Where the Shadows Lie fai-1 Page 25

  At Ingileif’s direction, Magnus turned off the road and along a dirt track, winding up through the hills and into a small valley. His police-issued Skoda strained to maintain traction: the road was in poor condition and in places very steep. After a bone-rattling eight kilometres they finally came across a small white farm with a red roof nestling in the hillside at the head of its own little valley. Beneath the farm the obligatory lush green home meadow stretched down to a fast-flowing stream. The rest of the grass in the valley lurked brown and lacklustre, where it wasn’t still covered in snow.

  Alfabrekka.

  ‘“How fair the slopes are”,’ Ingileif said.

  Magnus smiled as he recognized the quotation from Njals Saga. He finished it: ‘“Fairer than they have ever seemed to me before”.’

  As they pulled into the farmyard, a thin, sprightly man in his mid-fifties marched towards them, wearing blue overalls.

  ‘Good morning!’ he said, smiling broadly, his body almost quivering with the excitement of receiving visitors. ‘How can I help you?’

  Bright blue eyes shone out of a pale and wrinkled face. Tufts of grey hair peaked out of his woolly cap.

  Ingileif took the lead, introducing herself and Magnus. ‘My father was Dr Asgrimur Hognason. You may remember him. He fell to his death near here in 1992.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I do remember that, very clearly,’ the farmer said. ‘You have my sympathy, even so many years later. But let’s not stand around out here. Come inside and have some coffee!’

  Inside, the farmer’s father and mother greeted them. The father, an impossibly wizened man, stirred himself from a comfortable armchair, while the mother busied herself with coffee and cakes. A stove warmed the living room, which was chock full of Icelandic knick-knacks, including at least four miniature Icelandic flags.

  And a giant high-definition television screen. Just to remind them that they were truly in Iceland.

  The younger farmer who had greeted them did most of the talking. His name was Adalsteinn. And before they could ask him any questions he told them about his parents, the fact that he himself was single, the fact that the farm had been in the family for generations, and particularly the fact that farming these days was tough, very tough indeed.

  The coffee was delicious, as were the cakes.

  ‘Adalsteinn, perhaps you could tell me what happened the day you found my father?’ Ingileif interrupted.

  Adalsteinn launched into a long description of how a frozen pastor had come to the door, and how he and his father had followed the pastor back to the place where Asgrimur had fallen. The doctor was definitely dead and very cold. There were no signs of a struggle or foul play, it was quite clear where he had fallen. The police hadn’t asked any particular questions suggesting they suspected anything other than an accident.

  During all this, the farmer’s mother added certain helpful embellishments and corrected the odd detail, but the old man sat in his chair, silent, watching and listening.

  Magnus and Ingileif stood up, and were taking their leave when he spoke for the first time. ‘Tell them about the hidden man, Steini.’

  ‘The hidden man?’ Magnus looked sharply at the old man and then at the younger farmer.

  ‘I will, Father. I’ll tell them outside.’

  Adalsteinn ushered Magnus and Ingileif out into the yard.

  ‘What hidden man?’ said Magnus.

  ‘Father has seen the huldufolk all his life,’ Adalsteinn said. ‘There are a few who live around here, according to him. Have done for generations. You know how it is?’ His friendly face examined Magnus, looking for signs of disdain.

  ‘I know how it is,’ said Magnus. Alfabrekka meant ‘Elf Slope’ after all. There was some discussion in Iceland as to the precise differences between elves and hidden people, but this place was probably teeming with both races. What should he expect? ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well, he says he saw a young hidden man scurry by on the far side of the valley an hour before the pastor arrived.’

  ‘A hidden man? How does he know it wasn’t a human?’

  ‘Well, he and my mother decided it was a hidden man, because the pastor was wearing an old gold ring.’

  ‘A ring?’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t see it, but they took off his gloves to get his hands warm, and he was wearing it.’

  ‘And what has that to do with hidden people?’

  Adalsteinn took a deep breath. ‘There is an old local legend about a wedding ring. Thorgerd, the farmer’s daughter of Alfa-brekka, was tending her sheep on the high pastures when she was approached by a handsome young hidden man. He took her away and married her. The farmer was angry, searched for Thorgerd and killed her. Then he chased after the hidden man. The hidden man concealed the wedding ring in a cave guarded by the hound of a troll. The farmer went to look for the ring but the troll killed him and ate him. Then there was a great eruption from Hekla and the farm was buried in ash.’

