Free Where the Shadows Lie (Fire and Ice) by Michael Ridpath Page B

minutes.’ She drove down the other side of the hill towards the police headquarters on Hverfisgata. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I just find it easier to straighten out those kind of questions up front. Icelandic women are a bit like that, you know. We say what we think.’
    ‘It must be tough being the only black detective in the country.’
    ‘You’re damn right. I’m pretty sure that Baldur didn’t want me to join the department. And I don’t exactly blend in when I’m out on the streets, you know. But I did well in the exams and I pushed for it. It was Snorri who got me the job.’
    ‘The Commissioner?’
    ‘He told me my appointment was an important symbol for Reykjavík’s police force to be seen as modern and outward looking. I know that some of my colleagues think a black detective in this town is absurd, but I hope I have proved myself.’ She sighed. ‘The problem is I feel like I have to prove myself every day.’
    ‘Well, you seem like a good cop to me,’ Magnus said.
    Vigdís smiled. ‘Thanks.’
    They reached police headquarters, an ugly long concrete office block opposite the bus station. Vigdís drove her car into a compound around the back and parked. The rain began to fall hard, thundering down on the car roof. Vigdís peered out at the water leaping about the parking lot and hesitated.
    Magnus decided to take advantage of Vigdís’s direct honesty to find out a bit more about what he had got himself into. ‘Is Árni Holm related to Thorkell Holm in some way?’
    ‘Nephew. And yes, that is probably why he is in the department. He’s not exactly our top detective, but he’s harmless. I think Baldur might be trying to get rid of him.’
    ‘Which is why he dumped him on me?’
    Vigdís shrugged. ‘I couldn’t possibly comment.’
    ‘Baldur isn’t very happy with me being here, is he?’
    ‘No, he isn’t. We Icelanders don’t like being shown what to do by the Americans, or anyone else for that matter.’
    ‘I can understand that,’ Magnus said.
    ‘But it’s more than that. He’s threatened by you. We all are, I suppose. There was a murderer on the loose last year, he killed three women before he turned himself in.’
    ‘I know, the Commissioner told me.’
    ‘Well, Baldur was in charge of the investigation. We failed to find the killer and there was a lot of pressure on Snorri and Thorkell to do something. People wanted heads to roll. Moving Baldur on would have been the easiest thing to do, but Snorri didn’t do that. I’d say Baldur isn’t out of the woods yet. He needs to solve this case and he needs to do it himself.’
    Magnus sighed. He could understand Baldur’s position, but it wasn’t going to make his life in Reykjavík easy. ‘And what do you think?’
    Vigdís smiled. ‘I think I might learn something from you, and that’s always good. Come on. The rain is easing off, just like I said it would. I don’t know about you, but I’ve got work to do.’

CHAPTER EIGHT
    I NGILEIF WAS SHAKEN by the visit of the two detectives. An odd couple: the black woman had a flawless Icelandic accent, whereas the tall red-haired man spoke a bit hesitantly with an American lilt. Neither of them had believed her, though.
    As soon as she had read about Agnar’s death in the newspaper, she had expected the police. She thought she had perfected her story, but in the end she didn’t think she had done very well. She just wasn’t a good liar. Still, they had gone now. Perhaps they wouldn’t come back, although she couldn’t help thinking that somehow they would.
    The shop was empty so she returned to her desk, and pulled out some sheets of paper and a calculator. She stared at all the minus signs. If she delayed the electricity bill, she might just be able to pay Svala, the woman who made the glass pieces in the gallery. Something in her stomach flipped, and an all-too familiar feeling of nausea flowed through her.
    This couldn’t go on much longer.
    She loved the gallery. They all