Edge of Nowhere

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Baldur was smiling. Baldur never smiled. Magnus was suspicious.

Baldur Jakobsson was the inspector in charge of the Violent Crimes Unit of the Reykjavík Metropolitan Police, and Magnus’s boss. He was in his forties, about ten years older than Magnus, with a long, lugubrious face beneath a high, bald dome of a forehead. He was not known for his sense of humour. ‘I have just the case for you,’ he said. ‘Now you’ve graduated and we can send you out on your own.’

‘Sounds good,’ said Magnus carefully.

Although Baldur knew all there was to know about Icelandic police work, Magnus had far more experience of the serious stuff. It was true that Magnus had just graduated from the Police College, but that was after a long stint working as a homicide detective with the Boston Police Department. The Icelandic National Police Commissioner had requested the loan of a detective from the States with big-city crime experience and, as a fluent Icelandic speaker, Magnus had seemed perfect for the job. But it was necessary for that officer to be familiar with the laws and policing methods of the country in which he was operating, hence the six-month spell at the Police College. Magnus couldn’t argue with that.

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