missing.’
‘He’s missing? How come? Where is he?’
‘He and Jóhann left camp about seven hours ago and haven’t returned yet. But we’ve traced a signal from Elías’s phone and expect to find them as soon as it gets light. They may have got lost – it’s very dark here. But I can’t rule out the possibility that they’ve had an accident. Elías has plenty of experience on glaciers though, so there’s no need to panic.’
‘Have you noticed any soldiers in the area?’ Kristín asked.
‘Soldiers? No. What do you mean, soldiers?’
‘Elías phoned me from the glacier and said there were soldiers coming towards him.’
‘When did Elías call you?’
‘It must have been about three or four hours ago. We were cut off seconds after he saw the soldiers.’
‘No, we haven’t noticed any movements up here. The boys were test-driving our new snowmobiles and could have covered quite a distance in that time, but there’s no one around except us.’
‘Didn’t they give you any idea of where they were going? Do you think Elías could be in danger?’
‘They didn’t, and I can’t imagine so, not unless he’s travelling in the dark. There’s a large belt of crevasses several hours to the west of us, but he’s careful, and so’s Jóhann. I expect they’ve stopped somewhere and their phone’s out of range. If they stay where they are, we’ll find them quickly once it gets light. What on earth made you call about Elías? Did you have some kind of premonition?’
‘I was informed that Elías was dead,’ Kristín said, ‘and that it was connected somehow to the soldiers he saw on the glacier.’
‘Elías isn’t dead. He’s missing but he’s alive.’
‘Kristín.’ Steve was looking out of the living room window, the curtain pushed to one side. He was staring down at the car park in front of the building.
‘Can I get hold of you on this number later?’ Kristín asked, ignoring Steve.
‘Who told you Elías was dead? Who would do a thing like that?’
‘It’s too complicated to explain now. I’ll talk to you later.’
She took down his number and rang off. Júlíus had a manner of natural authority that in any other context would have been reassuring, she thought; he spoke confidently and precisely. But the conversation had done nothing to allay her fears.
‘How did you get here?’ Steve asked.
‘By taxi.’
‘Did anyone else know you were coming here?’
‘No, no one.’
‘Did you pay using cash?’
‘No, by debit card.’
‘Those men, did they have fair hair?’ Steve asked in a level voice.
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Actually, it can’t be, these guys aren’t wearing jackets and ties, they’re in ski-suits and boots.’
‘Steve, what the hell are you on about?’
‘There are two men standing outside, staring up at my window.’
‘What do you mean?’ Kristín said, the colour draining from her face.
She ran to the window, peered down at the car park and gasped in horror.
‘Jesus, it’s them. How the hell did they find me here?’
Steve leapt back from the window as if he had been struck. ‘They’ve seen us. Come on!’
Kristín was still wearing her coat. Steve yanked on boots and a thick down jacket; seconds later they were outside on the landing. Peering down the stairwell, they saw Ripley and Bateman entering the hall below and running towards the stairs.
‘Shit,’ muttered Steve.
‘Have you got a gun?’ Kristín asked.
‘Why would I have a gun?’
‘Just my luck to meet the only bloody American who doesn’t carry a gun,’ she swore in Icelandic.
‘Come on,’ he cried, running back into the apartment and locking the door behind them. They dashed out on to the little balcony. It was a six-metre drop to the ground – too high. Nor could they swing down to the balcony below, but there was a chance they could jump on to the one next door. From the front door to the apartment came the sound of hammering. Steve helped Kristín climb on
‘He’s missing? How come? Where is he?’
‘He and Jóhann left camp about seven hours ago and haven’t returned yet. But we’ve traced a signal from Elías’s phone and expect to find them as soon as it gets light. They may have got lost – it’s very dark here. But I can’t rule out the possibility that they’ve had an accident. Elías has plenty of experience on glaciers though, so there’s no need to panic.’
‘Have you noticed any soldiers in the area?’ Kristín asked.
‘Soldiers? No. What do you mean, soldiers?’
‘Elías phoned me from the glacier and said there were soldiers coming towards him.’
‘When did Elías call you?’
‘It must have been about three or four hours ago. We were cut off seconds after he saw the soldiers.’
‘No, we haven’t noticed any movements up here. The boys were test-driving our new snowmobiles and could have covered quite a distance in that time, but there’s no one around except us.’
‘Didn’t they give you any idea of where they were going? Do you think Elías could be in danger?’
‘They didn’t, and I can’t imagine so, not unless he’s travelling in the dark. There’s a large belt of crevasses several hours to the west of us, but he’s careful, and so’s Jóhann. I expect they’ve stopped somewhere and their phone’s out of range. If they stay where they are, we’ll find them quickly once it gets light. What on earth made you call about Elías? Did you have some kind of premonition?’
‘I was informed that Elías was dead,’ Kristín said, ‘and that it was connected somehow to the soldiers he saw on the glacier.’
‘Elías isn’t dead. He’s missing but he’s alive.’
‘Kristín.’ Steve was looking out of the living room window, the curtain pushed to one side. He was staring down at the car park in front of the building.
‘Can I get hold of you on this number later?’ Kristín asked, ignoring Steve.
‘Who told you Elías was dead? Who would do a thing like that?’
‘It’s too complicated to explain now. I’ll talk to you later.’
She took down his number and rang off. Júlíus had a manner of natural authority that in any other context would have been reassuring, she thought; he spoke confidently and precisely. But the conversation had done nothing to allay her fears.
‘How did you get here?’ Steve asked.
‘By taxi.’
‘Did anyone else know you were coming here?’
‘No, no one.’
‘Did you pay using cash?’
‘No, by debit card.’
‘Those men, did they have fair hair?’ Steve asked in a level voice.
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Actually, it can’t be, these guys aren’t wearing jackets and ties, they’re in ski-suits and boots.’
‘Steve, what the hell are you on about?’
‘There are two men standing outside, staring up at my window.’
‘What do you mean?’ Kristín said, the colour draining from her face.
She ran to the window, peered down at the car park and gasped in horror.
‘Jesus, it’s them. How the hell did they find me here?’
Steve leapt back from the window as if he had been struck. ‘They’ve seen us. Come on!’
Kristín was still wearing her coat. Steve yanked on boots and a thick down jacket; seconds later they were outside on the landing. Peering down the stairwell, they saw Ripley and Bateman entering the hall below and running towards the stairs.
‘Shit,’ muttered Steve.
‘Have you got a gun?’ Kristín asked.
‘Why would I have a gun?’
‘Just my luck to meet the only bloody American who doesn’t carry a gun,’ she swore in Icelandic.
‘Come on,’ he cried, running back into the apartment and locking the door behind them. They dashed out on to the little balcony. It was a six-metre drop to the ground – too high. Nor could they swing down to the balcony below, but there was a chance they could jump on to the one next door. From the front door to the apartment came the sound of hammering. Steve helped Kristín climb on
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