it be too much for you to drive all that way?’
She laughed at me. ‘I can drive the Land-Rover better than you.’ She began to calculate. ‘It’s 450 kilometres; I wouldn’t want to do that in one day so I’d stop somewhere near Hvammstangi. I could be in Akureyri at mid-morning the next day.’
‘No need to break your neck,’ I said casually. I was relieved; I could fly to Akureyri, get rid of the package before Elin got there and all would be well. There was no need to involve her at all. I said, ‘I’ll probably stay at the Hotel Vardborg. You can telephone me there.’
But when we went to bed I found I was strung up with unrelieved tensions and I could do nothing for her. While holding Elin in the darkness, Lindholm’s face hovered ghost-like in my inner vision and again I tasted the nausea in my throat. I choked a little, and said, ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It doesn’t matter, darling,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re tired. Just go to sleep.’
But I couldn’t. I lay on my back and reviewed the whole of an unpleasant day. I went over every word that had been said by my uncommunicative contact at Keflavik airport, the man whom Slade had said would pass me the package. ‘Don’t take the main road to Reykjavik,’ he had said. ‘Go by Krysuvik.’
So I had gone by Krysuvik and come within an ace of being killed. Chance or design? Would the same thing have happened had I gone by the main road? Had I been set up as a patsy deliberately?
The man at the airport had been Slade’s man, or at least he had the password that Slade had arranged. But supposing he wasn’t Slade’s man and still had the password – it wasn’t too hard to think up ways and means of that coming about. Then why had he set me up for Lindholm? Certainly not for the package – he already had the package! Scratch that one and start again.
Supposing he had been Slade’s man and had still set me up for Lindholm – that made less sense. And, again, it couldn’t have been for the package; he needn’t have given it to me in the first place. It all boiled down to the fact that the man at the airport and Lindholm had nothing to do with each other.
But Lindholm had definitely been waiting for me. He had even made sure of my name before attacking. So how in hell did he know I’d be on the Krysuvik road? That was one I couldn’t answer.
Presently, when I was sure Elin was sound asleep, I got out of bed quietly and went into the kitchen, not bothering to turn on a light. I opened the refrigerator and poured myself a glass of milk, then wandered into the living-room and sat by the window. The short northern night was almost over but it was still dark enough to see the sudden glow from the alley across the street as the watching man drew on a cigarette.
He worried me because I was no longer certain Elin was safe.
III
We were both up early, Elin because she wanted to make a quick start for Akureyri, and I because I wanted to get at the Land-Rover before Elin did. I had some things to stow in the Land-Rover that I didn’t want Elin to know about; Lindholm’s gun, for instance. I taped it securely to one of the main chassis girders and well out of sight. His cosh I put in my pocket. It had occurred to me that if things did not go well I might be in need of weaponry in Akureyri.
I didn’t have to go out of the front door to get at the Land-Rover because the garage was at the back, and so the watcher in the alley got no sight of me. But I saw him because the next thing I did was to take a pair of field glasses one flight up to a landing where there was a window overlooking the street.
He was a tall, lean man with a neat moustache and he looked cold. If he had been there all night without a break he would be not only frozen to the marrow but starving. I made sure I would know him again if I saw him and lowered the glasses just as someone came downstairs from an upstairs flat. It was a middle-aged grey-haired woman who looked at me and then at the glasses and gave a meaningful sniff.
I grinned. It was the first time I had been suspected of voyeurism.
I enjoyed breakfast all the more because of my hungry friend across the street. ‘You’re looking more cheerful,’ said Elin.
‘It’s your cooking,’ I said.
She looked at the herring, the cheese, the bread and the eggs. ‘What cooking? Anyone can boil an egg.’
‘Not like you,’ I assured her.
But I was more cheerful. The dark thoughts of the night had gone and in spite of all the unanswered questions the death of Lindholm no longer oppressed me. He had tried to kill me and failed, and had suffered the penalty for failure. The fact that I had killed him didn’t weigh too heavily upon my conscience. My only lingering worry was for Elin.
I said, ‘There’s a flight for Akureyri from Reykjavik City Airport at eleven.’
‘You’ll have lunch there,’ said Elin. ‘Spare a thought for me bouncing about down in Kaldidalur.’ She swallowed hot coffee hastily. ‘I’d like to leave as soon as possible.’
I waved at the laden table. ‘I’ll clean up here.’
She got ready to leave, then picked up the binoculars. ‘I thought these were in the Land-Rover.’
‘I was just checking them,’ I said. ‘They seemed a bit out of focus last time I used them. They’re all right, though.’
‘Then I’ll take them,’ she said.
I went with her down to the garage and kissed her goodbye. She looked at me closely, and said, ‘Everything is all right, isn’t it, Alan?’
‘Of course; why do you ask?’
‘I don’t really know. I’m just being feminine, I suppose. See you in Akureyri.’
I waved her off and watched as she drove away. Nobody seemed to bother; no heads popped around corners and no one followed in hot pursuit. I went back into the flat and checked on the watcher in the alley. He wasn’t to be seen, so I made a mad dash for the upstairs landing from where I could get a better view and I breathed easier when I saw him leaning against the wall, beating his hands against his arms.
It would seem that he was not aware that Elin had left or, if he was, he didn’t care. It lifted a considerable load off my mind.
I washed the breakfast crockery and then went to my room where I took a camera bag and emptied it of its contents. Then I took the hessian-covered steel box and found that it fitted neatly into the leather bag. From now on it was not going to leave my person until I handed it over in Akureyri.
At ten o’clock I rang for a taxi and left for the airport, a move which resulted in some action. I looked back along the street and saw a car draw up near the alley into which my watcher jumped. The car followed the taxi all the way to the airport, keeping a discreet distance.
On arrival I went to the reservation counter. ‘I have a reservation on the flight to Akureyri. My name is Stewart.’
The receptionist checked a list. ‘Oh, yes; Mr Stewart.’ She looked at the clock. ‘But you’re early.’
‘I’ll have a coffee,’
