Magnús.’
‘OK. We’ll talk when I get there. I did find something out about Gudrún, by the way.’
‘Yes?’
Magnus told her how Gudrún was an animal-rights activist and how she had left university a couple of days early to return to Raufarhöfn to look for the mother polar bear.
‘That makes perfect sense,’ said Vigdís. ‘I’ve just been checking the Facebook group. You can see the flurry of messages after the first reports of the polar bear being shot. Everyone was angry, and someone with the nickname “Foxgirl” suggested that volunteers come out to Raufarhöfn and disrupt the search for a second bear. Two members said they would go – Alex Einarsson and Martin Fiedler. Martin said he was flying from Düsseldorf to Iceland.’
‘Is Foxgirl Gudrún?’
‘It’s not absolutely certain, but that would be my guess. Whoever it is, she lives in or near to Raufarhöfn and goes to university in Reykjavík. “Foxgirl” makes sense when you think of the Melrakkaslétta with all its foxes.’
‘It must be her, mustn’t it?’ said Magnus.
‘We can ask her,’ said Vigdís. ‘She won’t know how difficult itis to get Facebook to give us confirmation. Also, it turns out the interpreter we were using to interview Martin Fiedler is also in the group.’
‘Now you’re off the case, I was going to call Ólafur to tell him about Gudrún. But you should do it.’
‘He won’t listen to me.’
‘He may do. And if he doesn’t, that’s his fault. If you can still help solve this thing, that won’t do you any harm.’ There was a pause. ‘Remember how I met Ingileif? It doesn’t have to be the end of the world.’
‘I do,’ said Vigdís. ‘I was there.’
Magnus and Vigdís had gone together to Ingileif’s gallery on Skólavördustígur in Reykjavík to interview her. Even at that stage Vigdís had noticed how struck Magnus was with her.
‘See you later,’ said Magnus. ‘And good luck.’
CHAPTER SIX
V igdís went straight to the police station and found Ólafur. ‘What is it?’ he demanded.
‘I have checked the Facebook group Martin and Alex used. And I have spoken to Magnús about Gudrún Halldórsdóttir.’
‘I told you that you were off the case.’
‘I know. But you will want to hear what I’ve got.’
Ólafur sighed. He was feeling the pressure – he needed something to break his way. He did want to know what Vigdís had got.
‘So tell me.’
Vigdís told him and Ólafur listened this time. Closely.
‘I need to go talk to this girl,’ Ólafur said.
‘Can I come?’ said Vigdís.
Ólafur opened his mouth to say no, but hesitated. ‘All right,’ he said, grabbing his coat. ‘But stay quiet. I’ll do the talking.’
Although it was only a two-minute walk to Halldór’s house, Ólafur took a police car and a uniformed officer. Gudrún answered the door and led them into the living room. A couple in their seventies sat on a sofa, staring at a skinny man of about twenty-three with a shaven head, wearing jeans and a stained T-shirt.
Sveinn. The fair curls of the teenager in the family photo had all gone.
Grief stalked the room. The family looked shattered, all four of them.
To Vigdís’s surprise, rather than demanding to speak to Gudrún immediately, Ólafur started with the grandparents. But it madesense: get as much background as possible before confronting a suspect.
First they spoke to the grandparents alone in the kitchen over cups of coffee. It turned out that they were Halldór’s parentsin-law – his own parents were both dead. They didn’t say much that the police didn’t know already. They had good things to say about Halldór and how he had brought up their grandchildren after their daughter’s death, although Vigdís got the impression that they were unhappy with his decision to move the family from Reykjavík to Raufarhöfn, about as far away from them as it was possible to go in Iceland.
Then it was Sveinn’s turn. He didn’t touch his
‘OK. We’ll talk when I get there. I did find something out about Gudrún, by the way.’
‘Yes?’
Magnus told her how Gudrún was an animal-rights activist and how she had left university a couple of days early to return to Raufarhöfn to look for the mother polar bear.
‘That makes perfect sense,’ said Vigdís. ‘I’ve just been checking the Facebook group. You can see the flurry of messages after the first reports of the polar bear being shot. Everyone was angry, and someone with the nickname “Foxgirl” suggested that volunteers come out to Raufarhöfn and disrupt the search for a second bear. Two members said they would go – Alex Einarsson and Martin Fiedler. Martin said he was flying from Düsseldorf to Iceland.’
‘Is Foxgirl Gudrún?’
‘It’s not absolutely certain, but that would be my guess. Whoever it is, she lives in or near to Raufarhöfn and goes to university in Reykjavík. “Foxgirl” makes sense when you think of the Melrakkaslétta with all its foxes.’
‘It must be her, mustn’t it?’ said Magnus.
‘We can ask her,’ said Vigdís. ‘She won’t know how difficult itis to get Facebook to give us confirmation. Also, it turns out the interpreter we were using to interview Martin Fiedler is also in the group.’
‘Now you’re off the case, I was going to call Ólafur to tell him about Gudrún. But you should do it.’
‘He won’t listen to me.’
‘He may do. And if he doesn’t, that’s his fault. If you can still help solve this thing, that won’t do you any harm.’ There was a pause. ‘Remember how I met Ingileif? It doesn’t have to be the end of the world.’
‘I do,’ said Vigdís. ‘I was there.’
Magnus and Vigdís had gone together to Ingileif’s gallery on Skólavördustígur in Reykjavík to interview her. Even at that stage Vigdís had noticed how struck Magnus was with her.
‘See you later,’ said Magnus. ‘And good luck.’
CHAPTER SIX
V igdís went straight to the police station and found Ólafur. ‘What is it?’ he demanded.
‘I have checked the Facebook group Martin and Alex used. And I have spoken to Magnús about Gudrún Halldórsdóttir.’
‘I told you that you were off the case.’
‘I know. But you will want to hear what I’ve got.’
Ólafur sighed. He was feeling the pressure – he needed something to break his way. He did want to know what Vigdís had got.
‘So tell me.’
Vigdís told him and Ólafur listened this time. Closely.
‘I need to go talk to this girl,’ Ólafur said.
‘Can I come?’ said Vigdís.
Ólafur opened his mouth to say no, but hesitated. ‘All right,’ he said, grabbing his coat. ‘But stay quiet. I’ll do the talking.’
Although it was only a two-minute walk to Halldór’s house, Ólafur took a police car and a uniformed officer. Gudrún answered the door and led them into the living room. A couple in their seventies sat on a sofa, staring at a skinny man of about twenty-three with a shaven head, wearing jeans and a stained T-shirt.
Sveinn. The fair curls of the teenager in the family photo had all gone.
Grief stalked the room. The family looked shattered, all four of them.
To Vigdís’s surprise, rather than demanding to speak to Gudrún immediately, Ólafur started with the grandparents. But it madesense: get as much background as possible before confronting a suspect.
First they spoke to the grandparents alone in the kitchen over cups of coffee. It turned out that they were Halldór’s parentsin-law – his own parents were both dead. They didn’t say much that the police didn’t know already. They had good things to say about Halldór and how he had brought up their grandchildren after their daughter’s death, although Vigdís got the impression that they were unhappy with his decision to move the family from Reykjavík to Raufarhöfn, about as far away from them as it was possible to go in Iceland.
Then it was Sveinn’s turn. He didn’t touch his
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