‘Anyway, what was the cause of death? Hanging?’
‘Yes. Asphyxia caused by the noose around his neck. The nail in his chest hadn’t penetrated any vital organs. It would have been horribly painful but not fatal, unless he developed an infection.’
‘Nasty.’
‘Yes.’ Lína shuddered again. ‘I can’t begin to describe what it was like when the pathologist pulled out the nail. There was this sucking sound …’ She broke off.
‘That’s quite enough of that, thanks.’ Huldar had absolutely no wish to hear the grisly details. He hadn’t dodged the post-mortem only to be forced to listen to the audio version. ‘Anything else significant come to light?’
‘No. Except that Helgi was in great shape and very healthy. He seems to have taken good care of himself.’
‘What a waste of time that turned out to be.’ Huldar resisted the temptation to add that Helgi would have done better to take up smoking than to sweat it out in the gym.
Lína’s face suddenly lit up. ‘Oh. And another thing. It’s got nothing to do with the post-mortem, actually, but I looked into the history of the murder scene. Both the Gallows Rock itself and the surrounding area, in case there was any connection.’
‘And what did you find out?’
Lína smiled. ‘Loads. Too much, probably.’ She picked up a printout that had been painstakingly formatted like the summary she had read out to Erla earlier. ‘Right, the Gálgahraun lava-field is part of Búrfellshraun, which is believed to have formed about eight thousand years ago.’
Huldar was privately amused. He knew he ought to point out that this was hardly relevant but he didn’t want to spoil her moment since she seemed so pleased. Better let her finish reading, then borrow her pen and cross out anything superfluous before she presented it to Erla. Unfortunately, there would be nothing left if all the information was of this type.
‘Anyway. The lava-field derives its name from the cleft rock where we found Helgi: the “Gallows Rock”, where criminals were supposedly hanged and interred under piles of stones. Although there are no written records of executions being carried out there, apparently it was used for judicial punishments back in the days of the Kópavogur Assembly. The rocks are visible from Bessastadir, so the Danish king’s representative could watch without having to leave the house. Handy.’ Glancing up, she smiled apologetically. ‘Erla already mentioned the bit about executions on Sunday. Sorry.’
‘No problem. It never hurts to repeat things. Carry on.’
Heartened, Lína continued reading. ‘The lava-field is extremely rugged, full of craters, ridges, fissures and jumbled rocks, as you’ll remember.’ She paused. ‘I also checked out people and events linked to the area, both online and in the police database.’
‘And what did you find?’
‘Various things. The lava-field’s best known for the fact that Jóhannes Kjarval painted countless pictures of it.’ Seeing that Huldar was distinctly underwhelmed by this information, Lína added: ‘I realise that’s not really relevant in this case. But there’s more.’
Huldar crossed his fingers in the hope of finally hearing something relevant.
‘The area crops up several times in the police database. In October 2013 a number of protestors, calling themselves “Friends of the Lava”, were arrested while trying to block the construction of a road through the southern end of the lava-field.’
‘Did Helgi have any connection to the protestors?’
‘No. Not that I can see.’
‘Go on, then.’ Huldar was beginning to despair. There would be practically nothing left by the time he’d crossed out the irrelevant parts.
‘OK. In the last twenty years, three bodies have been washed up on the coast near the Gallows Rock. Eighteen years ago a sixty-year-old man, who had walked into the sea on the southern shore of Skerjafjördur, turned up there. Or rather his coat, shoes and wallet were found there. He’d been suffering from serious depression and the circumstances surrounding his death were not regarded as suspicious. Five years ago a young woman was found on the shore. She’s thought to have entered the sea in Fossvogur. She was also struggling with depression, but had so much alcohol in her blood that her death could have been an accident rather than suicide, though the latter’s more likely. Her body showed no signs of violence and her belongings were found at the top of the beach. Then, three years ago a man of twenty-eight was washed up there. He’d drowned while swimming in Nauthólsvík Cove and the current swept him over to Álftanes.’
‘Two suicides and one drowning.’
‘Yes.’
