‘Yes, sir,’ said Thorson. ‘I understand Intelligence were prepared to intervene in our investigation if necessary.’
‘There’s more at stake than that, Thorson. Though they didn’t tell me straight, they hinted that they’d only narrowly prevented the exposure of a major counterespionage operation on the Continent. They’ve gone to great lengths to protect their people. This Felix almost upset the applecart. An amateur, I’m told. A dilettante.’
‘Yes, he doesn’t seem to have had much training. Though he did figure out that he was being used to pass on false information, and he was intending to warn them.’
‘I’ll give him that.’
‘I heard he was fed information about Churchill’s movements.’
‘Of course, that information is confidential; it’s none of our business,’ said Webster. ‘They say that their operations were at risk of being compromised, and we have to take their word for it. There wasn’t much time, so they had to act fast, though granted they could have planned the assassination better.’
‘They sure could.’
‘But a necessary sacrifice like that is of little significance when you consider the big picture. The Icelandic government has agreed that the matter should be classed as a military secret. It’s nothing to do with them, anyway: the Icelanders aren’t involved in this war.’
Thorson didn’t see any point in arguing.
After the meeting, Thorson went round to see Flóvent, who was sitting in his office on Fríkirkjuvegur. In spite of being sworn to secrecy, Thorson judged it safe to confide in his Icelandic colleague about what he had learnt from Colonel Webster. Brynhildur had been released. No official explanation had been given for Felix’s death: his suicide was being treated as a family tragedy. Flóvent had found the radio transmitter he had been using hidden in Rudolf Lunden’s dilapidated summer house on the coast at Vatnsleysuströnd.
‘And Eyvindur?’ asked Flóvent after they had talked over the case yet again. They had discussed it endlessly in these last few days, always getting stuck on this same question.
‘There’s a war on,’ said Thorson.
‘Is that supposed to make it all right?’ asked Flóvent.
‘Officially the case remains unsolved, whatever happens further down the line. I guess there’ll be nothing to stop someone revealing the truth once the war’s over.’
‘And the swastika on his forehead?’ asked Flóvent.
Thorson shrugged. ‘I don’t know how these people’s minds work.’
‘A necessary sacrifice?’ said Flóvent, making a face.
Thorson said nothing.
‘I wondered if they were more jittery than usual at the Leper Hospital because of the visit,’ Flóvent said.
‘Visit?’
‘Apparently he’s on his way.’
54
Quite a crowd has gathered along Laugavegur. Men in hats, women wearing coats or jumpers over their light summer dresses, children running around their legs and out into the street. Police officers shoo them good-humouredly back onto the pavement and tell them to stay there and behave themselves. Some people are waving Union Jacks, others Icelandic flags, as if it was the first day of summer when the townspeople traditionally celebrate the end of winter. British soldiers are patrolling the crowd, keeping their eyes open. There is a rumour that he will drive along this route on his way to Parliament House, and the crowd has been waiting patiently for hours, excited at the prospect of catching a glimpse of the great man.
A girl of about twenty hurries up the road from the Shadow District and finds herself a vantage point on the corner of Klapparstígur. She’s wearing a smart coat and a pretty hat, and is carrying a two-year-old girl in her arms. She’s adjusting the child’s sunhat when she hears a murmur further up the street and knows something’s starting to happen.
The swell of excitement reaches her, and she spots the car at the front of the procession. The people around her start frantically waving their flags and break out in cheers as the vehicles approach and finally drive by. Daringly, the woman steps out into the road and holds up the child so she won’t miss anything. As the procession drives past she sees a fat, round-faced figure with a peaked cap on his head, leaning forward in one of the cars. She beams and waves at him and he waves back, and their eyes meet for an instant before the column of cars crawls on down Laugavegur and vanishes from sight.
ALSO BY ARNALDUR INDRIDASON
THE SHADOW DISTRICT
INTO OBLIVION
REYKJAVIK NIGHTS
STRANGE SHORES
BLACK SKIES
OUTRAGE
OPERATION NAPOLEON
HYPOTHERMIA
ARCTIC CHILL
THE DRAINING LAKE
VOICES
SILENCE OF THE GRAVE
JAR CITY
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ARNALDUR INDRIÐASON won the CWA Gold Dagger Award for Silence of the Grave and is the only author to win the Glass Key Award for Best Nordic Crime Novel two years in a row, for Jar City and Silence of the Grave. Strange Shores was nominated for the 2014 CWA Gold Dagger Award. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Also by Arnaldur Indridason
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
A THOMAS DUNNE BOOK FOR MINOTAUR BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.
THE SHADOW KILLER. Copyright © 2018 by Arnaldur Indridason. English translation copyright © 2018 by Victoria Cribb. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.thomasdunnebooks.com
www.minotaurbooks.com
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ISBN 978-1-250-12404-3 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-12405-0 (ebook)
First published in Iceland under the title Pýska húsid by Vaka-Helgafell
Previously published in Great Britain by Harvill Secker, an imprint of Vintage, a Penguin Random House company
First U.S. Edition: May 2018
eISBN 9781250124050
First eBook edition: January 2018
The Shadow Killer Page 29
