Meltwater (28 page)

Erika hung up. Things were coming together. She called across to Franz. ‘How are you doing with the end credits?’

Ásta checked the bathroom door upstairs. It was still locked. Someone had been in there for at least ten minutes.

She heard a sound from inside. She put her ear to the door. A sob. It was definitely a sob.

‘Zivah?’ It sounded like a woman and she knew Erika was downstairs. ‘Zivah? It’s Ásta. Do you want to talk?’

Ásta heard sniffing, and then a voice, Zivah’s voice. ‘Do you need the bathroom?’

‘No, I’m OK. But are you?’

The door opened. Zivah’s eyes were red, and her cheeks were stained with tears.

‘What’s wrong?’ Ásta asked.

‘Oh, Ásta, I’m scared. I’m so scared.’

Ásta opened her arms and enveloped Zivah. ‘Hey. Let’s go into your room and we’ll talk about it, eh?’

Ásta led Zivah into the room she shared with Erika. Zivah avoided the bed, which was Erika’s, and flopped on to her sleeping bag neatly folded on the floor. Ásta sat herself down next to her. They both leaned back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder.

‘They’re going to kill Erika. They’ve tried twice and failed, but they’ll get her next time. And then they’ll kill me.’

‘No, they won’t,’ said Ásta. ‘You’ll be safe here. The police are outside.’

‘We’re talking about Mossad here!’ said Zivah. ‘If they want me dead, I’m dead. Believe me.’

‘But why would they want to kill you?’

‘Because I’ve betrayed my country. At least in their eyes.’

‘No, you haven’t. All you have done is translate the words that Israeli soldiers actually used. Erika’s right: you are helping Freeflow reveal the truth. If that looks bad for Israel, that’s Israel’s fault, not yours.’

‘You know my brother is in the army?’ Zivah said. ‘He actually fought in Gaza last year. He had no choice, of course, but he wanted to go. We had massive rows about it; I told him I hated him. But the whole time I was scared sick that he would die.’

‘Did he come out of it OK?’

‘Yes,’ said Zivah. ‘We don’t talk any more, but he was OK. But now it’s me who’s going to die, not him. And I’m going to be killed by an Israeli, not a Palestinian. I think I should just leave now. Go right to the airport. I’ve translated everything for them downstairs; they don’t need me any more.’

‘You can’t, I’m afraid,’ said Ásta. ‘All flights are cancelled. The volcano.’

‘No!’ Zivah brought her fist up to her mouth and bit it. ‘So I’m trapped here, with those killers. They’re going to get me. They
will
get me.’

She leaned into Ásta and burst into tears. Ásta stroked her hair.

‘It’s not necessarily the Israelis who tried to kill Erika,’ Ásta said quietly.

‘Of course it is,’ said Zivah. ‘Who else could it be? I know it must be them.’

‘And I know it isn’t.’

Zivah sat up and looked at Ásta in puzzlement. ‘You know? How can you know?’

‘Trust me,’ said Ásta. ‘I know.’ She looked Zivah straight in the eye. ‘Do you trust me?’

Zivah’s eyes were wide. She nodded. ‘I trust you.’

‘Good,’ said Ásta. ‘Now, do you believe in God?’

Zivah hesitated and then nodded again.

‘Perhaps we should pray?’ Ásta said. ‘Together.’

‘That won’t do any good,’ said Zivah.

‘I find it generally does,’ said Ásta.

Ten minutes later they came down the stairs together. Zivah was still sniffing, but she seemed less desperate. Everyone was tapping away on their computers, apart from Franz, who had his head in the fridge. ‘Hey, Ásta, have we got any milk?’

‘No, we need some,’ said Ásta. ‘In fact, I’ve got a list of lots of stuff we need. Do you want to come to the shop with me, Franz? You can help carry.’

‘Sure,’ said Franz.

Ásta checked her list, and added a couple of items. Zivah was sitting in front of her computer. Ásta gave her a smile of encouragement, which Zivah returned. She was going to be OK. Ásta couldn’t blame her for being scared.
She
was scared.