‘And we have no reason to believe that any of these deaths were suspicious?’
‘I’d need to look into the cases in more detail. But the conclusion of all the investigations was that there was no reason to suspect foul play.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Yes. One more recent case.’
‘Which is?’ Huldar’s interest was roused. Perhaps Lína had discovered a lead after all.
‘The police were called there last spring in connection with the illegal collection of eiderdown. Down theft, in other words.’
‘Down theft?’
‘Yes. There was a dispute between the local landowner and a man taking eiderdown from nests on his property without a permit. The thief was arrested and the case was sent to the prosecution service. It doesn’t look as if it went any further, though. At least, it never went to court and no fine was issued.’
‘Don’t tell me Helgi was one of the men involved?’
Lína’s face fell. ‘No, unfortunately. I can’t see any link. But guess what?’
‘What?’
‘The Gálgahraun lava-field borders a property called Selskard, which belongs to the family of none other than Bjarni Benediktsson, the ex-prime minister.’
Huldar found himself at a loss for words. Rubbing his jaw, he wondered which party Lína supported. Young, heart in the right place, keen. If she hadn’t been training to join the police, he’d have had her down as a Left-Green. ‘I think we can rest assured that Bjarni Benediktsson didn’t have anything to do with this, Lína. Or any other member of his family either.’
‘I know that.’ Lína sounded annoyed. ‘But Helgi was an investor and there are potential building sites on the property. Perhaps the killing had a political dimension.’
Huldar dismissed this far-fetched theory. ‘Do you mind if I go through and cross out the bits I think you should drop before you give this to Erla?’
Lína handed him the report and watched in dismay as he put a line through the bulk of the text. All that was left was the information from the police database. The two suicides, the drowning and the protest by the Friends of the Lava. ‘There you go. You’ll thank me later.’ He grinned at her but received no smile in return.
Gudlaugur had tilted his monitor. Only slightly, but just enough to prevent passers-by from seeing the screen. Erla, taken in by his fake limp, had given him the job he’d been angling for.
‘Any sign of Helgi?’ Huldar dropped heavily into his chair, trying not to spill his brimming coffee. The question he really wanted to ask was whether Gudlaugur had come across any footage of himself.
‘No. Not yet.’
Huldar guessed that although it would have made more sense to track Helgi from the bar, Gudlaugur would have begun by checking the CCTV from cameras close to the clubs he himself had visited that night, hoping that his and Helgi’s paths hadn’t crossed. The clubs he remembered, anyway. Going by the state of him on Sunday morning, he was bound to have a few gaps in his memory. Huldar sipped his coffee, then thought what the hell. ‘Have you spotted yourself yet?’ he asked. ‘The unexpurgated version?’
Gudlaugur was not amused. ‘I’m not looking for myself.’
‘No, right. My mistake.’ Huldar had to suppress a smile as he took another sip. He couldn’t deny that it was a pleasant sensation to watch someone else squirming for a change. ‘Tell me one thing. I promise to keep my m
outh shut, but what are you going to do with the clips you turn up in?’
‘I don’t suppose we’ll have been at the same bars, so if I do turn up, it’s unlikely the victim will be anywhere near.’ When Huldar didn’t comment, Gudlaugur hastened to add: ‘What I mean is, he was loaded, whereas I have to watch every króna. He’s sure to have been in the more exclusive bars.’
‘That’s where you’re wrong.’ Huldar jumped at this chance to spin out the conversation. ‘When people are drunk, they’re happy to slum it. They just want to go where the action is. And that’s usually where the younger, less well-off crowd hangs out. I wouldn’t be too confident, if I were you.’
‘I’m not worried about turning up on camera with him. Believe me.’
‘Fine. In that case, what’s that pub you’re checking out? I thought you were meant to be searching the exclusive bars for Helgi?’
Gudlaugur hesitated. Lying didn’t come naturally to him. In the end he tried to wriggle out of it by firing back at Huldar: ‘Does it matter?’
‘Nope. Just curious. I don’t spend much time in swanky bars, so I was wondering if I’d recognise the one you’re looking at.’
