‘It was the hidden man’s wedding ring,’ said the old man. ‘That’s why his friend was killed. He stole the hidden man’s wedding ring. Fool! What did he expect? I’m surprised the pastor wasn’t killed as well, although he was half dead when he came to our door.’
‘Did you see the hidden man clearly?’ Magnus asked.
‘No, it was snowing. I caught no more than a glimpse of him, really.’
‘But you could tell he was young?’
‘Yes. By the way he moved.’
Magnus glanced at Ingileif. ‘Could he have been thirteen?’
‘No,’ said the old man. ‘He was taller than that. And besides, remember he was married. Thirteen was too young for a hidden man to get married, even in those days.’ He stared at Magnus with eyes full of certainty.
*
‘Tomas was tall at the age of thirteen, one of the tallest in our class,’ Ingileif said. ‘Probably one metre seventy-five, something like that.’
They were driving fast down the Thjorsardalur back towards Reykjavik.
‘So he could have been out there with them that day,’ Magnus said.
‘You would have thought that the police would have discovered that, wouldn’t you?’
‘Maybe not,’ said Magnus. ‘Country police. No reason at all to think that a murder had been committed. I will dig out the files. They’re probably at Selfoss police headquarters.’
‘I knew Hakon had the ring!’ Ingileif said.
‘It certainly sounds like it. Though I still find it difficult to believe the ring actually exists.’
‘But the farmers saw it on his finger!’
‘Yes, just before they saw an elf.’
‘Well, I don’t care what you believe. I believe Hakon killed my father and took the ring! He must have done.’
‘Unless it was Tomas who killed him?’
‘He was only thirteen,’ said Ingileif. ‘He wasn’t that kind of kid. Whereas Hakon…’
‘Well, if Tomas didn’t kill your father, he would have witnessed it. It sounds like I have plenty to talk to him about.’
‘Can’t we just go back to Hruni and search Hakon’s house?’
‘We need a warrant. Especially if we’re going to find evidence we plan to use at trial, which it sounds like we might. That’s why I’ve got to get back to Reykjavik.’
They were going pretty fast. The surface of the road along the edge of the river was excellent, but there were some bends and wiggles. Magnus sped over the crest of a small hill, and almost hit a white BMW four-wheel-drive coming at him the other way.
‘That was close.’ He glanced over to see Ingileif’s reaction to his driving.
She was sitting bolt upright in her seat, frowning slightly.
Her phone rang. She answered quickly, glanced at Magnus, mumbled ‘ Ja,’ two or three times, and hung up.
‘Who was that?’ Magnus asked.
‘The gallery,’ Ingileif answered.
Magnus took Ingileif directly to her apartment in 101.
‘Will I see you tonight?’ she said as she got out of the car. ‘I could cook you dinner.’ She smiled.
‘I don’t know,’ said Magnus. ‘I’m bound to be working late on the case.’
‘I don’t mind,’ said Ingileif. ‘We can eat late. I’ll be eager to hear what’s happening. And well…’ she hesitated, blushing. ‘It would be nice to see you.’
‘I don’t know, Ingileif.’
‘Magnus? Magnus, what is it?’
‘There’s this girl. Colby. Back in Boston.’
‘But I asked you if there were any girls! You told me there weren’t.’
‘There aren’t.’ Magnus tried to get his thoughts in order. ‘She’s an ex-girlfriend. Definitely an ex-girlfriend.’
‘Well then?’
‘Well…’ Magnus was floundering. Ingileif was standing on the pavement watching him flounder. Her smile was long gone.
‘Yes?’
‘Am I just like Larus?’
‘What!’
‘I mean, am I just a, you know, someone to see, when you feel like
…’
‘When I feel like a fuck? Is that what you’re trying to say?’
Magnus sighed. ‘I don’t know what I’m trying to say.’
‘Look, Magnus. You’re going back to the States in the next few days. I would like to spend as much time as possible with you before you go. It’s simple. If you have a problem with that, just tell me, and I won’t waste my time. Do you have a problem with that?’
‘I…’
‘Don’t bother answering, because come to think of it, maybe I have a problem myself.’ She turned on her heel.
‘Ingileif!’
‘Men are such jerks,’ she muttered as she stalked back to her flat.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
‘Not another fucking elf!’
Baldur stared at Magnus in disbelief. Magnus had dragged him out of the interview room where he was still working on Tomas. He was unhappy to be interrupted, but reluctantly led Magnus along to his office. He listened closely as Magnus described his interview with the Reverend Hakon and with the sheep farmers, but began to lose patience once Magnus related the old man’s story about trolls and rings and the hidden man he had seen.
‘I’m supposed to be the old-fashioned one around here. And then I have to listen to this elf and troll bullshit!’
‘Obviously, it wasn’t an elf,’ said Magnus. ‘It was Tomas. He was a tall thirteen-year-old.’
‘And the ring? Are you trying to tell me that the pastor was wearing an ancient ring belonging to Odin or Thor or someone?’
‘I don’t know whether the ring is authentic,’ said Magnus. ‘And frankly, I don’t care. The point is that seventeen years ago a small group of people did think it was important. Important enough to kill for.’
‘Oh, so now we’re solving another crime, are we? A death in 1992. Except this wasn’t a crime, it was an accident. There was an investigation: we know it was an accident.’
Magnus leaned back in his chair. ‘Let me talk to Tomas.’
‘No.’
‘I spoke to his father.’
Baldur shook his head. ‘Vigdis should have spotted they were father and son.’
‘Hakon isn’t such an uncommon name,’ Magnus said. ‘We must have interviewed dozens of witnesses; I’ll bet at least five of them have the same first names as someone else’s last name. She didn’t know Tomas had spent his childhood in Fludir, so there was no obvious connection.’
‘She should have checked,’ Baldur insisted.
Baldur might have had a point, but Magnus didn’t want to dwell on it. ‘I can tell Tomas the farmers saw him in the snowstorm. I can convince him that we know he was there.’
‘I said, no.’
They sat in silence, staring at each other. Then Magnus smiled. ‘I know you and I haven’t started out very well together.’
‘You can say that again.’
‘But just give me twenty minutes. You can be there too. You’ll know if we’re making progress, if there’s an opening. If I get nowhere, then we’ve lost twenty minutes, that’s all.’
The corners of Baldur’s lips were turned down, scepticism was written all over his long face. But he was listening.
He took a deep breath. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Twenty minutes. Let’s go.’
Tomas Hakonarson looked exhausted, as did his lawyer, a mousy woman of about thirty.
Baldur introduced Magnus. Tomas’s tired eyes assessed him.
‘Don’t worry, I don’t want to talk to you about Agnar,’ Magnus began.
‘Good,’ said Tomas.
‘It’s another murder I want to discuss with you. One that took place seventeen years ago.’
Tomas was suddenly awake, his eyes focusing on Magnus.
‘Know whose murder I’m talking about?’
Tomas remained motionless. Magnus felt that he wasn’t trusting himself to speak. A good sign.
‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘Dr Asgrimur. Seventeen years ago your father pushed Dr Asgrimur off a cliff. And you witnessed it.’
Tomas swallowed. ‘I don’t know what you are talking about.’
‘I’ve just come back from Hruni where I interviewed your father. And I went to Alfabrekka and spoke to the farmers who helped him go back and find Dr Asgrimur. They saw you.’