  Magnus was impressed by how far Gaukur’s Saga had been mangled over the generations. The basic elements were still there, though: the ring, the cave, the troll’s hound. ‘So your father thinks that the hidden man was looking for the pastor?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  ‘And what do you think?’

  The farmer shrugged. ‘I don’t know. He told the police, who didn’t take any notice. No one else had seen a young man on the hills. There was no reason for a young man to go out in a snow-storm. I don’t know.’

  ‘Do you mind if we go back and ask your father about the hidden man?’

  ‘Be my guest,’ said the farmer.

  The old man was still in his armchair while his wife was tidying up the coffee cups.

  ‘Your son tells me that the pastor was wearing a ring?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ said the old man’s wife.

  ‘What kind of ring?’

  ‘It was dark, dirty but you could see it was gold under the dirt. It must have been very old.’

  ‘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.’

  ‘They can’t have done.’

  ‘They saw a thirteen-year-old boy sneak by their farm in the snow.’

  Tomas frowned. ‘That wasn’t me.’

  ‘Wasn’t it?’

  ‘Anyway. Why would my father kill the doctor? They were friends.’

  Magnus smiled. ‘The ring.’

  ‘What ring?’

  ‘The ring you went to talk to Professor Agnar about.’

  ‘I have no idea what you are talking about.’

  Magnus leaned forward. He spoke in a low urgent voice, only a fraction above a whisper. ‘You see, the farmers saw your father wearing an ancient ring. We know that your father pushed Dr Asgrimur off a cliff and took the ring. You witnessed it and ran away.’

  ‘Has he admitted it?’ Tomas asked.

  Magnus could see that the instant he had uttered it, Tomas regretted his question, with its implication that there was something to admit.

  ‘He will. We are going to arrest him shortly.’

  He paused, watching Tomas as he fiddled with the empty coffee cup in front of him. ‘Tell us the truth, Tomas. You can stop protecting your father. It’s too late for that.’

  Tomas glanced at his lawyer, who was listening intently. ‘OK.’

  ‘Talk to me,’ said Magnus.

  Tomas took a deep breath. ‘I wasn’t there,’ he said. ‘I don’t know who your farmer witness saw, but it wasn’t me.’

  Magnus was tempted to argue, but held his tongue. Best to coax out the entirety of Tomas’s story and then pick holes in it.

  ‘I don’t even know for sure whether my father did kill him, I really don’t. But
I do know that he has the ring, Gaukur’s ring.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Magnus asked.

  ‘He told me. About five years later, when I was eighteen or so. He said that he was looking after it for me. He told me the whole story of the ring, how it was the very same ring of Andvari from the Volsung Saga, about how Isildur had taken it back to Iceland and how Gaukur had killed his brother for it, and had then hidden it. He showed it to me once.’

  ‘So you’ve actually seen it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Did he tell you how he got it?’

  Tomas hesitated. ‘Yes. Yes, he did. He said that he and Dr Asgrimur found it that weekend, and that Dr Asgrimur was wearing it when he fell off the cliff. He said that he had taken it off Dr Asgrimur’s finger.’

  ‘While he was lying dying at the bottom of the cliff?’

  Tomas shrugged. ‘I guess so. I don’t know. It was either then, or when he came back for him with the farmers and found him dead. But it would have been quite difficult to take the ring then, I would expect.’

  ‘Didn’t that shock you?’

  ‘Yes, it did.’ Tomas swallowed. ‘My father was always a bit strange. But he became much stranger after the doctor died. I was scared of him, in awe of him. I still am, if the truth be told. And, well…’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had done something awful like take a ring off a dying man’s finger.’

  ‘What about killing that man?’

  Tomas hesitated. Magnus glanced at Tomas’s lawyer. She was listening intently, but letting him speak. As far as she was concerned her client was going some way towards exonerating himself.

  Baldur was also listening closely, letting Magnus get on with it.

  Tomas took a deep breath. ‘Yes. Like killing the doctor.’

  ‘Did he admit he had done that?’

  ‘No, not at all. Never.’

  ‘But you suspect he did?’

  ‘Not at first,’ said Tomas. ‘It didn’t occur to me. I had always believed my father about everything. But then the suspicion did begin to nag at me. I hoped it wasn’t true, but I couldn’t help asking myself, what if Father had pushed the doctor?’