‘I very much doubt you’d know it.’ Gudlaugur lapsed into silence. All that could be heard was the clicking of his mouse. Then he pushed back his chair and got up, saying he was going to fetch a coffee.
‘Don’t forget to limp.’ Huldar smirked as he watched his colleague hobble over to the coffee machine. Gudlaugur kept glancing over his shoulder, clearly worried that Huldar was going to sneak a look at his computer. But the thought hadn’t occurred to him. He didn’t need visual confirmation that he was right about what Gudlaugur was up to. When Gudlaugur came limping back, he was still sitting in the same place, feet up on the desk, nursing his coffee cup. And there he stayed as Gudlaugur clicked his mouse, resumed the playback and shortly afterwards emitted a groan.
Clearly, he had found himself on film and, by the sound of it, Helgi was there too.
At first, Huldar pretended not to have noticed. He sat there, wondering how he ought to react. Then, slapping his hands on his armrests, he stood up, went round to Gudlaugur’s side and said: ‘Show me.’
Gudlaugur had hastily closed the window on his screen. ‘Oh, look, it was nothing important. I think Helgi walked past. Alone. It’s irrelevant apart from charting his movements for the timeline. We’re bound to come across more sightings. There are about forty cameras downtown, on top of all the ones in bars that they’re still collecting footage from.’
‘Show me,’ Huldar said again, firmly but without heat. He wasn’t angry, he just wanted to stop Gudlaugur from doing something foolish that could get him into trouble later on.
Gudlaugur opened his mouth to object, then shrugged and maximised the window again. A view of Laugavegur high street in weekend mode appeared on screen. The camera was angled to show the pavement on the southern side of the street, up to the corner of Klapparstígur. The digital display showed the time as 1.30 a.m.
To begin with, there was no sign of Helgi. People swarmed past, in various states of intoxication and dishevelment. The interaction between those who stopped to talk to one another was wildly exaggerated, like actors in a children’s TV show. Arms waved, people staggered backwards with roars of laughter. The fact that it was the middle of winter didn’t seem to cramp their style one bit, but then the weather had been unusually good for the time of year: cold and dry with not a breath of wind.
The man who had just entered the picture stopped dead and turned towards a young woman walking alone down the pavement. As he did so, his face became visible and Huldar agreed with Gudlaugur that it was definitely Helgi. The woman who had caused him to stop in his tracks was slim with long blonde hair. It was impossible to tell what passed between them but their brief exchange ended with each going their separate ways, she towards Lækjartorg Square, he towards Hlemmur.
Huldar saw Gudlaugur’s fingers fidgeting on the mouse as if he wanted to stop the video. At that moment he appeared on screen with his arm around another man. They paused to exchange a passionate kiss before continuing on their way and vanishing from view. Their behaviour was no different from that of the other revellers; they were obviously a bit the worse for wear and having a good time.
Gudlaugur stopped the recording. Neither of them said anything until Huldar finally broke the embarrassed silence. ‘That’s nothing, mate. If I’d been downtown with a woman on my arm there’d have been a lot more going on, I can tell you. Don’t worry about it.’
‘I’m going to delete it. From the moment Helgi carries on walking up Laugavegur. The bit with me in it doesn’t add anything.’
‘You don’t know that. One of the people in the shot could turn out to be the killer, trailing Helgi. Not you of course, or the bloke you’re with, but one of the others.’ Huldar waved at all the other frozen figures on screen. ‘It wouldn’t be a good idea to tamper with the file, Gudlaugur. Don’t do it.’
Gudlaugur slowly shook his head in resignation. ‘Great.’
‘No, not “great”. Shit. Just as shit as if it was me, drunk, with my arm round a woman. Or Erla. Or any other member of the team. It’s embarrassing, but no more for you than anyone else. Even a dope like me can see that.’
Gudlaugur didn’t answer. What was there to say?
Chapter 12
Erla watched the recording expressionlessly. Then rewound and watched it again, still with the same poker face. Afterwards, she looked up and met Huldar’s eye. ‘And? Is this supposed to be a problem?’
