Meltwater (5 page)

They were met by Chief Superintendent Kristján Sveinsson, a neat, dark-haired man of about forty, displaying the three yellow stars of his rank on his black uniform. Although a chief superintendent, Kristján – whatever their rank or title Icelanders always called each other by their first names – had only nine officers reporting to him. For serious cases such as a murder, he needed reinforcements from Reykjavík.

Kristján showed the three detectives into his office, small but modern and tidy.

‘What happened?’ asked Magnus.

‘A group of foreign journalists went up to see the volcano with a couple of Icelanders. The weather was bad; there weren’t many other sightseers up there. Two of them – Nico the murder victim and an American woman named Erika – wandered away from the others. They were attacked by a single assailant and Nico was stabbed.

‘Erika ran away, with the assailant chasing her. Other members of the group came back to look for her and Nico. When the assailant saw them, he gave up the chase and disappeared.’

‘Anything at the scene?’ Magnus asked. ‘Murder weapon?’

‘The assailant took his knife with him. The crime scene is a blizzard. I have two men up there now, but I doubt we’ll find anything. Forensics will come out from Reykjavík first thing in the morning.’

‘And the body?’

‘Still up there waiting for the forensics guys.’

Magnus grunted. Normally, you wanted crime-scene investigators at the scene as soon as possible, but Magnus understood why it didn’t make sense to crawl around a volcano with a pair of tweezers in a blizzard in the dark.

‘I pity your guys,’ Magnus said.

‘They’re used to it,’ said the chief superintendent. ‘We’ve spent all our time up there over the last three weeks, trying to control the sightseers. I feared someone would get killed at some point. But not like this.’

‘Witnesses?’

‘The group are all here in the station. Four journalists and two Icelanders. One of them is a priest.’

‘A priest? Really? What was he doing there?’

‘It’s a she. And we haven’t interviewed them in any depth yet.’

‘Good,’ said Magnus. ‘What about other witnesses?’

‘We’re looking. They say there was a couple in a jeep and two snowmobilers up by the volcano. They passed other vehicles coming down on their way up the glacier, but the weather was so bad by the time they got there there was scarcely anyone around.’

‘We should appeal for witnesses to come forward. A press conference first thing in the morning.’

‘I can arrange that.’

‘OK, Vigdís, you interview the Icelanders,’ said Magnus. Vigdís didn’t speak English. ‘I’ll interview the foreigners with Árni. Can you lend us a man to join Vigdís?’ he asked Kristján.

‘I can do it if you like?’

Magnus almost laughed. In Boston a chief superintendent would never have offered to sit in as an assistant to a mere sergeant detective, but this was Iceland. This guy was clearly smart, and he wanted to be helpful.

‘Sure. Please do. So where are these people?’

Kristján showed Magnus through to a kind of common room where half a dozen figures were huddled miserably around a table, drinking coffee in silence.

Magnus addressed them in English. ‘Hi, my name is Sergeant Magnus Jonson of the Reykjavík Metropolitan Police,’ he said. He used the American form of his name. Since his father was Ragnar Jónsson, he had been born Magnús Ragnarsson. However, when he had joined his father in Boston at the age of twelve, that had all become too complicated, so he had lost the accent on the ‘u’ and taken an Anglicized form of his father’s last name.

He introduced Árni and Vigdís. ‘I know you have all been through a terrible experience, and you must be very tired, but we will have to interview all of you now. As soon as we’ve finished you will be free to go.’ Magnus turned to the chief superintendent. ‘Is there a hotel in town?’

He nodded. ‘I’ll find them rooms. If the hotel is full we’ll find somewhere for you.’

‘Thanks,’ said Magnus. Then, turning back to the group, ‘Erika Zinn?’

A thin, pale woman in her thirties with shoulder-length black hair looked up. Despite the fatigue, her brown eyes were piercing. It took Magnus aback. ‘Can we start with you?’

CHAPTER FOUR

T
HE STATION HAD
a small but comfortable interview room. Árni and Magnus sat opposite the woman.

