Meltwater (Fire and Ice)

just outside those toilets there.’ Mikael Már pointed to a sizeable wooden hut. ‘I waited for Pierre. The man was parked just up here on the left.’
Mikael Már indicated a strip of grass on the edge of the access road with a good view of the highway.
    Magnus pulled over. ‘Show me.’
    They walked on about thirty yards. ‘I’m not sure where it was precisely. About here, perhaps? He was leaning against the bonnet of his jeep.’
    Mikael Már hesitated.
    ‘Yes?’ said Magnus. ‘Take your time.’ Memories couldn’t always be rushed.
    ‘He was checking his phone. And then checking the road. Concentrating, you know?’
    ‘I know. OK, if you don’t mind waiting here, I’ll take a look.’
    Magnus put on gloves, took out tweezers and some small plastic evidence bags, and bent down. It was a long shot, it was always a long shot, but you never knew. Fortunately this part of the
access road was a fair distance from the waterfall and the car park. Not the kind of place most tourists would park. Which meant if Magnus did find something, there was a good chance that it might
be connected to the mysterious man in the red jacket.
    He had covered about twenty yards. Nothing. He stood up and turned towards Mikael Már to ask him if it was worth going on further, when he saw a police jeep cruising towards them, its
blue light flashing.
    He stood up and trotted over to the vehicle.
    An officer got out of the car – Magnus didn’t recognize him.
    He pulled out his badge. ‘Magnús. Reykjavík CID,’ he said. ‘I’m investigating the Fimmvörduháls murder.’
    ‘Might be an idea to do that some other time,’ said the policeman. ‘We’re evacuating the area.’
    ‘Any sign of a jökulhlaup ?’
    ‘One has been reported on the north side of the glacier,’ said the policeman. ‘It’s flowing down into the Markarfljót right now. But there might be another one on
this side of the glacier any time.’
    Mikael Már looked up at the waterfall. ‘Could it come down there?’
    The policeman shrugged. ‘Maybe. I’d say this isn’t an intelligent place to be right now. And we are expecting ash fall tonight.’
    ‘Ash?’
    ‘Yeah. Apparently this thing is throwing ash kilometres up into the sky. Lots of it. And it’s going to come down soon.’
    ‘And cover up any evidence,’ said Magnus.
    Overhead, thick moisture pressed down upon them. Magnus glanced over towards the north-west, where Eyjafjallajökull lurked beneath its grey cloak of clouds. He had been considering trying
to persuade Mikael Már to go back up the glacier and show him exactly where he had seen the Suzuki Vitara parked on Fimmvörduháls. But now it didn’t really seem like such a
smart idea.
    There was a deep boom and the ground shook.
    ‘Hear that?’ said Mikael Már.
    ‘So, I suggest you leave,’ said the policeman. Forceful but polite. ‘And head east, not west.’
    ‘But how will I get back to Reykjavík?’ said Magnus. There was no other route to the west, unless you followed the Ring Road anti-clockwise around the whole island. A couple
of days’ drive. Or took an airplane from somewhere in the east.
    ‘I know. I live in Hvolsvöllur,’ said the cop. ‘Somehow I don’t think I’m going to be home for supper tonight.’
    ‘OK. I’ll pack up here and be right along,’ said Magnus.
    The policeman drove off. Magnus returned to the patch of ground he had been examining.
    ‘Come on, Magnús, let’s go!’ said Mikael Már.
    ‘Is there any way your guy might have been parked a bit further along?’
    ‘No. Let’s go!’
    Magnus didn’t believe him. He had spotted some scraps of litter on the grass verge forty yards away, and, abandoning his methodical search, went over to take a closer look. A piece of
chewing-gum wrapping and a cigarette butt. And another piece of paper ground into the dirt.
    Magnus picked it up with tweezers and examined it. It was a receipt. Part of it had faded. But he could read the words Caffè Nero and Heathrow Terminal One . Dated 11
April 2010. Timed 12:17. Server’s name Rosa. 1 latte £2.10.
    With a grin, Magnus slipped the receipt into his evidence bag. He collected the chewing-gum wrapper and the cigarette butt for good measure. He spent a further couple of minutes checking the
immediate vicinity of the spot where he found the receipt, but then gave up.
    Perhaps it was a good idea to leave the scene.
    Mikael Már was looking distinctly anxious as Magnus joined him in the