Meltwater (Fire and Ice)

you know about Israel?’ Erika said.
    ‘The press,’ Magnus replied. ‘They asked you about Israel and you evaded the question.’
    ‘So?’
    ‘So it means that we have had to check on every Israeli that was in Iceland the day Nico was killed.’
    ‘And what if I were to tell you that what we are working on has nothing to do with Israel?’
    ‘Then I wouldn’t believe you,’ said Magnus.
    Erika shrugged. ‘OK – that’s your problem. But we have a deal: leave us alone.’
    ‘I’m suggesting another deal. Or shall we call it an appendix to the original deal?’
    ‘No new deals,’ said Erika. ‘I am going to call Viktor.’
    ‘Sure, you can do that if you want. But look at it from my point of view. A murder has been committed and a possible line of inquiry is Israel. I have to investigate that now, whatever you
say, even if you say nothing. Now, I can do this noisily – talk to the consulate, call the Israeli police, their secret service, make an appeal on TV. Or I can do this quietly. Which I am
prepared to do, if you tell me what you are working on and who it might piss off.’
    Erika picked up a table knife and fiddled with it. Magnus and Rannveig waited.
    Her eyes flicked up towards him. Magnus was struck again by their intensity. ‘You promise me you have no connection to the CIA?’
    ‘None whatsoever.’
    ‘And you won’t discuss what you see with the Israeli authorities?’
    Magnus hesitated.
    ‘Well?’
    ‘I don’t want to make a promise I can’t keep,’ Magnus said. ‘I certainly won’t contact them now. If we find a genuine suspect, we may need to talk to the
Israelis. It would be impossible to arrest an Israeli citizen without that.’
    Erika blew air through her cheeks. ‘OK. OK. Let me get my computer.’
    She grabbed a small netbook computer and opened it up on the kitchen table. Magnus and Rannveig watched as a grey image flickered into life. As the death of Tamara Wilton and her colleagues
unfolded, Erika gave a rough translation of the radio traffic.
    It took sixteen minutes. When the video footage eventually froze at its end, both Magnus and Rannveig were still staring at the screen.
    ‘So what do you think?’ Erika asked.
    ‘I think it’s appalling,’ said Magnus. ‘Especially when you hear the radio commentary.’
    ‘So do we. That’s why we want to publish it.’
    ‘Is it genuine?’ Rannveig asked.
    ‘We think so. But we’re not one-hundred-per-cent sure yet. That’s part of what we are doing here. Verifying it.’
    ‘Who did it come from?’ Magnus asked.
    ‘We don’t know,’ said Erika. ‘That’s the whole point of Freeflow. Our sources’ identities are protected: even we don’t know who they are.’
    ‘Does the Israeli government know about this?’
    ‘We don’t think so. But of course the press seemed to know. How they got it is a mystery. It worries me.’
    It didn’t worry Magnus, of course, but despite Erika’s candour he had his own sources to protect.
    ‘OK. Well, thank you, Erika. As I promised, we will leave you alone. And we will investigate as quietly as we can.’
    ‘Are you making progress?’
    ‘Some. We can rule the snowmobilers out. But there does seem to have been another jeep up on the mountain, a black Suzuki Vitara, driven by a guy in a red ski jacket. Do you remember
seeing him, or his vehicle?’
    ‘No,’ said Erika. ‘Unless of course he was the man who attacked us. You think he might be, don’t you?’
    ‘That’s the most likely theory at the moment.’
    ‘Wait. I think I do remember noticing headlights behind us on the way up the glacier. The other jeep with the couple in were ahead of us, weren’t they? So if there was someone
following us, it could be your guy. You should ask Dúddi – he was driving our jeep.’
    ‘I’ll do that.’
    Just then the door opened and Ásta walked in, followed by a tall woman dressed in an expensive cream leather jacket, designer jeans and high black leather boots. She had long brown hair;
her face was lined, her eyes dark under her make-up.
    Erika got up from the kitchen table and moved over to her, holding out her arms. ‘Teresa! I am so sorry.’
    The room was silent. The woman stopped a few paces away from Erika. Her face was ravaged with emotion; she was shaking with the tension.
    Erika took a step forward, her arms still outstretched.
    ‘Keep away from me, you whore!’ the Italian woman roared. Erika took a step back.
    ‘I know all about you and Nico.