‘All right,’ Magnus began. ‘Let’s start with some basic details. What’s your full name and address?’

‘Erika Sarah Zinn.’ She gave an address in Chappaqua, New York. Árni wrote it all down.

‘Profession?’

‘I’m a journalist.’

‘Do you have your passport?’

Erika dug the blue document out of her bag. Magnus glanced at it – the name checked, and the place of birth was given as New York, USA. It was thick: extra pages inserted and nearly every one of them stamped. Erika liked to travel.

He handed it back. ‘Here to cover the volcano?’ he asked.

She nodded.

‘So, what happened?’

Erika told Magnus about the trip up to the volcano and how they had climbed up to the rim.

‘Did you see anyone else up there?’ Magnus asked.

‘We did notice two people right up by the volcano when we got out of the jeep,’ Erika said. ‘I don’t remember seeing them when we were up there.’

‘These were the snowmobile riders?’

‘I guess so,’ said Erika. ‘There were two snowmobiles parked down at the bottom, I remember that. And there was a couple, a man and a woman, who climbed up the lava bank after us. They had been waiting in their car for the weather to clear. But I don’t think they stayed at the rim for as long as we did.’

‘Can you describe any of these people?’

‘No. Wait, the woman had a bright blue woolly hat.’

‘And the snowmobilers?’

‘No – I didn’t get a good look at them. I was looking at the volcano. It really was amazing. One of the most incredible things I’ve seen in my life.’

‘Of course. So what did you do at the top?’

‘We gawked. Nico told me some stuff about volcanoes. Then he and I went to look at a stream of lava flowing down over to the side. It had just started to snow.’ Erika was concentrating hard, making sure she told her story clearly. ‘I don’t know where the man came from. I didn’t see him at all, but Nico did. He shouted something like: “Hey!” I turned to see this guy swinging a rock towards my head. He would have hit me too if Nico hadn’t dived for his arm.’

‘Then what happened?’

‘The guy dropped the rock and jumped back. Nico lunged at him. Then Nico kind of jerked and gave a little cry of pain. Not a scream or anything. I saw his face; he looked surprised. Then he slid down to the ground and I saw the other guy was holding a knife. I’m sure Nico hadn’t seen it.’

‘What did you do?’

‘I screamed. And then I ran. I headed back around the rim. The guy was following me. I go running a lot, I’m pretty fit and I was really scared, so although the guy was catching me I managed to keep ahead of him. The visibility was really bad by this stage.

‘I saw Dieter and ran toward him. I tried to tell him what was going on. Then the guy who had stabbed Nico appeared through the snow. He saw us and came toward us holding out the knife.’

Erika swallowed. ‘I could see Nico’s blood on it. Anyway, Dieter picked up a rock and squared up to him. I could tell Dieter was scared, but he’s big. Then Dúddi showed up and the guy with the knife disappeared back into the snow. I guess he figured three was too many to take on, even with a knife.’

‘Did you see where he went?’

‘No, he ran down the slope by the volcano, but I couldn’t see the cars at the bottom because of the poor visibility. So I don’t know what he did when he was down there. And I couldn’t hear either, with the noise of the volcano.’

‘What can you tell me about the guy? Was he young or old? Tall, small, fat, dark?’

Erika hesitated. ‘Tallish. Fit and strong. Not a kid, but not middle-aged either. He was wearing a bright red jacket and the hood was up, but he had dark hair.’

‘Would you recognize him again?’

‘Probably not, no.’

‘Did he look like an Icelander?’

‘He wasn’t fair or red-headed, if that’s what you mean. But quite a lot of Icelanders have dark hair, don’t they? Come to think of it, his complexion was darker than most of them.’

‘Mediterranean? Asian? Indian?’

‘I don’t know. I said I didn’t see him clearly.’

‘But he definitely wasn’t one of your group?’

Erika’s eyes flashed. ‘That’s a dumb question.’

‘I like to ask dumb questions,’ said Magnus calmly.

