The Polar Bear Killing Read Online Free PDF Page A

did your father get on with you and Sveinn?’ Vigdís asked.
    To Vigdís’s surprise, Gudrún didn’t answer at first. She looked as if she was about to burst into tears. Vigdís waited.
    ‘Dad and I had a wonderful relationship,’ Gudrún said. ‘But Sveinn? That was more difficult.’
    ‘Why was that?’ Vigdís asked softly.
    ‘He is three years older than me. He was studying chemistry at the university, but he dropped out last year. He had trouble with drugs.’ Worry flashed in her eyes as she glanced at Vigdís. ‘I’m not sure I should be telling you this since you’re a police officer. But then I suppose he’ll be in your files anyway. He was arrested at least twice. That’s what made Dad really angry: that his son was in trouble with the police. He didn’t say it, but I know he blamed it on Mum not being around, that he hadn’t brought up Sveinn well by himself. Which is completely wrong. Sveinn’s a nice guy, a good guy. He just has trouble with drugs. Lots of good kids have trouble with drugs, don’t they?’
    ‘They do,’ said Vigdís. She moved over to the collection of photographs on a side table. ‘Is this him?’
    There was a picture of Halldór, a younger Gudrún and a teenage boy with curly fair hair standing in a marsh. The boy was holding something.
    ‘Yes, that’s him,’ said Gudrún, picking up the photograph.
    The something the boy was holding was a rifle.
    ‘Was Sveinn a good shot?’ Vigdís asked.
    ‘Yes,’ said Gudrún. ‘Not quite as good as Dad. They used to shoot together at a local farm.’
    Then she looked at Vigdís in alarm. ‘No. Sveinn didn’t shoot Dad. No!’
    Vigdís felt bad about worrying Gudrún over her brother. She left the house and walked down to her car, which she’d parked outside the station.
    It would be easy enough to check on Sveinn. According to Gudrún, he was in Reykjavík when his father was shot. That would be easy enough to verify.
    She called Magnus at police headquarters.
    ‘Did they confess?’ he asked.
    ‘Far from it,’ Vigdís said. ‘A guy from the German Embassy is here with Kristján Gylfason. They’ll be out by lunchtime.’
    ‘Do you think they did it?’
    ‘Don’t know. The victim fell out with his son, who is supposed to have been in Reykjavík.’
    Vigdís gave Magnus Sveinn’s details and asked him to check up on Gudrún as well.
    She knew she should go back into the station and report to Ólafur what Gudrún had told her and ask for instructions. She also knew he would be clutching at anything that could convict the two animal-rights activists. Yet someone should be looking for other suspects.
    She decided to drive out to the farm where Halldór had shot the polar bear. No one had done that yet.
    The farm was ten kilometres from Raufarhöfn, on a knoll with a lush green meadow sloping gently down to a fast-flowing river. The establishment looked prosperous: tidy round hay bales were piled high alongside a large well-maintained barn for the sheep to winter in. The farmer and his wife were home, and they introduced Vigdís to Anna.
    She was about eight, with long hair that was so blonde it was almost white, big blue eyes, and pale skin smeared with red blotches like daubs of paint from a coarse-haired brush. She was still badly upset, both at the death of the polar bear and at Halldór being shot. She wouldn’t say a word to Vigdís; herparents said she hadn’t spoken to anyone about what happened that afternoon.
    Vigdís tried to coax something out of her, but the little girl was clearly scared. Vigdís was frustrated by the response of some country people to her black skin, but she understood that she must look strange to the poor girl and so she didn’t push it. As Vigdís was leaving, she had a word with the farmer, whose name was Pétur.
    ‘I’m sorry about scaring your daughter, but we need to know what happened.’
    ‘We’re worried about her,’ said Pétur. ‘She has changed totally over the last few