‘Where does he stay when he’s in town?’

‘The company owns a house in Fjólugata. Number nineteen. Low-key but smart. I hear he stays there.’

‘And he’s in town now?’

Ragnar nodded. ‘Naturally. The launch is tomorrow.’

‘What will that involve?’

‘I don’t know. I’m not allowed to know. But it’s a sure bet it’s to do with all this land that’s been acquired in Quartizon’s name. Well, the land I think we’ve acquired. Like I told Kristjan and Abe, I’m kept out of that side of things. Japanese staff only. I work on deal-brokering business, which has been pretty quiet lately, like it’s just … a sideshow.’

‘Or window-dressing?’

‘And they dress a shop window with dummies, right? I’m ahead of you, Nicholas. Funny guy, aren’t you?’

‘How could I attend the launch?’

‘You’d need an invitation. Without one … you won’t get past security.’

‘And these invitations are … hard to come by, are they?’

‘For you, impossible to come by.’

Nick stopped himself from smiling. ‘That’s a pity.’

‘Yeah. With Kristjan in a police cell, Abe, Caldwell and Ohara all missing and the little I can tell you still being way short of enough, I’d say you were out of options, Nicholas, wouldn’t you?’

Now Nick did smile – faintly. ‘We’ll see.’

Fjólugata 19 was an elegant whitewashed villa, boasting more of a garden than Nick had seen elsewhere in the city. The low boundary walls were topped with railings and the wrought-iron entrance gates were firmly closed. There was a bell and an intercom on the left-hand gate pillar, suggesting simply walking in wasn’t an option. A Bentley coupé stood on the sloping drive. Lights burned in several windows, but the blinds were closed.

The house was next door to the Norwegian embassy in what passed for Reykjavík’s diplomatic quarter. A gentle night had fallen and the last of the snow and ice was streaming away along pavements and gutters. From the far side of the road Nick gazed across and slightly up at what all the evidence suggested was his father’s Icelandic home from home.

‘Are you thinking of going across and ringing the bell?’ asked Erla. They were standing in the shade of a tree, well away from the nearest street lamp. It seemed unlikely anyone inside the house would be aware of their presence. But if Nick crossed the road and rang the bell, all that would change. And much else might change with it.

‘No,’ he answered quietly. ‘He’s here for the launch and that’s where I plan to meet him.’

‘What about the small problem of an invitation?’

‘I have that sorted.’

‘You do?’

‘I didn’t want Ragnar to know, but, yes, I have an invitation.’

‘How did you wangle that?’

‘Somebody gave me one to make me go away.’