‘Yes, I have wondered about that,’ said Brynhildur reluctantly. ‘That’s true.’
‘That Felix might have shot him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you think he’d be capable of that? Of shooting a man in the head?’
Brynhildur hesitated. ‘I’m in no position to judge,’ she replied after a moment. ‘It’s impossible to answer a question like that.’
‘Is it?’ said Flóvent. ‘Is it so impossible? Didn’t you say he had inherited a cruel streak from his father’s side? From Hans Lunden?’
Brynhildur didn’t answer.
‘Do you remember a boy who was at school with him and Eyvindur and Jósep, a boy called Rikki? You ought to remember him. He’s in the photograph.’ Flóvent took out the leaflet and laid it on the table in front of her.
Brynhildur held Flóvent’s gaze silently for a moment, before dropping her eyes briefly to the picture, then looking away to study the tabletop.
‘Why don’t you pick it up?’ asked Flóvent. ‘Take a better look?’
‘I’ve seen it often enough.’
‘Do you remember what happened to the boy in question?’
Again, Brynhildur didn’t answer.
‘I expect you have at least a vague recollection,’ said Flóvent. ‘He was one of the boys Felix focused his attentions on, befriended for a while. The doctor’s son, no less, deigning to visit the boy from the Pólar, where the dregs of society lived, inspecting his living conditions, observing his drunken mother and his violent father who used to hit her, and his sister who was mistreated. Observing Rikki himself, who did his best to please Felix.’
Brynhildur kept her eyes lowered.
‘Jósep here,’ said Flóvent, pointing to the photograph, ‘told me about Rikki and his family. He also told me that Felix had a strange hold over the boys he got to know. He was more intelligent, from a stable home, his father was an important doctor and so on, but there was something else about him, something captivating, almost dangerous, which they’d never encountered before. A certain charisma. They were ready to tell him anything he wanted to know, obey any orders he gave them. They held nothing back, which was how he managed to learn their inner secrets: their thoughts, their fears — and test how easily they would bend to his will. He was their leader. They did everything he wanted. Jósep shoplifted for him. Eyvindur killed a kitten by bashing its head against a rock — because Felix told him to.’
Brynhildur bowed her head, and Flóvent leant across the table to try to see her face.
‘And Rikki jumped because Felix gave him a pill, which he’d acquired from his father, and told him he’d be able to fly.’
Brynhildur didn’t say a word during this speech.
‘Did Rudolf give Felix the pill? Was that part of the experiment?’
Brynhildur didn’t answer.
‘Wasn’t it all part of the experiment? The blind faith they put in their leader?’
‘Rudolf never thought... he thought Felix would stop the boy before he could jump.’
‘Never thought...? Was he never struck by the irony that the only boy in all these bizarre experiments who turned out to be really dangerous was his own son? Little Felix Lunden?’
‘Felix put the blame on Ríkhardur... on Rikki himself. On his naivety. His stupidity. Rudolf has never got over the shock. Of course he was responsible. It was part of his research. He pushed his son. Encouraged him. Felix told him all about the boys, and Rudolf directed Felix. He didn’t wake up to the consequences until it was too late. The study was never mentioned again. He blamed Felix and sent him to live with relatives in Denmark. He avoided him. He’s never really made it up to him, and their relationship has never recovered. When Felix came back he was restless, neglected his studies, then left college without taking his exams... He’d been to stay with his Uncle Hans in Germany and seen the rise of Nazism first-hand and was swept away by enthusiasm for everything he saw and heard. He latched on to the Nationalist Party here but felt they didn’t go far enough, weren’t ambitious enough. “A bunch of nonentities,” he called them.’
‘Were you aware that he had started sending information to Germany? Did you help him?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘But you didn’t report him?’
‘Don’t try to put the blame on me for... You...’ She broke off, and they could see that she was angry now. Burning with resentment at the questions, at the accusations, at the way she was being treated — which she felt was entirely unjustified. Suddenly it seemed she’d had enough, that she had finally decided to place all her cards on the table.
‘Aren’t you overlooking the obvious?’ she said.
‘The obvious?’
‘Why do you think Felix wasn’t sent to Britain after he came home? There he was: half German, related to Hans Lunden, a known Nazi. And why do you think Rudolf, a personal friend of Werner Gerlach, wasn’t immediately deported? Why do you think father and son aren’t sitting in internment camps in Britain right now?’
‘What do mean?’ asked Thorson.
‘Use your heads,’ said Brynhildur.
‘Rudolf’s a sick man,’ said Thorson. ‘The journey would have finished him off. The old man wouldn’t have posed any real threat. You said so yourself: he’d turned his back on Nazism.’
‘Don’t be so naive,’ said Brynhildur. ‘As if they’d have cared a damn if Rudolf had dropped dead on the voyage to Britain. It would simply have meant one less Nazi to worry about.’
‘Then what are you...?’
‘Instead of arresting Felix and deporting him, they decided to make use of him,’ said Brynhildur.
‘Make use of him?’
‘Felix is convinced that the British have been using him to transmit information they wanted the enemy to know. I don’t know how he came to this conclusion, but he thinks somebody exposed him. And that the person in question is based in Germany and is vital to the British. That’s why Felix is so terrified. Why he thinks Eyvindur was shot with a bullet that was meant for him. That’s why he’s gone into hiding and is afraid to give himself up.’
‘He thinks the British are after him?’ asked Thorson.
Brynhildur nodded. ‘Those were his words,’ she said. ‘He doesn’t know how many people are involved.’
‘And you believe him?’ asked Flóvent.
‘I’m not sure,’ said Brynhildur. ‘I don’t know what to believe any more. Felix has said a number of things that I can’t begin to understand. He’s very isolated and paranoid and his ideas are becoming more and more outlandish because he doesn’t know exactly what’s happened or why it’s happened or where to turn or how he’s ended up in this mess. But there’s one claim he’s made consistently, right from the first, and that’s about Eyvindur.’
‘That he was shot by mistake?’
‘Yes. That Eyvindur took a bullet intended for him. He’s desperate for it to be known that he didn’t harm Eyvindur. He wants his father to know that.’
‘Do you know where Felix is?’ Thorson said once more.
‘No,’ said Brynhildur. ‘I don’t. You could try asking Rudolf. But I don’t know if there’s any point. They... they have rather a tricky relationship, as I’ve said before. Felix hates his father, but it’s as if he longs for his recognition more than anything else in the world. And Rudolf may have turned against his son to a degree, but, on the other hand, there’s no one more concerned about him. That’s the only suggestion I can offer. Otherwise I can’t help you. You’ll have to find him for yourselves.’
They sensed that she was genuinely uncertain of his whereabouts.
‘I don’t know what to make of Felix,’ she went on after a moment. ‘I have to admit. The thing about him is... I pity him and I want to try to understand and help him. I thought I could do that by hiding him. I could tell how frightened he was and believed that he was the victim of circumstances beyond his control. But, on the other hand, he can be...’