Óskar Gunnarsson.’

‘Huh.’ Magnus didn’t mention the fact that Harpa had left that information out of their previous discussions. Not yet. ‘And what did you talk with Óskar about?’

‘Er, well, I don’t remember. I suppose I was a bit lonely in London and I wanted to see an old friend.’

‘And how long did you spend with him?’

‘Twenty minutes. Half an hour. He was busy, he had somewhere to go.’

She must have figured out that Claudia had seen them together.

Magnus leaned forward. ‘How much money did you ask him for?

‘What? I, er, I didn’t ask him for money.’

‘Yes you did, Harpa. How much? A million krónur? Ten million? Perhaps something every month?’

‘I don’t know what you are talking about. Why would I ask him for money?’

‘To pay for his son, Harpa. To pay for his son.’

‘No, no that’s not right,’ Harpa said, her voice rising. ‘He never knew Markús was his son. He never knew that. I told you that.’

‘You told us a lot of things, Harpa, and frankly I don’t believe many of them. Now, how much did you ask for?’

Harpa was breathing heavily. ‘Am I under arrest?’

‘Not yet,’ said Magnus. ‘But we can fix that if you like.’

‘I won’t say anything more unless I have spoken to a lawyer. I have a right to speak to a lawyer, don’t I?’

‘You do,’ said Vigdís, nodding towards the tape recorder. Magnus understood. This all had to be done according to the book, if the evidence was going to be admissible. It was just a slightly different book than he was used to. ‘Do you have one in mind, or would you like us to call one for you?’

‘Um, I have a friend who is a lawyer. Can I call her?’

‘Just wait a moment,’ said Vigdís. She turned off the tape and indicated to Magnus that they should leave the room.

‘So we get her a lawyer, right?’ said Magnus, once they were outside.

‘We speak to Baldur first,’ said Vigdís.

‘But you know what he’ll say,’ said Magnus in frustration. ‘Let her go.’

‘Actually, I don’t,’ said Vigdís. ‘But I do know that if we take this interview any further without discussing it with him he will be seriously pissed off.’

‘Well, let him be pissed off!’ Magnus had trouble keeping his voice down. ‘Someone’s got to crack this case open, and if we don’t do it, no one else will!’

‘Magnús,’ Vigdís said. She looked at him steadily.

‘All right,’ said Magnus, the frustration subsiding to a simmer. ‘You’re right. Let’s go talk to him.’

Baldur was in his office. He listened closely to what Magnus and Vigdís had to report. He was a good detective. He spotted what had been going on at once.

‘How did Sharon know that the dark-haired Icelandic woman who visited Óskar was important?’

Magnus could try bullshitting his boss, but that was never a good long-term strategy. ‘I told her about Harpa. In fact she was with me when Harpa admitted that Óskar was the father of her child.’

Baldur glared at Magnus. ‘I specifically told you to leave Harpa out of it.’

‘I know. I kept it unofficial,’ Magnus said. ‘And Sharon didn’t make a big deal of it at the British end. But she needed to know about Harpa just in case a link came up at her end. Which it did.’

Baldur ran his hand over his bare forehead where his hair had once grown many years before. ‘OK. OK, I take your point. But we know Harpa didn’t actually kill Óskar, right? She was in Iceland at the time.’

‘Yes, it looks that way. Her boss says she came to work early the following morning. We can check out the alibi more thoroughly, but my guess is it will stand.’

‘So what about the boyfriend?’

‘We don’t know where he was. I tried to see him today up in Grundarfjördur but he was out on a boat somewhere.’

‘I didn’t realize you were working today?’

Magnus shrugged.

‘OK,’ said Baldur. ‘You need to check him out.’

‘What about Harpa?’ Vigdís asked.

‘Let Harpa get her lawyer. And then ask her about Óskar and only Óskar. I don’t want you linking this to Gabríel Örn’s suicide, do you understand?’

‘But what if there is a link?’ Magnus protested.

‘There isn’t,’ Baldur said. ‘There is no firm evidence of one. And I don’t want you conjuring evidence out of thin air. ’

‘But the lawyer will tell her to keep her mouth shut,’ Magnus said.

‘Quite possibly,’ Baldur said. ‘And in that case, you let her go.’

Frikki and Magda sat on a stone on Grótta beach and watched the sun set. Despite the recent wind, the sea was calm and quiet, lapping against the black gritty shore. Ducks patrolled the water a few metres out, while along the shoreline a busy little gathering of small grey and white birds scampered in and out in time with the gentle waves.

The sun, a milky yellow ball, was heading for the horizon straight ahead of them. Layer upon layer of creamy clouds reflected its light in orange and gold. Way out to sea, there was nothing. Just the Atlantic.