Where the Shadows Lie (Fire and Ice)

who had just murdered his best friend,’ said Magnus. ‘I think I should go and see the Reverend Hákon tomorrow.’
    ‘Can I come?’ Ingileif asked.
    Magnus raised his eyebrows.
    ‘It’s hard to explain,’ Ingileif said. ‘I need to find out what really happened to my father. It was a long time ago and I’ve tried to bottle it all up, but there are so many questions that I don’t have the answers to. Agnar’s murder has brought them all back. I’ve just got to find those answers if I’m going to get on with my life. Do you understand?’
    ‘Oh, I understand,’ said Magnus. ‘Believe me, I understand. I sometimes think I spend every day trying to answer those kinds of questions about my own father.’
    He considered her request. It was certainly not part of the standard investigative procedure to take one witness along to interview another, just to satisfy her curiosity. ‘Yes,’ said Magnus, smiling. ‘That would be fine.’
    Ingileif returned his smile. There was a silence that was and was not uncomfortable.
    ‘Tell me about your father,’ Ingileif said.
    Magnus paused. Drank some wine. Glanced at the woman opposite him, her grey eyes warm now. It wasn’t standard investigative procedure. But he told her. About his early childhood, his parents’ separation, his own move to America to join his father. About his stepmother, his father’s murder and his failed attempts to solve it. And then about his recent discovery of his father’s infidelity.
    They talked for an hour. Perhaps two hours. They talked a lot about Magnus, and then they talked about Ingileif. They finished the bottle of wine and opened another.
    Eventually Magnus got up to leave. ‘So you still want to come with me to Hruni? To see the Reverend Hákon?’
    ‘I’d like to,’ said Ingileif, with a smile.
    ‘Good,’ said Magnus, putting on his coat. Then he froze. ‘Wait a minute!’
    ‘What?’
    ‘This pastor. This Reverend Hákon. Does he have a son?’
    ‘Yes. As a matter of fact I saw him only this morning. He’s an old friend of mine.’
    ‘And what’s his name?’
    ‘Tómas. Tómas Hákonarson. He’s a TV presenter now. He’s quite famous: you must know him.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Magnus. ‘As a matter of fact, I do know him.’
    The street was cold and damp after the warmth of Ingileif’s flat. There was a light drizzle and a steady fresh breeze pushed the moisture against Magnus’s cheeks.
    He knew he should go home, but Ingileif lived not far from the Grand Rokk.
    Just one beer.
    As he made his way along the higgledy-piggledy little streets, Magnus pulled out his phone. He should call Baldur, tell him that the man he had in custody was the son of the pastor who had accompanied the doctor in his search for the ring seventeen years before.
    He didn’t have Baldur’s home number or the number for his cell phone. But if he called the station they could pass on the message.
    Screw it. Magnus slipped his phone back in his pocket. It’s not as if Baldur would care. He wouldn’t actually do anything with the information. Magnus would tell him the following day, when he had actually spoken to the Reverend Hákon.
    His phone rang. It was Árni.
    ‘I’ve just arrived in San Francisco,’ he said. ‘I got your message.’ The disappointment flowed unhindered the thousands of miles from California.
    ‘Sorry about that, Árni. I saw Isildur this morning at the Hótel Borg.’
    ‘Did he give you some good information?’
    ‘Yeah, he did. Not that your boss would care.’
    ‘Why? What’s happened?’
    ‘He’s made another arrest. Some guy called Tómas Hákonarson.’
    ‘Not from The Point ?’
    ‘That’s the guy.’
    Árni whistled down the phone. ‘So what shall I do now?’
    ‘I guess you’d better come home. Your plane will probably turn right around and head back to New York. You’d better check they got a seat for you on it.’
    ‘Oh, shit,’ said Árni. ‘It feels like I’ve been on the plane for days already. I don’t think my body could stand another flight that long.’
    Don’t be such a wimp, Magnus thought. But he took pity on his new partner. ‘Or you could just check into a hotel and listen to my message first thing tomorrow morning.’
    ‘Good idea. I’ll do that. Thanks, Magnús.’
    ‘No problem.’
    ‘And Magnús?’
    ‘Yeah?’
    ‘Keep at it. Don’t give up. You’ll get there.’
    ‘Night, Árni.’
    As Magnus switched off his phone he thought about Árni’s last