Huldar shrugged. ‘Not in my opinion and clearly not in yours either, but Gudlaugur’s uncomfortable about it and I can understand why. I wouldn’t want the whole department to see me drunkenly snogging some woman.’
While Erla watched it for a third time, Huldar shifted from foot to foot in front of her desk. He always found it excruciatingly embarrassing to discuss anything to do with sex or relationships with Erla, given their history. But right now it was more important to help Gudlaugur.
‘I don’t understand why he’s being so squeamish about it.’ Erla pushed her mouse away. ‘Being gay’s not an issue any more in Iceland. Maybe you should point that out to him. Seems to me like he’s the one with the problem.’
‘Not everyone in the department has moved with the times, Erla. You must know that some of the guys are still total Neanderthals. I expect they’re the ones Gudlaugur’s worried about. It would only take one or two of them to make his life hell, even if the rest of us aren’t bothered.’ He avoided mentioning Jóel, though that prick was the main offender. If Jóel discovered Gudlaugur’s weak spot, he’d lose no opportunity to make his life hell.
‘Yeah, yeah, I’m well aware a few of the lads still take the piss, but, as far as I can tell, it doesn’t go that deep. I’m sure they’d make an exception for Gudlaugur. After all, he’s one of us.’
Huldar disagreed but knew he had to tread carefully. Anyway, prolonging the conversation was unlikely to achieve anything since people rarely changed their minds during an argument, himself included. And Erla was so pig-headed that she was more likely to defend her position with all guns blazing than to admit to seeing sense.
When he didn’t protest, Erla said: ‘Look at it this way: if the situation’s as bad as you say, it’s better to get it out in the open. If everyone hides their sexuality, nothing’s ever going to change.’
‘I think Gudlaugur should be allowed to choose when and how he comes out to his colleagues.’ When Huldar had told Gudlaugur that he couldn’t care less if he wanted to stay in the closet, Gudlaugur had retorted furiously that just because he didn’t choose to discuss his sex life with his colleagues, that didn’t mean he was in the closet. It was simply none of their business. Huldar could understand that attitude. Personally, he had zero interest in hearing about his workmates’ private lives and even less in sharing the details of his own. Seeing that Erla remained unconvinced, he added: ‘All right then, have you considere
d this? There are around seven hundred police officers in Iceland, about five hundred of whom are men. How many do you know who are openly gay?’
‘I know about three. Or four.’ Erla seemed irritated at not being able to name a higher number. ‘But then I don’t know them all, Huldar. Any more than you do.’ She paused. ‘It doesn’t exactly make my life easier that Gudlaugur appears so soon after Helgi exits. You do realise we’ll have to watch the recordings to check if someone was following Helgi? So I can’t agree to deleting the footage. Gudlaugur will just have to accept that the interests of the investigation take precedence over his right to privacy. I’m sorry but there it is.’
‘But—’
‘No buts, Huldar. We’re investigating the murder of a rich investor who seems to have been well liked. When the story goes public, the media spotlight will be trained on us, so we’d better have done everything by the bloody book. “Wealthy financier in gruesome gallows execution.” Can you imagine the sensation? The media will be falling over themselves to report that, rather than some dull footage of the Chinese foreign minister waiting for a geyser to blow. The only reason the switchboard isn’t jammed with calls is that the original verdict was suicide and the official story hasn’t changed yet. But now the post-mortem’s over, we can’t hide behind the uncertainty any longer.’ Erla folded her arms, staring Huldar in the eye. ‘The inquiry has to be beyond reproach. I’m not budging on that. Unlike you, I want to hang on to this job.’
Huldar couldn’t argue with any of this. But perhaps a compromise was possible. ‘Simple solution: let Gudlaugur carry on viewing the footage. If it turns out that Helgi was being followed and the individual in question turns up at the same time as Gudlaugur, he’ll just have to live with it.’
Erla mulled this over for a moment.
Gallows Rock - Freyja and Huldar Series 04 (2020) Page 10