The Polar Bear Killing

Chapter seven

‘Hi, Vigdís!’

Vigdís looked up from her paperwork to see the large familiar figure of Magnus grinning at her. She grinned back.

‘You made it!’

‘This is not an easy place to get to. I ended up flying to Akureyri and borrowing one of their cars to drive the rest of the way.’

‘At least the weather’s not too bad this time of year,’ she said. ‘The town can be completely cut off in winter.’

Magnus scanned the tiny police station. Two uniformed policemen were also working in there. They nodded a greeting to him.

‘Is Ólafur here?’

‘He’s gone for a run. He could be ages. That man is super fit.’

‘What’s he like?’ Magnus asked.

Vigdís glanced quickly at the officers around them. ‘Old school.’

‘Well, since he isn’t here, why don’t you tell me what’s been going on?’

‘All right,’ said Vigdís. ‘Do you want to take a walk? See the sights of Raufarhöfn?’

‘Sure, why not?’ said Magnus. ‘I’ve been cooped up in the car for three hours.’

So they left the police station and strolled through the town towards the harbour. The wind had died down, the evening sun was on their faces, and it was almost warm. They found a wall by the harbour. In front of them a fisherman was loading a very large net on to a very small boat.

‘What happened, Vigdís?’

‘I don’t know. I was just stupid.’

‘But why?’

‘I don’t know that either. I was free of worrying about Mum for a few days. I was lonely.’ Vigdís really didn’t want to mention the drink. She was too ashamed. ‘It feels like you are a long way from real life out here. I was so stupid.’

‘Yeah,’ said Magnus. They sat in companionable silence for a moment. ‘It’s the kind of stupid thing I would do.’

Vigdís smiled. ‘That’s no recommendation, is it?’

‘No,’ said Magnus. ‘Definitely not.’

‘My career is screwed now.’

‘Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows? Has Ólafur made an official complaint to Thorkell yet?’

‘Not yet, but he will. He’s told Baldur, and Baldur will tell his cronies. I don’t think he has told any of the other police officers here.’

‘That’s something,’ said Magnus.

Vigdís snorted. She would be a laughing stock back in Reykjavík once everyone found out. ‘It is the kind of thing you would do, isn’t it?’

Magnus nodded. ‘Is he a nice guy, at least?’

‘Martin? I think so. That is if he isn’t a cop killer after all.’

Magnus frowned, as if struck by a thought. ‘Does he speak Icelandic?’

‘No,’ said Vigdís.

‘Do you speak English to him? Or are you a secret German speaker?’

‘He speaks English to me,’ said Vigdís. ‘And I sort of reply back.’

‘Sounds like a perfect relationship.’

‘I know,’ said Vigdís. ‘It’s ridiculous. But I do sort of like him. I am such an idiot.’

Magnus smiled at her. It wasn’t that he disagreed with her; her idiocy was incontrovertible. But he was on her side. They both knew he could be an idiot from time to time too.

They watched the fisherman tidy up the net and lock the boat cabin. He nodded to the two detectives and headed back to the warmth of his home. Presumably he would be out at sea again early the next morning.

‘OK,’ Magnus said. ‘Tell me about the case.’

Vigdís was glad to go over the investigation with Magnus; it straightened it all in her mind. Magnus listened quietly for the most part, just asking the odd question to clarify things.

‘So there we are,’ she finished. ‘If the ballistics report comes back tomorrow with confirmation that Halldór was shot by his own rifle, we have pretty much got Gudrún.’

Magnus sat silently, his hands thrust into the pockets of his coat.

‘Magnús?’ Vigdís said. ‘What is it?’

‘Do you think it will? Confirm that the bullet came from Halldór’s rifle?’

‘Yes,’ said Vigdís. ‘Yes, I do.’

‘You said Gudrún denied killing her father,’ he said at last. ‘How did she seem?’

‘At the end of her rope. She just broke down. She answered our questions quietly, with tears streaming down her cheeks. It was hard to read her: I couldn’t tell whether she was upset because of all the pressure of the last few days, or whether she couldn’t face what she had done. Inspector Ólafur was sure she was guilty.’

‘And what about you? What was your instinct?’

Vigdís hesitated. She wanted to believe that Gudrún was guilty. She wanted to believe that Martin was innocent. But... ‘My instinct? I’m not sure.’

Magnus looked at her steadily. He raised his eyebrows. ‘I know you, Vigdís. Not being sure isn’t your style.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I think your gut feel is that she’s innocent and you don’t want to admit it.’

‘Magnús, that’s ridiculous! We are detectives. We deal in evidence.’

‘We deal in people,’ said Magnus. ‘It takes a certain kind of daughter to shoot out the eye of her father. I’ve met one or two of that kind of woman in America. But none in Iceland that I can think of.’

‘So are you saying Martin or Alex shot him? Or Sveinn? He wasn’t even in Raufarhöfn.’

‘No.’ Magnus was quiet for a couple of minutes, staring at the fishing boats bobbing gently by the quayside. Vigdís let him think. ‘Has it rained since Halldór was murdered?’

‘No,’ Vigdís said.

‘Good,’ said Magnus. ‘I’ll go to bed now. I won’t wait for Ólafur — I’d like to delay talking to him if I can. But we’ll meet downstairs in the hotel lobby at five tomorrow morning to take a look at the crime scene. I think I’d like to find out a bit more before I report to him.’