Meltwater (Fire and Ice)

you saying?’ said Baldur. ‘A bishop in the Church of Iceland? You should be ashamed of yourself for even asking the question.’
    Baldur’s expression was deadpan, but Magnus was pretty sure he was being ironic. ‘Anyone else come forward?’
    ‘There were rumours. But after what had happened to the first two women, if there were any others, they were reluctant to speak out.’
    ‘So no hard evidence?’
    ‘Until now,’ said Baldur, tapping the journal with his gloved finger. ‘And if this girl really did kill herself like she said she was going to . . .’
    ‘All hell will break loose. Árni’s checking the records now. Shall we go and see our friend Egill?’
    The pastor was standing anxiously outside the church, talking to curious neighbours, and watching the forensics people at work.
    Baldur led him into his office in the church, a small room with a computer, a filing cabinet and a shelf full of religious texts. Wonky, highly coloured images of Jesus at work looked down at
them, produced by someone who fancied himself as a twenty-first-century Icelandic El Greco, no doubt.
    Egill sat behind his desk, picked up a pencil and began to fiddle with it. Magnus and Baldur took two chairs opposite.
    ‘What did you say Ásta wanted to talk to you about?’ Baldur asked.
    ‘Her career,’ the pastor said uncertainly. ‘Her next job.’
    ‘You’re lying.’
    ‘No, I’m not,’ squeaked the pastor. He was clearly an honest man, Magnus thought. He was such a bad liar.
    ‘Have you seen this before?’ Baldur said, opening up the diary and showing it to Egill.
    The pastor reached out to take it.
    ‘Don’t touch it!’ Baldur snapped. ‘It’s evidence.’ Baldur was still wearing his blue gloves.
    The pastor whipped back his hand as if it had been burned. ‘No, I’ve never seen it before.’
    ‘Ásta didn’t show it to you? Last night?’
    ‘No,’ said Egill. He looked afraid now. ‘No, she didn’t. Is it hers? Am I in it?’
    Baldur frowned. ‘No, it isn’t hers, as you know very well.’
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Egill, a bit bolder now. ‘Then whose is it?’
    ‘A girl called Soffía. She would be a woman now. If she were still alive.’
    Egill looked confused. ‘Was she a friend of Ásta’s?’
    ‘Probably,’ said Baldur. ‘Are you sure you have never heard of her?’
    ‘Quite sure,’ said Egill.
    Magnus believed him. ‘Did Ásta ever talk about a friend of hers who worked for the Bishop? Not the current one, the old one.’
    ‘No,’ said Egill. ‘No, she didn’t.’
    ‘Or someone who had been sexually harassed by the Bishop?’
    Egill’s mouth opened. He slumped back in his chair. ‘Is that what that journal says?’
    ‘It certainly does,’ said Baldur. ‘It looks like the old pervert is going to be nailed after all. Just a pity he isn’t around to see it.’
    ‘He wasn’t a pervert,’ said Egill without conviction.
    ‘Wasn’t he?’
    Egill didn’t answer. ‘What are you going to do with it?’ he said.
    ‘Read it. Transcribe it. It’s evidence in a murder inquiry.’
    Egill sat forward. ‘You don’t think Ásta’s death had something to do with that, do you?’
    ‘Don’t you?’
    ‘But that would mean . . . That would mean that someone in the Church had her killed to shut her up. That’s not possible!’
    ‘Isn’t it?’ said Baldur. Magnus was beginning to suspect that the inspector wasn’t a regular on Sundays at his local church.
    ‘No, it isn’t!’ said Egill, finally summoning some conviction. ‘It certainly isn’t possible.’
    ‘We can’t leap to conclusions quite yet about who killed Ásta,’ Magnus said. ‘But the fact we found this in Ásta’s room suggests that there might be a
link to her death. Doesn’t it?’
    ‘I don’t believe so,’ said Egill.
    ‘Well, we do,’ said Magnus. ‘So Ásta didn’t mention this at all in her conversation with you last night?’
    ‘No,’ said Egill.
    ‘Even indirectly?’
    Egill thought a moment. ‘No. No, she didn’t.’
    ‘Or at any time in the past few weeks?’
    Egill shook his head. ‘No.’
    ‘Do you believe that information given to a priest in confidence should remain confidential?’ Magnus asked.
    ‘Yes,’ said Egill slowly. ‘Yes, I do.’
    ‘Even when that information relates to a crime?’
    Egill took a deep breath. ‘Um. Yes, I do.’
    ‘Is that what you are doing in this case?’ Baldur asked. ‘Respecting confidential information?’
    Something in Egill