Erika raised her eyebrows. ‘No, he definitely wasn’t one of our group. Bigger than most of them except Dieter, and I don’t think the others had red jackets. Of course he wasn’t one of our group.’

‘OK,’ said Magnus. ‘I understand. So what did you do then?’

‘We went back down to check out Nico. He was bleeding badly from the stomach. He was still alive when we got to him, but then . . .’ A tear ran down Erika’s cheek. She sniffed. Tried to say something and couldn’t. Fell silent.

Magnus waited.

‘Then . . . then he wasn’t alive any more.’

‘I’m sorry,’ said Magnus.

‘I studied medicine for years. I should have been able to do something to save him. But there was so much blood.’ She looked down at her hands, which were now washed clean, but there were brown stains on the cuffs of her sweater. And all over her coat, no doubt. ‘I tried to stanch it. But . . .’

‘Were you friends?’ Magnus asked gently.

‘Yes,’ said Erika. ‘Yes, we were. I’ve known him for a year or so. We’ve worked together on some projects.’

‘Stories?’

‘Yes.’

‘Tell me a bit about him. He was a journalist?’

‘Not exactly. In fact he used to be a banker of some kind. Worked for a hedge fund in London trading oil futures or something. He said he was originally a geologist.’ Erika smiled. ‘That’s why he was so eager to see the volcano. Anyway, he gave up the hedge fund business a couple of years ago.’

‘To do what?’

‘I’m not sure, exactly. I know he had saved up some money. He was a bit of an idealist.’

‘Were you and he having a relationship?’ Magnus asked.

‘Oh, no,’ said Erika. ‘He’s married. Three small kids, I think. His family are in Milan now.’ She closed her eyes. ‘Someone’s going to have to tell his wife.’

‘Do you know her?’

‘Not well,’ said Erika. ‘Her name is Teresa. I stayed with them once in Italy. I have their address and phone number.’

‘If you give it to us, we can do it,’ Magnus said. ‘We’ll call her right away.’

Erika smiled. ‘Thanks.’

‘Did he have any enemies as far as you know?’

‘None that I know of. Nico didn’t make enemies. He was just a great guy. Big smile; nothing was too much trouble for him. You know, one of those people everyone loves.’

‘You’ll miss him,’ said Magnus softly.

‘Yeah,’ said Erika. ‘I’ll miss him.’ She took out a tissue and blew her nose. ‘I’m sorry. It’s been a rough night.’

‘Yes,’ said Magnus. ‘Yes, it has. Just a couple more questions. I don’t understand why Nico was in Iceland. If he wasn’t a journalist, I mean.’

Erika pulled herself together. Looked Magnus straight in the eye. Too straight. ‘I told you. He knew about volcanoes.’

‘Yes, but he wasn’t an expert, was he?’ Magnus said. ‘I mean he’s not a, what do you call them, vulcanologist? Or is he?’

‘No. But he was a friend and he wanted to come.’

‘To help you with your article?’

‘Yes.’

Magnus examined Erika. This wasn’t
quite
right. She was sitting up straight now, alert. She had been shattered a moment before. Something about his questions had caused her to raise her defences. To look him straight in the eye.

‘You say you are a journalist. So who do you write for?’

‘I’m freelance,’ Erika said.

‘What about the others out there?’

‘They are freelance too.’

‘I see. So who have you written for? Anyone I would have heard of?’

‘The
Washington Post
. The
Chicago Tribune
. A lot of online stuff.’

‘Online stuff?’

Erika nodded.

‘So if I were to Google you, your name would come up?’

Erika shrugged. ‘I guess.’

There was a computer screen on the desk by Magnus in the interview room, but it was blank. Magnus turned to his colleague.

‘Árni, have you got that iPhone you’re always talking about?’

‘Right here.’

‘Can you Google Erika Zinn?’

‘Sure.’ Árni pulled out his little gadget and tapped. Erika watched Árni. Magnus watched Erika. He knew he was on to something.