Once In, Never Out

ONE
MONDAY, MARCH 2ND—REYKJAVÍK, ICELAND
It was a small bedroom, spartanly furnished. Despite the night chill, there was no wind and the apartment’s windows were open. A light was on in the hallway and the bedroom door was open. Lying in bed, sleeping naked with their arms wrapped around each other, the couple could be mistaken for middle-aged Nordic gods.
In a country where people grow tall, Thor Eríkson was taller than most, so tall that his feet hung over the end of the bed. He appeared to be trim and fit rather than muscle-bound and his face looked more rugged than handsome. His hair was short and blond, but graying at the temples.
Frieda Helgadottír looked like she belonged with this man, always. She was the muscle-bound one, wide-shouldered and also tall, although at least a head shorter than Thor. Except for her full, well-rounded breasts, she had the body of a very fit teenage tomboy. Her hair was long and also blonde, but there was nothing rugged about her face. There was not one feature that detracted from her appearance, except maybe for the age lines just beginning to appear at the corners of her eyes. She was pretty without being beautiful and she smiled as she slept.
The bedside phone rang at 2:30 A.M., waking both Thor and Frieda. Thor turned on the light, got out of bed, and stretched as he watched the phone, willing it to stop ringing. It didn’t, so he took a pad and pencil from the nightstand.
“Don’t answer it,” Frieda implored as he put his hand on the phone. “You’re on vacation.”
He was used to doing what Frieda wanted, but this time he couldn’t. “There’s been a murder.”
“A murder? How do you know?”
“I just do.” The phone stopped ringing. No matter, Thor thought. The chief will call again.
“Thor, please come back to bed,” Frieda pleaded.
“Sorry, I can’t. I’m going to get ready. When the phone rings, answer it and get the information.”
Frieda accepted Thor’s decision without further comment. No matter what she said, Thor would always do his job because that was the way he was. Although she rarely thought about it, it was one of the many things she loved about Thor and she was intensely proud of him.
He went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. She heard him turn on the shower and knew he wouldn’t be long. Thor showered in the same way he did everything, quickly and efficiently. She got up, closed the windows so that he wouldn’t be chilled when he came out, then sat down on the bed with the pad and pen in her hand, waiting and thinking.
Thor’s job had many drawbacks, but Frieda enjoyed being married to Iceland’s only homicide detective. She especially liked the fact that he was famous and well-respected, so famous that she herself was recognized wherever she went. True, there had been only four murders in the twelve years since Thor had been promoted to detective, but he had solved them all.
Murders weren’t the part of Thor’s job that Frieda minded. They occurred so infrequently in Iceland that in one period of eight years not a single murder had been committed in the entire country.
It was the training that bothered her. Thor was frequently abroad, leaving her alone while he attended this seminar or that national police academy. He trained constantly for his job, and when he wasn’t traveling, he was studying textbooks on the subject of murder.
Or he was playing handball, Iceland’s national sport and another thing she loved about Thor. He excelled at everything he tried, excelled so well that in 1980 and again in 1982 he had been recognized as the national champion. That didn’t hurt his fame, either, and also added to her stature.
The phone rang again.
I hope this one is in Reykjavík, she thought as she picked up the receiver. If not, Thor would be leaving her to work his case in another of Iceland’s far-flung coastal communities. “Hello?”
“Hello, Frieda. It’s Janus. Is Thor there?”
“Yes, but he’s in the shower,” she told the chief. “Has there been a murder?”
“Unfortunately, there’s been two. The British foreign secretary and his wife have been killed at the Saga Hotel.”
Two murders? That’s never happened before, Frieda thought. Worse, important people like the British foreign secretary and his wife. “How?”
“They were killed by bombs.”
Bombs? In Iceland? Something else that’s never happened before. Many other questions popped into her mind, but she kept them to herself. “I’ll tell Thor. Don’t worry, Janus. He’ll be there soon.”
“No, have him wait there. It’s very complicated and very delicate, so Erík is on his way over to talk to Thor.”
“Erík? The minister of fisheries is coming here now?”
“Sorry, Frieda. I hope it’s not too inconvenient, but he insisted.”
It certainly was inconvenient, but Frieda didn’t say a word. When she didn’t answer, Janus added, “Relax, Frieda. It’s not as if Vigdís was coming over.”
That didn’t help Frieda’s state of mind at all. Although Vigdís Finnbogadottír had been president since 1980 and enjoyed some status as the world’s first elected female head of state, her post was largely ceremonial. Frieda knew that the real power in Iceland lay with the minister of fisheries, and it was Erík who was coming. “When will he get here?” she asked.
“He just left. I’d say about fifteen minutes, if he takes his time.”
“Fifteen minutes? Good God! Good-bye, Janus.” Frieda hung up the phone and ran into the bathroom, panic-stricken as she screamed the news to Thor.
By the time the doorbell rang, Frieda was dressed and ready, with her hair combed, her makeup on, and coffee perking. Thor went to the door and Frieda was surprised to hear him greet the minister of fisheries as casually as if he were a neighbor dropping by to borrow a cup of sugar. When Thor brought him into the living room she got another surprise.
Although she had seen Erík on TV many times, he was not what she expected. He had always appeared to be very much the man in charge, radiating confidence with facts and figures at his fingertips, ready for any question. This Erík was different; he appeared haggard and worried.
Nonetheless, he still had manners. “So good to finally meet you, Frieda. I know Thor’s on vacation and I’m terribly sorry to bother you at this hour, but we’re in something of a national emergency,” he said as he shook her hand. Then Erík handed her the bag he was carrying. “Sorry, but that’s all I could come up with at this hour. Croissants from the Saga’s bakery.”
“Very nice of you, Erík. Coffee?”
“That would be wonderful.”
Frieda went into the kitchen and Erík settled into the couch. Thor sat in the armchair opposite him.
“I guess you’re wondering why I’m here,” Erík said.
“I am. I’m also wondering if this visit means that I’m working for you,” Thor replied.
“No, you’re not. I’m not going to get involved in your investigation. However, you’ll need to know some things that only I can tell you right now, things that aren’t for public dissemination at the moment.”
“Why come here instead of waiting for me at the hotel? You hiding from the press?”
“Let’s say I’m avoiding the press. The foreign secretary’s visit was a secret I didn’t let them...