Meltwater (Fire and Ice)

asked.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘In English?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘What kind of accent did he have?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ said Magnus. It was a good question. ‘He only said a few words.’ Magnus closed his eyes trying to remember. ‘It was foreign – I mean he
wasn’t a native English speaker. And definitely not Icelandic or Germanic. Could have been Italian . . . French . . . Spanish, something like that.’
    ‘Israeli?’
    ‘I guess. I’m not really sure what an Israeli accent sounds like.’
    ‘Did he look like a professional killer?’ Vigdís asked.
    Magnus remembered the manic eyes. The failure to cut Erika’s throat when he had her in his grasp.
    ‘No. No, I don’t think so, but we shouldn’t rule it out. He could be an idealist. And we know he’s capable of killing. Whatever he is, he’s still out there. We
ought to increase the police presence at the house on Thórsgata.’
    The uniformed inspector nodded. ‘I’ll do that.’
    ‘Now. Let’s go through all the possible suspects again.’
    They spent an hour going through Israelis, Italians, Canadians driving Suzuki Vitara rental cars, US college fraternities, Mikael Már and his French business client, Teresa, the
inhabitants of the house. There were leads to follow up: an Israeli tourist unaccounted for, last seen in the east of Iceland. And leads to drop: the group of Italians who had stayed at the Hotel
Rangá were having dinner there the moment Nico was attacked. There was plenty to do and not enough people to do it. Vigdís wasn’t there – her flight to Paris was that
afternoon. Magnus could have used her.
    ‘Did you check out the café receipt at Heathrow, Árni?’
    ‘The receipt was timed at 12:17 and there was an Icelandair flight departing from that terminal at 13:00.’
    ‘Anyone interesting on the flight?’
    ‘Nico Andreose was the only member of the Freeflow team. It was Sunday; presumably he flew over earlier than the others.’
    ‘I wonder if he recognized the killer?’ Magnus said.
    Árni pondered Magnus’s question. ‘I suppose he might have done. He might even have chatted to him – since there was no one else from Freeflow on the plane we
wouldn’t know.’
    ‘Yes. It’s worth checking whether he mentioned anything to the rest of the team later. You know: “Guess who I saw on the plane yesterday?” What about Israelis?
Italians?’
    ‘No Israelis. Apart from Nico there was one Italian couple, but they were in their sixties.’ Árni checked his notes. ‘Mostly Icelanders, quite a few British, three US
citizens, then a couple of Canadians, French, Belgian, Japanese, Thai, Irish. No real lead that I could see.’
    Magnus was disappointed, especially given the risks he had taken to find the damn receipt.
    ‘I checked the Skull and Bones society on the Freeflow website,’ Árni said.
    ‘And?’
    ‘Nothing. Nothing from Yale at all.’
    ‘Check Ohio State,’ said Magnus, thinking of Franz, who had said he’d spent a year there. Although he doubted very much that a year in Columbus, Ohio would inspire enough
loyalty in the young Swiss to kill.
    ‘What about the CIA?’ Árni asked.
    The whole room looked at Magnus. He hadn’t told any of them about his meeting with Bryant, and he didn’t intend to. The CIA had an agenda and Magnus had no idea what it really was.
He had had few dealings with the agency in the States. The FBI, all the time. Homeland Security occasionally; there was no predicting what they might get up to once they had an idea in their
heads. But not the CIA.
    ‘I’ll think about that one,’ said Magnus.
    ‘Do you want me to make inquiries with the American Embassy?’ said Thorkell.
    ‘Yes,’ said Magnus. ‘I’m not sure they’ll tell you anything, but they might.’ Bryant had suggested that the CIA had been in touch with the Icelandic
government for its help in impeding Freeflow’s activities. Clearly Thorkell knew nothing of that. But it would be useful if he could unearth the Icelanders’ side of the story.
    ‘What about Teresa?’ Baldur asked.
    Magnus suppressed a flash or irritation. ‘I interviewed her briefly yesterday.’
    ‘And?’
    ‘She’s angry about her husband. Angry with her husband, that’s for sure. And with Erika. Understandably.’
    ‘Very understandably,’ said Baldur. ‘Did she pay someone to kill them?’
    Magnus swallowed. ‘I didn’t ask her.’
    ‘Shouldn’t you have?’
    ‘Yes,’ Magnus said. ‘Yes, of course.’ Baldur was