Edge of Nowhere by Michael Ridpath

be a great place to look down on their human cousins below and lob a rockfall or two when they saw things that displeased them.
    Normally, Magnus would have been happy to be in charge of an investigation, but this one struck him as particularly dangerous. He was reporting to two bosses, the Chief Superintendent in Ísafjördur and Baldur in Reykjavík. That was always bad. But it was the damned hidden people that would be his undoing.
    The police hadn’t told the press anything apart from the fact that a woman was helping them with their inquiries. It wouldn’t be long before the two journalists discovered the elf angle, if they hadn’t already. That would bring the case to the top of the national news. It might even get coverage internationally. Everyone would be looking to Magnus to screw up. If the press could get anyone in authority to say anything at all about elves, it would be plastered all over the front page.
    That damn woman.
    Magnus took a deep breath. Forget the hidden people for a moment, and go back to basics. Although Magnus was at least ninety-percent sure that Rós or an accomplice had been responsible for the sabotage, there was a chance that she hadn’t murdered Gústi. Indeed an accident couldn’t be entirely ruled out, if someone else had left the stuffed polar bear and the money as a gift for the elves rather than as bait for Gústi.
    Magnus didn’t really know much about Gústi, apart from what Tómas had told him. Know your victim, or ‘victimology’ as it was sometimes called, was often the key to solving a crime. Magnus remembered the new webcam next to the old computer in Gústi’s bedroom.
    He went back into the police station and got the key to Gústi’s house. It took him ten minutes to walk there. He unlocked the door and walked in, wearing forensic gloves as he switched on the light. He would get the forensics guys in there as soon as they had finished with Rós’s house. The room looked much as it had done before, although something was beginning to smell. Old food.
    He went through to the bedroom and turned on the computer. It took an age to boot up. No Skype, so that couldn’t be what the webcam was for. Which didn’t surprise Magnus; after all, who would Gústi need to Skype?
    But he shouldn’t make assumptions about Gústi’s life. He should keep an open mind.
    There wasn’t much on Gústi’s computer. A few old video games. He had an Internet connection. There were a couple of soccer-related sites, and porn. Lots and lots of porn.
    But still nothing that he would need a webcam for.
    Magnus searched the directory and then found it. A video file, dated two weeks before. The file name was hvalreki.mpg . Hvalreki literally meant ‘beached whale’ in Icelandic, but it was an expression that was still used to mean an unexpected piece of luck. Historically, there was nothing better that could happen to an Icelander than to have a whale wash up on the beach outside his house.
    Magnus opened the file and clicked play. The video lasted four minutes and twenty-three seconds. When it was finished, Magnus clicked play again.

 
    6
     
    Magnus was deep in thought as he walked back through the lamp-lit streets of Bolungarvík to the police station. A Land Rover Freelander drove gently through the gloom towards him and slowed.
    The window slid down. ‘Hi, Magnús! I was looking for you.’
    The Mayor of Bolungarvík looked radiant, with her blond curls falling on her warm, white jacket. She smiled broadly at him.
    ‘And now you’ve found me.’
    ‘I expect you’re busy, but do you want to come to dinner again tonight?’
    Magnus was taken aback. ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea?’
    ‘Quite sure. In fact Davíd wanted me to ask you.’
    ‘Really.’
    ‘Yes, really. Jump in and I’ll explain.’
    It was true that Magnus had a lot to do back at the station. But he shrugged and climbed in to the Land Rover beside Eyrún. ‘What happened?’
    ‘I was really angry last