Where the Shadows Lie (Fire and Ice)

weekly demonstrations which had taken place in front of the Parliament building every Saturday afternoon for months, until the government had finally bowed to popular pressure and resigned.
    ‘The trend is worrying,’ the Commissioner went on. ‘There are more drugs, more drug gangs. We have had problems with Lithuanian gangs and the Hells Angels have been trying to break into Iceland for years. There are more foreigners in our country now, and a small minority of them have a different attitude to crime to most Icelanders. The yellow press here exaggerates the problem, but it would be a foolish police commissioner who ignored the threat.’
    He paused to check if Magnus was following. Magnus nodded to indicate he was, just.
    ‘I am proud of our police force, they work hard and they have a good clear-up rate, but they are just not used to the kind of crimes that occur in big cities with large populations of foreigners. The greater Reykjavík area has a population of only a hundred and eighty thousand, the entire country has only three hundred thousand people, but I want us to be prepared in case the kinds of things that happen in Amsterdam, or Manchester, or Boston for that matter, happen here. Which is why I asked for you.
    ‘Last year there were three unsolved murders in Iceland, all related. We never knew who committed them until he volunteered himself at police headquarters. He was a Pole. We should have caught him after the first woman was killed, but we didn’t, so two more died. I think with someone like you working with us, we would have stopped him then.’
    ‘I hope so,’ said Magnus.
    ‘I’ve read a copy of your file and spoken to Deputy Superintendent Williams. He was very flattering.’
    Magnus raised his eyebrows. He didn’t know Williams did flattery. And he knew there were some serious black marks in his record from those times in his career when he hadn’t always done exactly what he had been told.
    ‘The idea is that you will go through a crash course at the National Police College. In the mean time you will be available for training seminars and for advice should something crop up that you can help us with.’
    ‘A crash course?’ said Magnus, wanting to check that he had understood correctly. ‘How long would that take?’
    ‘The normal course is a year, but since you have so much police experience, we would hope to get you through in less than six months. It’s unavoidable. You can’t arrest someone unless you know Icelandic law.’
    ‘No, I see that, but how long did you …’ Magnus paused as he tried to remember the Icelandic word for ‘envision’ ‘… see me being here?’
    ‘I specified a minimum of two years. Deputy Superintendent Williams assured me that would be acceptable.’
    ‘He never mentioned that kind of timeframe to me,’ said Magnus.
    Snorri’s blue eyes bored into Magnus’s. ‘Williams did, of course, mention the reason why you were so eager to leave Boston on a temporary basis. I admire your courage.’ His eyes flicked towards the uniformed police driver in the front seat. ‘No one here knows about it apart from me.’
    Magnus was about to protest, but he let it drop. As yet, he had no idea how many months it would be until the trial of Lenahan and the others. He would go along with the Police Commissioner until he was called to testify, then he would return to Boston and stay there, no matter what plans the Commissioner had for him.
    Snorri smiled. ‘But, as luck would have it, we have something to get your teeth into right away. A body was discovered this morning, in a summer house by Lake Thingvellir. And I am told that one of the initial suspects is an American. I am taking you straight there now.’
    Keflavík Airport was at the tip of the peninsula that stuck out to the west of Reykjavík into the Atlantic Ocean. They drove east, through a tangle of highways and grey suburbs to the south of the city, lined with small factories and warehouses and familiar fast-food joints: KFC, Taco Bell and Subway. Depressing.
    To his left, Magnus could see the multicoloured metal roofs of little houses that marked the centre of Reykjavík, dominated by the rocket spire of the Hallgrímskirkja, Iceland’s largest church, rising up from the top of a small hill. No sign of the clusters of skyscrapers that dominated the downtown areas of even small cities in America. Beyond the city was Faxaflói Bay, and beyond that the broad foot of Mount Esja, an imposing