She grabbed the list and she and Franz left the house and walked up the hill. Krambúd, the nearest convenience store, wasn’t far, just opposite the statue of Leifur Eiríksson at the top of the hill.

Franz was chatting excitedly about the editing he was doing for the end credits, but Ásta wasn’t listening. She had too much on her mind.

She glanced up at the spire of the Hallgrímskirkja, bold, clean and strong. She took a deep breath. She needed some of that strength.

As she turned back towards Franz, she caught a glimpse of a man staring at her out of a parked car, a Suzuki four-wheel drive. As soon as he saw that she had noticed him, the man looked away and started up his engine.

Ásta realized that she was still wearing her clerical collar, which always attracted attention. Perhaps that was what he was staring at. In any case, the Suzuki pulled out of its space and drove away.

They went into the shop.

‘This is ridiculous! I spoke to you yesterday. Why you want to speak to me again?’

Teresa Andreose was angry at being dragged from her hotel to the interview room in the heart of police headquarters. Somehow, Magnus had expected that. A swirl of expensive perfume had surrounded her as she swept into the room, as out of place there as its wearer.

‘This is a murder inquiry, Signora Andreose. We need to ask you some questions.’

‘Well, you had better not take long. I have a flight booked this afternoon. I cannot stand another day in this horrible little country. Do you know what temperature it was in Milan when I left yesterday? Eh?’

Magnus didn’t reply.

‘Twenty-two! Twenty-two degrees. And you know what temperature it is here? Two!’

Magnus thought it was more like five or six, but he wasn’t going to argue. There were four of them in the room: Magnus, Teresa, Baldur and an interpreter.

‘Signora Andreose, the rules of interviewing in a foreign language in Iceland are a little cumbersome. I will ask the questions in Icelandic, you can answer in English and Helena here will translate.’

‘That’s stupid. I demand to answer in Italian.’

‘We’d have to find an Italian interpreter,’ Magnus said.

‘
Parlo italiano
,’ said Helena. The other people in the room looked at the young interpreter in surprise. Magnus knew she was doing a PhD in languages at the University of Iceland and that she spoke English and Danish. Italian was a good addition.

‘No,’ said Teresa. ‘I can speak English.’

‘Good,’ said Magnus. He leaned over and pressed a couple of keys on a computer. The interview rooms had video, not just audio tape. Switching to Icelandic he said: ‘Interview with Teresa Andreose, 9:24, 15 April, 2010. Present: Teresa Andreose, Sergeant Magnús Ragnarsson, Inspector Baldur Jakobsson and Helena Gudrúnsdóttir interpreting.’ Helena translated.

He looked up at Teresa. ‘Can you confirm your name for me please?’

‘Teresa Andreose.’

‘Date of birth?’

‘None of your business.’

‘Can you give me your passport then?’ Magnus asked.

Teresa dug it out of her bag and tossed it to him. He read out the details for the record.

‘Now, Teresa, would you say you were angry with your husband?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Because he cheated on me. He slept with a slut.’

‘How angry would you say you were?’

‘Very angry.’ Then she frowned. ‘You’re not going to say that I killed him, are you?’

‘It’s possible,’ Magnus said.

‘Hah! I thought so. That’s ridiculous.’

‘Is it?’

‘Of course it is! I was in Milan when he was killed.’

‘You could have paid someone else to do it.’

‘That’s absurd!’

‘No, it’s not,’ Magnus said calmly. ‘It’s perfectly possible. Milan is a big city. There are bound to be killers for hire there. You could have found one, paid him to fly to Iceland to kill your husband and his lover. Couldn’t you?’

Teresa shrugged. ‘Yeah, I guess I could have done. But I didn’t.’

‘Who else might have killed him?’ Magnus asked. ‘Apart from you.’

Teresa shrugged again. ‘Erika. I wouldn’t put it past her.’

‘That doesn’t make sense,’ Magnus said. ‘Who else?’

Teresa was silent. Magnus waited. She shrugged again. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps some people Freeflow had exposed.’

‘Like who?’

