Whale Fjord

Twenty-Nine

Ingileif was already waiting for Magnus, sitting on a low wall outside the Höfdi House, a small white mansion that stood beside the bay. It was eight-thirty and Magnus had driven the short distance from police headquarters.

It was a fine, clear night, cool, but not cold. A half-moon illuminated the broad shoulders of Esja on the other side of the fjord. The dim shapes of ducks floated quietly in the gently lapping water. Lights of small craft glimmered in the bay.

‘I heard you on the radio,’ she said. ‘Any luck catching the murderer?’

‘I think so. We’ll find out tomorrow.’

‘Why drag me here?’

Magnus sat down next to her. ‘You know why. This is where we first met.’

The Höfdi House was a solid white wooden building that had been lifted out of a bourgeois northern European suburb where it would have blended in nicely, and dumped in a treeless settlement built of corrugated metal and concrete, where it became the grandest place in town. As such it had famously played host to Reagan and Gorbachev in the 1980s.

‘Where we second met,’ said Ingileif. ‘We first met in my gallery when you interviewed me.’

‘You know what I mean.’ After that first interview, fourteen years ago, just after Magnus had arrived as a detective in Iceland, Ingileif had called him and asked him to meet her right there, at the Höfdi House. She had given him vital information relating to the murder of a professor he was investigating.

More importantly for both of them, it was the beginning of something. The beginning of what was not yet, even now, completely clear.

‘Perhaps I do.’

‘I have two things to talk to you about.’

‘You sound very serious.’

‘Perhaps I am.’

‘What things?’

Magnus took a deep breath. ‘I need to tell you about Erla.’

‘Oh,’ said Ingileif. ‘You do.’ Magnus could hear the nervousness in her words.

‘You’re right, Erla looks a lot like Ási.’

‘I knew it!’ said Ingileif, her body stiffening, bitterness flooding her voice.

‘Wait a moment,’ said Magnus. ‘Hear me out.’

Ingileif didn’t reply. But she waited.

‘They look similar because they’re cousins.’

‘Cousins?’ Ingileif frowned. ‘What does that mean, Magnús? How can they be cousins?’

Magnus waited. He wanted Ingileif to answer her own question.

The Höfdi House was floodlit, and Magnus could see Ingileif’s expression quite clearly in the reflection from its white walls.

Her face lightened for a moment in understanding and then darkened.

‘You’re telling me that the father is Ollie? Your brother?’

Magnus nodded.

‘And you expect me to believe that?’

‘Yes,’ said Magnus. ‘You remember how he came over here in the summer of 2021? How Vigdís and I went out with him and his friends?’

‘Yes, of course I do. That’s when I thought you and Vigdís slept together. When Erla was conceived.’

‘She was conceived that night. But it was Ollie, not me, who slept with Vigdís.’

‘Why would Vigdís sleep with your brother? He’s a scumbag.’

‘I’m not entirely sure. I wondered the same myself. I asked her, eventually. She said she was drunk. He was drunk. He’s a good-looking scumbag, which I suppose is true. But most importantly, he wasn’t going to be hanging around Iceland; he would be gone and out of her life in the morning.’

‘She intended to get pregnant?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t asked her. Maybe.’

‘Does Ollie know?’

‘No. And Vigdís is hoping he’ll never find out. I only discovered it six months ago when I noticed how similar Erla and Ási were. I did the maths and realized she was conceived when Ollie was in Iceland. I was pretty drunk myself that night, but I remembered that when we all broke up at the end of the evening I kind of left Ollie and Vigdís together. I asked her whether they’d slept together and eventually she admitted it. She made me promise I wouldn’t tell anyone, including you.’

Ingileif shook her head. ‘I can’t believe it.’

Magnus took her hand and squeezed it. ‘Please believe it.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’

‘Vigdís swore me to secrecy. I keep my word.’

‘But you knew how upset I was. How upset I am.’

‘I know. That’s why I’m telling you now. I warned her I would.’

‘What did she say?’

‘I think she’s more worried about what she’s going to do about her mother at the moment.’

Magnus could see the glimmer of a tear in Ingileif’s eyes. ‘I’m afraid to believe you, Magnús.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean, if you are lying to me now, I’d feel such a fool.’

‘I’m not lying.’

‘It’s kind of obvious that you slept with Vigdís. That Erla is your daughter. It’s not obvious that Vigdís slept with Ollie.’

‘Isn’t it? Because that’s what happened.’

‘God,’ said Ingileif. ‘Who knew this monogamy would be so hard?’

‘It works for me,’ said Magnus.

‘I guess it works for me too,’ said Ingileif.

‘Do you believe me?’

Ingileif looked out over sparkles of moonlight on the dark bay. Magnus waited, his heart pounding.

In the end, she nodded. ‘Yes, Magnús. Yes, I believe you.’

Magnus exhaled. ‘Good,’ he said. ‘In that case, there’s something else I want to talk to you about.’

‘Oh God, Magnús. I hope it’s not as difficult as that was.’

‘So do I.’ Magnus smiled. ‘Will you marry me?’