Where the Shadows Lie (Fire and Ice)

ring?’

CHAPTER THIRTY
    ‘W ELL DONE,’ SAID Baldur as they left the interview room and walked rapidly towards his office. He didn’t smile, he didn’t even look at Magnus, but Magnus knew he meant it.
    ‘Shall we go arrest Hákon?’ Magnus asked.
    ‘We’ll get the Selfoss police to arrest him and bring him here for interview,’ said Baldur. ‘They’ll get there more quickly. And I’ll ask them to search for that damned ring.’ He paused as he reached the door to his office. ‘I’d like you to join me when they bring Hákon in.’
    ‘While you’re talking to the Selfoss police, can you ask them to check their reports on Dr Ásgrímur’s death in 1992?’ Magnus asked.
    Baldur hesitated, and then nodded curtly.
    When Magnus got back to his own desk, Árni was there, looking exhausted.
    ‘How’s the Gubernator?’ Magnus asked.
    ‘Very funny. I hear things have been happening back here.’
    ‘Baldur’s just sending the Selfoss police to arrest the pastor of Hruni now.’
    ‘Do you think he killed Agnar?’
    ‘Him or Tómas,’ said Magnus. ‘We’ll find out which pretty soon.’
    ‘So Isildur and Steve Jubb are innocent?’
    ‘Looks like it,’ said Magnus. And he explained all that had happened while Árni had been thirty-five thousand feet up in the air.
    Magnus was expecting to wait three hours before Hákon was brought in, but it was less than an hour before Baldur strode into the room, his face like thunder.
    ‘He’s gone,’ he said.
    ‘Has he taken his car?’ Magnus asked.
    ‘Of course he has.’
    ‘And the ring?’
    ‘Gone as well. If it ever existed.’
    It had been a frustrating twenty-four hours for Isildur. He was beginning to have his doubts about Axel, the PI he had hired. Pétur Ásgrímsson had been spectacularly unhelpful, his sister Ingileif seemed to have disappeared off the face of the earth and Axel hadn’t succeeded in finding out very much from his supposed contacts in the police. Tómas Hákonarson was under arrest for the murder of Agnar, there was evidence that he had been at Lake Thingvellir on the night in question, but the police were dismissing rumours of magic rings as mythology.
    Morons!
    He and Gimli were waiting in the Hótel Borg for a call from Axel. In separate rooms. Despite the fact that they had formed such a close bond in the virtual world, in the real one they had little in common. Isildur was rereading the Volsung Saga and Gimli was watching repeats of a handball match. He had explained that whenever he went to a foreign country he liked to watch the local sports on TV.
    Isildur’s cell phone rang. He checked the caller ID. It was Axel.
    ‘I’ve found her,’ the PI said.
    ‘Where is she?’
    ‘At her apartment.’
    ‘Great! Let’s go talk to her.’
    ‘I’ll pick you up in five minutes.’
    Isildur summoned Gimli and they waited outside the hotel. The square was empty, other than the pigeons. The parliament building squatted on the south side, a tough building made of blackened stone. It was slightly smaller than the branch of Isildur’s local bank in Trinity County, and stood next to what must have been the tiniest cathedral in the world.
    Axel drew up in his old banger and they crammed inside. They were soon outside Ingileif’s building. Once again, Isildur took the lead and rang the bell.
    A pretty blonde woman answered the door with half a smile.
    ‘Hi,’ said Isildur, confident by now that a young Icelander would speak English. ‘My name’s Lawrence Feldman. I’m the guy who was all set to buy your saga. Can we come in?’
    The half smile disappeared. ‘No you may not,’ said Ingileif. ‘Go away. I want nothing to do with you.’
    ‘I would still be willing to pay a very good price for the saga, Miss Ásgrímsdóttir.’
    ‘I’m not going to discuss it with you.’
    Isildur persisted. ‘And if by any chance you know of the where-abouts of the ring itself, I will pay you for that information. Or for the ring, if you have it.’
    ‘Fuck off,’ said Ingileif in crisp English, and slammed the door in his face.
    ‘Funny. That’s exactly what her brother said,’ said Gimli with a chuckle.
    But Isildur did not see the funny side. He had been hoping for a breakthrough from Ingileif. In his experience, if you waved enough money, you could usually get what you wanted.
    But not necessarily in Iceland, it seemed.
    They crossed the street, back to the car.
    ‘What now?’ asked Gimli.
    ‘Do you know much about