‘I don’t know! That’s your job to find out. You are the policeman.’

Then Baldur spoke for the first time. Softly. ‘What is it you are not telling us, Teresa?’

It took a moment for the interpreter to translate the question, during which Teresa focused on Baldur for the first time. Magnus noticed hesitation as she heard the question.

‘Why do
you
think he was killed?’ she asked Baldur.

‘If you can’t give us a good suggestion, then we will have to assume that you paid people to murder your husband,’ said Baldur. ‘It’s always the wife. Or the husband. That’s the rule.’

‘And if I don’t tell you, what are you going to do? Put me in an igloo and throw away the key?’

‘Iceland doesn’t have igloos,’ said Magnus.

‘And igloos don’t have keys,’ Baldur said. And then Magnus saw Baldur do something extraordinary. He smiled.

So did Teresa, briefly. She took a deep breath. ‘OK. I tell you. But I need a cigarette.’

‘Sure,’ said Baldur, and he passed a plastic cup to her to use as an ashtray. No one took any notice of the large
No Smoking
sign.

She reached into her bag and pulled one out. Lit it. Took time to gather her thoughts.

‘I met Nico at graduate school in Rome. We were studying geology. We both went on to join oil companies and then he went to work for a big commodity trader based in London, trading oil derivatives. He was a good geologist, but a lousy trader. I realized it, but he never did. And he was such a charmer that it took a while for the people he worked for to realize it too.

‘He was paid well; we got married; I stopped working and started having children; we all lived in London. He lost money, quit his job before he was fired and joined a hedge fund, still in London. Then the crash came in 2008 and he lost money again. He was out of there. I insisted we go back to Milan – I knew he would never cut it in London. And he spent a year looking for a job.’

She took a drag of her cigarette. ‘Then one day he said he was going to see an old friend of his from college, Giovanni Panunzi. Now, Giovanni works for Roberto Tretto, the minister involved in the Gruppo Cavour scandal. Right after that meeting Nico took a sudden interest in Freeflow. He claimed he had suddenly discovered a passion for freedom of information. I went along with this for a little bit, but when he began to spend more and more time on Freeflow I called him on it. Said he was doing stuff for Tretto. He denied it. I just let it drop.’

She glared at Magnus. ‘That was before I knew about Erika.’

‘When did you discover about Nico and Erika?’ Magnus asked.

‘When she came to stay with us in Milan. It was only for a couple of days: she had just spent a week in jail in Rome. They were very distant with each other, very formal. Nico is never distant with anyone, and I knew he was enthusiastic about Erika and what she was doing, or at least he claimed to be. There was only one conclusion. They were having an affair.’

‘And did you confront him on this?’

‘Only after he said he was coming to Reykjavík this week. I told him that I would tell Erika he was a plant. He denied there was anything going on between them, and then begged me not to tell her. He said it might put his life at risk.’

‘Did you tell her?’ Baldur asked.

‘No,’ said Teresa. She swallowed. ‘No, I believed him. And although I was angry with him, I love him. Love him. I will always love him.’ She stared at Magnus defiantly.

‘Why didn’t you tell us this when you heard he had been killed?’ Magnus asked.

‘He wouldn’t have wanted me to,’ Teresa said. ‘He had grown fond of the image of being an idealistic champion of the truth. You know, I think once he got involved he genuinely did believe in what Freeflow are doing. He would hate people to think of him as someone who sold out to corrupt politicians.’

‘But he did,’ said Baldur.

Teresa nodded. ‘He did.’

‘Do you have proof of this?’

‘No concrete proof,’ said Teresa. ‘But it’s all on his computer at home, I bet.’

‘Will you give us or the Italian authorities permission to analyse your husband’s computer?’ Magnus asked. He wasn’t sure whether they needed it, but in a multiple jurisdiction situation the more boxes that could be ticked the better.

Teresa nodded.

‘Please say “yes” if you agree,’ said Magnus. ‘For the record.’

‘Yes.’

‘Thank you. If it was someone connected with Tretto who killed Nico, do you have any idea why?’ Magnus asked.