Andy McDermott - The Midas Legacy

Macy, in the seat between her parents, let out a little gasp. ‘Daddy! You said a bad word!’

‘It’s not a bad word in America, love,’ he assured her. ‘And when Americans say it, it sounds wrong anyway.’

‘It’s still a bad word in England, though,’ Nina reminded him.

‘No it’s not. It’s more like punctuation.’

‘All the same, Daddy’s going to stop saying it. Isn’t he?’

‘Bloomin’ right,’ said Eddie, but with a smile at his daughter.

A few minutes later, the Icelandair flight touched down at Keflavik international airport. Macy squealed first in alarm, then excitement. ‘There you go, honey,’ said Nina. ‘You just finished your first airplane ride!’

The little girl craned her neck to see out of the porthole. ‘Can we do it again?’

‘Yeah, we’ll be going back to New York soon,’ said Eddie. He gave Nina a meaningful sidelong look. ‘I hope.’

‘I’m sure we will,’ she replied.

She couldn’t help feeling trepidation, however. Olivia had been annoyingly opaque, insisting only that the meeting she had set up would answer all Nina’s questions about the Midas Cave — and her mother. She had not even expanded any further on the nature of the mysterious Legacy until Nina put her foot down and told her that without at least some clue about what to expect, she wasn’t going to leave New York, never mind the country. ‘I have a seat on what we call the Midas Legacy,’ Olivia had finally said. ‘It’s not nearly as mysterious as it sounds — it’s simply a rather self-aggrandising name Tobias and the others came up with, and that the three families have kept ever since because… well, we rather like it. It’s essentially a council that meets every so often to make decisions concerning the fortune.’

Beyond that, however, she had not been forthcoming, which had made convincing Eddie that they should travel to Iceland a drawn-out process. But eventually he’d acquiesced, the condition being that Macy go with them; their daughter had had a passport for some time in anticipation of eventual travel. Nina had been more than happy to agree.

By international standards, Keflavik was a relatively small airport, so it did not take long to clear passport control. The only minor delay was when they had to wait for one of their items of luggage. Nina had checked the Crucible in as oversized baggage, the crystal well-protected in the same box used to transport it from Nepal. ‘Well, it made it this far,’ said Eddie as he collected it from the claim counter, with a wary look around.

‘The only people who knew it was in New York were Lola, Oswald and Olivia,’ said Nina. ‘And Olivia was the only one who knew it was coming here. I don’t think she’d send goons to steal it herself.’ She put Macy into a puffy winter coat, then took her hand and started for the exit.

‘Considering that she lied to you to find the thing in the first place…’

‘Eddie,’ Nina warned him quietly. Despite his misgivings — and her own, for that matter — about the sudden reappearance of her long-lost relative they had agreed not to air them in front of their daughter. He made a disapproving noise, but said nothing more.

A man approached them as they emerged from the arrivals gate. ‘Dr Wilde?’

‘Yes?’ Nina said cautiously, aware that Eddie was subtly taking up a defensive stance, ready to react to any threat. The man — around thirty, with bristling light brown hair and a wide, tight-lipped mouth that gave an unsmiling edge to his otherwise handsome face — eyed him, clearly realising what he was doing.

‘I am Rutger De Klerx. Mrs Garde is waiting for you in my car.’ At first Nina thought his accent was German, but on hearing his name, she quickly revised her guess to Dutch. ‘If you and your daughter will come with me?’

‘And her husband too,’ rumbled Eddie.

‘Yes, and you, Mr Chase,’ said De Klerx, though not without a dismissive exhalation. Eddie started to mutter something rude, but held it back after a glance at Macy.

They followed De Klerx to his waiting car, which was more imposing than expected. ‘So we’re getting a lift from the Fall Guy?’ said Eddie, looking up at their ride. It was a bright red Ford Expedition EL, already a large vehicle capable of seating seven people, but made even taller by the fitting of massive off-road tyres and a jacked-up heavy-duty suspension. Banks of spotlights ran across its radiator grille and roof, a rack on the tailgate holding ropes, chains and jerrycans of fuel.

‘It’s a monster truck!’ cried the amazed Macy.

Even smiling, De Klerx did not appear to be amused. ‘They call them “super jeeps” here in Iceland. They are the only way to reach some parts of the island when there is snow.’ He folded down a step and opened the rear door to let them in.

‘I guess we’re going somewhere snowy?’ said Nina as she clambered aboard. Eddie lifted Macy up after her.

‘The Electra hotel,’ said Olivia from the front passenger seat. She greeted them, then continued: ‘One of the Legacy’s other members owns it. We sometimes use it for meetings because we can be sure of privacy. It’s a little out of the way.’ She smiled at Macy. ‘Hello, dear. Did you enjoy your trip on an airplane?’

Macy began an enthusiastic recounting of the journey as Eddie climbed into the cabin. ‘See you planned ahead,’ he said, gesturing at the child seat into which Nina was buckling their daughter.

‘I always do,’ Olivia replied.

De Klerx got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. The Expedition’s big V8 sounded as if it had been considerably beefed up, exhaust pipes roaring. He pulled away, the studded tyres crunching noisily over the road surface.

Keflavik was some distance from the Icelandic capital Reykjavik, a long and lonely highway running parallel to the coastline before reaching the city’s outskirts. Rather than heading into the centre, the Expedition skirted around it, taking a road that climbed into the hills to the east. The patches of snow on the ground grew larger as they went higher, soon joining to cover the entire landscape. The road itself was relatively free of ice — the Icelanders were well practised at ploughing and clearing their thoroughfares even in the wilderness — but the only vehicles they saw as they crossed the high plains were other super jeeps, in the form of pumped-up SUVs, pickups and even buses.

Eddie kept Macy occupied with an animated conversation about animals that might live in snow. ‘Not many people out here,’ Nina observed. The scenery was beautiful, but no less devoid of life than the mountains of Nepal.

‘You should see this road when the Northern Lights are active,’ said Olivia disapprovingly. ‘It’s almost as congested as Manhattan on a Friday evening. Endless busloads of tourists on their way to Thingvellir in the hope of getting a good view.’

‘What’s a Thingvellir?’ Macy asked.

‘It’s a national park. There’s a very big lake there, and it’s also the place where the Icelanders used to have their parliament. Do you know what a parliament is?’

‘I’ve got some words to describe the British one, but I can’t use them in front of the little ’un,’ said Eddie with a grin.

‘It’s where people meet to vote on what they’re going to do,’ Nina told the confused girl. ‘Like Congress in Washington DC.’

Realisation lit Macy’s face. ‘Oh, where all the idiots are!’

‘I see you’ve been offering commentary on the news,’ Olivia said to the couple, amused, before addressing Macy again. ‘The Icelanders called it the Althing, and it was their government. I suppose we’re going to our own little Althing, except only three families vote in this one. Mine is one of them.’