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But . . .’
    ‘Were you friends?’ Magnus asked gently.
    ‘Yes,’ said Erika. ‘Yes, we were. I’ve known him for a year or so. We’ve worked together on some projects.’
    ‘Stories?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Tell me a bit about him. He was a journalist?’
    ‘Not exactly. In fact he used to be a banker of some kind. Worked for a hedge fund in London trading oil futures or something. He said he was originally a geologist.’ Erika smiled.
‘That’s why he was so eager to see the volcano. Anyway, he gave up the hedge fund business a couple of years ago.’
    ‘To do what?’
    ‘I’m not sure, exactly. I know he had saved up some money. He was a bit of an idealist.’
    ‘Were you and he having a relationship?’ Magnus asked.
    ‘Oh, no,’ said Erika. ‘He’s married. Three small kids, I think. His family are in Milan now.’ She closed her eyes. ‘Someone’s going to have to tell his
wife.’
    ‘Do you know her?’
    ‘Not well,’ said Erika. ‘Her name is Teresa. I stayed with them once in Italy. I have their address and phone number.’
    ‘If you give it to us, we can do it,’ Magnus said. ‘We’ll call her right away.’
    Erika smiled. ‘Thanks.’
    ‘Did he have any enemies as far as you know?’
    ‘None that I know of. Nico didn’t make enemies. He was just a great guy. Big smile; nothing was too much trouble for him. You know, one of those people everyone loves.’
    ‘You’ll miss him,’ said Magnus softly.
    ‘Yeah,’ said Erika. ‘I’ll miss him.’ She took out a tissue and blew her nose. ‘I’m sorry. It’s been a rough night.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Magnus. ‘Yes, it has. Just a couple more questions. I don’t understand why Nico was in Iceland. If he wasn’t a journalist, I mean.’
    Erika pulled herself together. Looked Magnus straight in the eye. Too straight. ‘I told you. He knew about volcanoes.’
    ‘Yes, but he wasn’t an expert, was he?’ Magnus said. ‘I mean he’s not a, what do you call them, vulcanologist? Or is he?’
    ‘No. But he was a friend and he wanted to come.’
    ‘To help you with your article?’
    ‘Yes.’
    Magnus examined Erika. This wasn’t quite right. She was sitting up straight now, alert. She had been shattered a moment before. Something about his questions had caused her to raise
her defences. To look him straight in the eye.
    ‘You say you are a journalist. So who do you write for?’
    ‘I’m freelance,’ Erika said.
    ‘What about the others out there?’
    ‘They are freelance too.’
    ‘I see. So who have you written for? Anyone I would have heard of?’
    ‘The Washington Post . The Chicago Tribune . A lot of online stuff.’
    ‘Online stuff?’
    Erika nodded.
    ‘So if I were to Google you, your name would come up?’
    Erika shrugged. ‘I guess.’
    There was a computer screen on the desk by Magnus in the interview room, but it was blank. Magnus turned to his colleague.
    ‘Árni, have you got that iPhone you’re always talking about?’
    ‘Right here.’
    ‘Can you Google Erika Zinn?’
    ‘Sure.’ Árni pulled out his little gadget and tapped. Erika watched Árni. Magnus watched Erika. He knew he was on to something.
    ‘Jesus,’ said Árni. Magnus saw Erika close her eyes. Árni handed the gadget to Magnus.
    Magnus tapped and scrolled, skimming the words on the tiny screen. ‘Tell me about Freeflow, Erika.’
    Erika didn’t reply.
    Magnus tapped on a link to Freeflow’s website. ‘That’s weird. Doesn’t seem to be the kind of site that would be interested in volcanoes. What’s this? African arms
deals? Bribing Italian judges? Ah, Icelandic banks. But no volcanoes.’
    ‘You speak very good English.’
    ‘Freeflow?’
    ‘Are you sure you are not an American?’
    ‘I was born here,’ said Magnus. ‘But I have lived most of my life in Boston.’
    ‘And you?’ Erika asked Árni.
    ‘I went to college in the States,’ said Árni. ‘Indiana.’ Although Árni’s English was good, his Icelandic accent was