Where the Shadows Lie (Fire and Ice)

Agnar hadn’t got fixed, angry at the great big enormous hole in her life.
    Magnus felt for her, and for her two children. Whatever Agnar’s sins, whatever his infidelities, he hadn’t deserved to die.
    Yet another family blown apart by murder. Magnus had seen so many over the course of his career. And he did all he could for each and every one of them.
    Of course she hadn’t seen any bloody ring. He searched the house for possible hiding places, but found nothing. At eight o’clock he left, taking the bus back to the centre of Reykjavík. He hadn’t yet been allocated the use of a police-owned car, and he had left Árni behind.
    His conversation with Baldur had shaken him. He understood Baldur’s point, that was the trouble. He couldn’t figure out how Steve Jubb could have murdered Agnar and disposed of his body without getting his feet dirty.
    But he just couldn’t accept that Jubb had gone to see Agnar about a secret multi-million dollar deal, and then Agnar had been murdered for some totally unrelated reason a couple of hours later.
    His intuition told him that just didn’t make sense. And, like Baldur, he trusted his intuition.
    He stopped off at the Krambúd convenience store opposite the Hallgrímskirkja, and bought himself a Thai curry to heat up. When he got back to Katrín’s house, he shoved it in to the microwave.
    ‘How are you feeling?’
    He turned around to see the landlady of the house making her way to the refrigerator. She was speaking English. She took out a skyr and opened it.
    ‘So so.’
    ‘Quite a night last night.’
    ‘Thank you for getting me into bed,’ said Magnus. He meant it, although he would rather have avoided the subject. He had had enough humiliation for one day.
    ‘No problem,’ said Katrín smiling. ‘You were very sweet. Just before you went to sleep you gave me a cute little smile, and said “You’re under arrest.” Then you fell asleep.’
    ‘Oh, Jeez.’
    ‘Don’t worry. You will probably have to do the same for me one day.’
    She leaned back against the fridge, eating her yoghurt. She had a couple fewer studs in her face than she had the first night Magnus had met her. She was wearing black jeans and a T-shirt emblazoned with an image of a wolf’s jaws. The microwave pinged and Magnus extracted his dinner, tipped it out on to a plate, and began to eat. ‘I don’t usually get that drunk.’
    ‘I really don’t mind. Just as long as you are careful where you throw up. And you clean it up afterwards.’
    Magnus grimaced. ‘I will. I promise.’
    Katrín examined him. ‘Are you really a policeman?’
    ‘Matter of fact I am.’
    ‘What are you doing in Iceland?’
    ‘Helping out.’
    Katrín ate some more of her skyr. ‘You see, the thing is, I don’t like my little brother spying on me.’
    ‘I’m not surprised,’ said Magnus. ‘Don’t worry. I’m not officially a signed-up member of the Reykjavík Metropolitan Police. I’m not going to tell anyone what you’re up to.’
    ‘Good,’ said Katrín. ‘I saw you going into Ingileif’s gallery yesterday.’
    ‘Do you know her?’
    ‘A bit. Is she suspected of something?’
    ‘I can’t really tell you that.’
    ‘Sorry. Just curious.’ She waved her spoon in the air. ‘I know! Is it Agnar’s murder?’
    ‘I really can’t say,’ Magnus said.
    ‘It is! A friend of mine went out with him when she was at university. I saw him the other day in a café, you know. The Café Paris. With Tómas Hákonarson.’
    ‘Who’s he?’ Magnus asked.
    ‘He has his own TV show. The Point it’s called. Gives politicians a hard time. He’s quite funny.’
    They ate in silence for a minute. Magnus knew he should write the name down, but he was too tired, he couldn’t be both-ered.
    ‘What do you think of her?’ he asked.
    Katrín put down the yoghurt and poured herself some orange juice. Magnus noticed that there was a tiny blob of skyr on the ring jutting out of her lip. ‘Ingileif? I like her. Her brother’s a bastard, though.’
    ‘Why’s that?’
    ‘He won’t let me sing in his clubs any more, that’s why,’ said Katrín, anger in her voice. ‘He owns the hottest places in town. It’s not fair.’
    ‘Why did he ban you?’
    ‘I don’t know. I had some really successful gigs. It’s only because I missed a couple, that’s all.’
    ‘Ah.’ From what he had seen of Pétur he wasn’t surprised that he was tough on unreliable acts.
    ‘I like her,