The Darkness(50)

‘I see.’ Magnús’s face remained impassive.

He was quite good at this, Hulda realized: she’d underestimated him.

‘So it was all a misunderstanding between the two of you. Could that explain it?’

Hulda had the feeling that she was digging herself deeper and deeper into a hole with every question she answered. She felt uncomfortable in Magnús’s office, as if she were trapped there.

‘Must have been. Are you absolutely sure she did it – knocked him down, I mean? Regardless of her confession?’

‘What are you implying?’ he asked slowly, sounding more curious than surprised.

‘Perhaps it was just a cry for attention, especially if she told you she’d already confessed before.’ Hulda went on trying to brazen it out, though all she really wanted at this stage was to give in and admit everything.

‘She was definitely responsible for the hit-and-run, I don’t think there’s any real doubt about that. But that’s not the main issue here.’

‘Oh?’

‘She had more to tell me …’

At this, Hulda’s heart began racing so fast she thought she might faint, and Magnús spun out the moment, as if he were enjoying watching her squirm.

‘Emma told me you’d got in touch with her later that same evening, after the interview. Is that correct?’

‘I don’t remember. Yes, maybe, to check some details for my report.’

‘Hulda, she claims you rang to tell her not to worry about her confession. That you weren’t going to take it any further.’ And now he raised his voice, his face like thunder. ‘Is that possible, Hulda? Is there the slightest possibility that she’s telling the truth?’

How was she supposed to respond to this? Ruin her record on the eve of her retirement, all for an act of kindness that had rebounded on her? Or continue to deny it? After all, it was Emma’s word against hers.

To win time, she opted not to say anything.

‘Do you know what I think, Hulda? I think you felt sorry for her. No one wastes any pity on a paedophile – not me, not you – but that doesn’t mean we can take the law into our own hands. If you ask me, I think that sympathy for this woman led you to cross a line. Which I can understand, in a way.’ He paused briefly, but Hulda remained obstinately mute. ‘She would be facing prison, mother and son would be separated … I do understand. You lost your daughter, after all.’

‘Keep my daughter out of this!’ Hulda shouted. ‘What the hell do you know about her? You don’t know a thing about me and my family and you never have!’ This explosion took even Hulda by surprise, but at least it succeeded in momentarily wrong-footing Magnús. He’d better not dare to drag Dimma into this again. If he did, Hulda couldn’t be held responsible for her actions.

‘I’m sorry, Hulda. I was just trying to put myself in your shoes.’

It was becoming all too clear that Emma had shopped her, in spite of Hulda’s good intentions. The woman’s betrayal was so incomprehensible that Hulda felt wounded even thinking about it. Yes, Emma had been in a highly agitated state, but that wasn’t enough to excuse her behaviour. She must have had a complete meltdown when questioned by Magnús.

Only then did Hulda remember why she had switched off her phone yesterday evening. Why the hell had she drunk all that wine? Her hangover wasn’t helping her cope with the pressure now. She was on the back foot in everything she did today, just when she needed to be at the peak of her powers. Perhaps age was catching up with her, she thought, before angrily rejecting the idea. She knew she was as good an officer now as she had ever been.

Emma had rung her, late at night. That should have set off alarm bells, suggesting, as it did, that she had some urgent reason for trying to get in touch. But Hulda hadn’t been in the mood to talk to her. God, how she regretted that now. Perhaps Emma had wanted to consult her about turning herself in. Oh, Christ.

‘This is an extremely serious matter, Hulda,’ said Magnús after a weighty pause.

She still couldn’t work out how she ought to react and what the repercussions of her actions might be. Surely he wasn’t planning to sack her in disgrace on her last day at work?

‘Are you saying that she’s confessed now?’ Hulda asked, aware that her question contained an acknowledgement of her mistake, without being a direct admission of guilt. ‘Does it really matter what we talked about or how she interpreted the outcome?’ She bit back the shameful desire to whine: Please, be lenient. After all these years, after my long, successful career, couldn’t we overlook this one little mistake?

‘You’ve hit the nail on the head there, Hulda. In normal circumstances, I don’t suppose I’d have made a big deal out of this, seeing as you’re leaving anyway and it’s a difficult time for you. An error of judgement, no harm done.’

In normal circumstances? What was he trying to tell her?

‘But it gets worse. Emma went down to the National Hospital last night. I gather she’s worked for the health service in the past and is currently employed at a nursing home.’

‘The National Hospital?’

‘Yes, apparently, it wasn’t too difficult: there’s not much security, she knew her way around and, whenever she encountered a locked door, she managed to blag her way through by flashing her work ID.’