The Darkness(49)

She was spared the effort of explaining her business. He started talking the moment he saw her, and it was plain from his expression that he didn’t envy her the impending encounter. ‘Maggi’s waiting for you in the meeting room.’ He told her which one, shaking his head as if to imply that the battle Hulda was about to engage in was already lost.

She made her way to meet her doom with dreamlike slowness, like a condemned prisoner on her way to the gallows, still completely in the dark about what was going on.

Magnús was alone in the room. From the look on his face it was painfully obvious that he was in a foul mood. Before she could even greet him, he asked curtly: ‘Have you spoken to anyone?’

‘Spoken to anyone?’ she echoed, confused.

‘About what happened last night.’

‘I haven’t a clue what happened, I’m afraid,’ she said.

‘Good. Sit down.’

She took a seat across the table from Magnús. There were some papers in front of him, but Hulda’s eyesight wasn’t what it used to be and she couldn’t make them out.

‘Emma Margeirsdóttir,’ he said slowly, after a long pause, his eyes resting on the papers.

Hulda’s blood ran cold when she heard the name.

‘You know who she is, don’t you?’

‘Oh my God, has something happened to her?’ Hulda asked, in a voice close to breaking.

‘You’ve met her, haven’t you?’

‘Yes, of course. But you knew that. I’d already told you.’

‘Quite.’ He nodded and allowed a silence to develop. And drag on. He was clearly hoping to entrap Hulda with her own tactics, but she wasn’t going to fall for that; she was determined to force him to make the next move.

In the end, he caved in first. ‘You questioned her, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, that’s right.’

‘And you told me, if memory serves, that nothing of interest had emerged from the interview.’

Hulda nodded, feeling herself break out in a sweat. She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of an interrogation, and you could hardly call this anything else.

‘ “Nowhere near solving it” – those were your exact words, weren’t they?’

Again, she nodded. Magnús waited for her to answer and, this time, she couldn’t stand the pressure: ‘That’s right.’

After a further pause, Magnús said, on a slightly gentler note than before: ‘You know, I’m a little surprised at you, Hulda.’

‘Why?’

‘I thought you were one of the best in the business. In fact, I know you are. You’ve proved that repeatedly over the years.’

Hulda waited, unsure how to react to this, one of the first and only compliments he’d ever given her.

‘The thing is, she’s confessed.’

‘Confessed?’ Hulda couldn’t believe her ears. Was it possible? After all that had happened; after Hulda had risked her neck to spare the woman.

‘Yes. We arrested her last night and she admitted to having knocked down that man, that bastard paedophile. Naturally, she has my sympathy, but the inescapable fact is that she ran the man down – deliberately. What do you say to that?’

‘It’s unbelievable,’ said Hulda, striving, but no doubt failing, to strike a convincing note.

‘Yes, unbelievable. But she had a powerful motive, as we both know.’

‘Yes, she did.’ Hulda made an effort to breathe calmly.

‘She can expect to do time. And her son, well, who knows what’ll happen to him? It’s tough, Hulda; don’t you agree?’

‘Yes, of course. I really don’t know what to say …’

‘One can’t help but sympathize with her.’

‘Well, I suppose …’

‘You’ve got a reputation for that, Hulda: for giving people the benefit of the doubt. Avoiding passing judgement. I’m aware of that much, though, sadly, we’ve never got to know each other as well as we might have done.’

Sadly. The hypocrisy of it.

‘Did you give her an easy ride?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘During the interview.’

‘No, far from it. I came down pretty hard on her, considering the circumstances.’

‘With no result?’

‘No.’

‘The thing is, Hulda, there’s one part I don’t quite understand,’ he said, drawing his brows together and employing that familiar patronizing tone he’d used so often before. ‘You see, Emma claims that she confessed to you during your conversation …’

It was as if Magnús had lobbed a hand grenade into the room. Hulda felt herself go weak at the knees. Was there any way she could dig herself out of this? How much had Emma said? Why had she betrayed Hulda like that? It was incomprehensible.

Or was Magnús bluffing?

Fishing for the truth?

Trying to trick Hulda into admitting misconduct?

The problem was, she couldn’t read him, didn’t know how to play the next move. Should she make a clean breast of things or carry on lying to him and deny it?

Hulda took her time before answering. ‘Well,’ she said eventually, ‘to tell the truth, she was very unclear. Of course, she was still in a distressed state about those pictures we found of her son. It’s possible she may have thought she’d confessed to something, but that wasn’t how I experienced our conversation.’ She dabbed at the perspiration on her brow.