The place had zero charm. In one corner there was a play area, consisting of a large plastic slide and a ball-pit hardly any bigger than a bathtub. These offerings held no attraction for the scattering of children in there at this late hour. Instead, they sat with their adult companions, staring dully at the toys that came with the kids’ meals.
Saga licked the ketchup off her finger and stuck it straight back in the bowl. ‘Eat up.’ Freyja picked up a small chunk of what purported to be chicken and held it to Saga’s lips. The little girl wrenched her head away.
‘Try dipping it in ketchup. That might work.’
Freyja raised her head, startled. Who should it be but Huldar, armed with a tray of the same kind of junk that was still sitting wrapped in front of her: burger, chips and Coke.
‘Mind if I join you?’
She could hardly say no.
Huldar squeezed into the booth, sitting unnecessarily close, though there was plenty of room. Feeling his thigh against hers, she couldn’t help enjoying the warmth he gave off. She was also grateful that he didn’t seem in the least shocked to find her out so late with Saga. He was in a much better mood than he had been at the care home earlier, presumably because Didrik wasn’t around. Being cheerful suited him.
‘How’s the search for Siggi’s mother going?’ Freyja tried dipping the chicken piece in ketchup as Huldar had suggested. Saga, taken in by this trick, bit off a chunk, chewed it and swallowed. ‘Are you getting anywhere?’
‘Oof.’ Huldar unwrapped his burger. ‘Can I trust you not to repeat any of this?’
‘Of course. You know you can.’ Freyja pushed her tray away. She’d lost what little appetite she’d had and was far more interested in hearing what Huldar had to say. ‘Maybe I could help. Supply a bit of insight.’ She smiled at him and he smiled back. For once, neither smile was artificial or forced. ‘But first, how did you manage to find out his parents’ names?’
Huldar took a bite of burger, polishing off half of it in one go, and washed it down with a swig of Coke before answering. He had ketchup in the corner of his mouth. ‘Sorry, can’t tell you that.’
‘From A&E, I suppose?’
‘I can’t say.’ He stuck a chip in his mouth. ‘You’re not the only one who knows how to be discreet. But I can tell you that it looks as if she was the victim of domestic abuse. And also that she’s definitely pregnant.’
Freyja’s gaze had returned to Saga but she looked round at that. ‘I’d already heard about the abusive husband. How far along is she?’
‘Eight months.’
‘Oh God.’ Freyja didn’t know what to say. Having never been pregnant herself, she wouldn’t be able to shed any light on the woman’s probable mental state, if that’s what Huldar was hoping.
But it seemed that wasn’t what he wanted. ‘Do you know anything about domestic abuse?’
‘A little. Enough to know that it’s extremely complicated. Are you wondering why women like her don’t just leave their abusive partners?’
Huldar attacked his burger again, leaving nothing but a single mouthful. Not bad: a whole burger in three bites. ‘Do you know any women in that situation?’ he asked.
‘Probably. But if I do, I’m not aware of it. Victims tend to cover up for their abuser, regardless of their sex. In fact, it’s even more common when the victims are men.’
Huldar muttered something that Freyja took to be sympathy with this attitude. He didn’t seem like the type who would report anything that happened to him, especially not if he came off worse in a fight with a woman. Not that this was likely for a big, strong guy like him. But the four walls of home weren’t like a boxing ring in which the person who got knocked down was automatically the loser. Nor was it purely a question of bodily strength. Although physical blows came into it, the real damage could be caused by the mental injuries, which were decisive in determining who came out on top.
‘It’s messy, Huldar. I don’t have much direct experience but we sometimes deal with the fallout from these cases at the Children’s House. Even though we don’t treat the adults, we do get an insight into the living hell it creates because of the impact it has on the kids.’
‘I’ve had a bit of experience myself. Back when I was in the regular police I encountered a few cases and was bloody relieved to see the back of them, to be honest. They were a nightmare to deal with and our intervention never achieved much.’ Huldar took another slug of Coke. ‘I remember one woman who we persuaded to press charges after a series of brutal assaults left her with a broken nose and cheekbone, a fractured skull and two missing front teeth. But the day she was due to testify in court she withdrew her statement, claiming a bowl had fallen off the top shelf of a cupboard onto her head. She was sitting there in the courtroom, face permanently disfigured, lying to protect the bastard who did it. You almost never get that with other types of crime.’
Saga lobbed a chip at Freyja’s head, annoyed at being ignored. Unfortunately she had dipped it in ketchup first, so it left a red streak in Freyja’s blonde hair when she removed it.
‘Want me to lick it off?’ Huldar winked at Freyja. You had to hand it to him, he could turn anything into an attempt at flirtation.
Instead of allowing herself to be sidetracked, Freyja reached for a napkin and wiped away the sticky mess as well as she could. ‘So you think Siggi’s father could be behind their disappearance?’ She hoped he would say no, but he nodded.
‘Looks like it.’
‘Do they think he killed her?’ Although her instinct told her it was likely, Freyja prayed that he would say no.
‘Well, we just don’t know, of course, but it’s a strong possibility, I’m afraid. It’s difficult to come up with any other explanation. But we could be wrong. Not everything is consistent with that scenario.’
‘Oh?’ Freyja turned her attention back to Saga to avoid being pelted with any more food.
‘Well, Forensics seached for blood-stains but couldn’t find any signs of heavy blood loss. The place did light up like a Christmas tree, but it turned out to be small spatters of blood here and there, which almost certainly didn’t all result from the same attack. We concluded that they were more likely to be evidence of a long period of sustained violence.’
Feeling slightly sick, Freyja offered Huldar her untouched burger and he accepted it gratefully, after asking twice if she was absolutely sure. Then she went on pumping him for information: ‘Surely that increases the chances that she’s still alive, then?’
‘Death doesn’t necessarily involve spraying blood all over the place, you know. She could have been strangled. Or drowned in the bathtub. Or received a blow that caused a fatal internal haemorrhage. Or a combination of the above.’
Freyja silently pushed her chips over to him as well.
‘Bud.’ Saga had got hold of a new word to add to her limited vocabulary. Mummy, Daddy, Freyja, Molly, sweeties, no, bad, walkies and now blood. What else did a person need? If her mother asked, Freyja would claim that she was trying to say ‘brother’. Hastily, she dipped another nugget of chicken substitute in the tomato sauce and popped it in the little girl’s mouth in the hope that she would forget the word.
‘The big question now is what links the couple to the owner of the flat where Siggi was found. We’ve looked into every aspect of their lives but these people have literally nothing in common.’
‘They weren’t at school together or neighbours when they were kids?’ As soon as she’d said it, Freyja realised how naive she was being. Of course the police would already have looked into these possibilities. But instead of rubbing her nose in it, Huldar merely said:
‘No. They weren’t the same age. Siggi’s mother is two years younger than Helgi and his father is a year older. Neither of them was in the same class as him at school, or even at the same school. They didn’t grow up in the same part of town, so they can’t have been neighbours as kids or later. They’ve never worked at the same places, belonged to the same clubs, or even gone t
o the same gym. They seem to have moved in totally different worlds.’ Huldar paused for a swig of Coke. ‘But of course there’s a connection somewhere. It could be through a third party but it’s there. It’s got to be. That’s what we’re looking into now. It’s just a pity we’re so bloody short-staffed thanks to the Chinese minister’s visit. Still, he’s going home tomorrow, thank God, and after that we’ll have more manpower. I can just picture Erla showing up at the airport with balloons to give him a send-off.’
Freyja found it easier to picture her togged up in Rambo gear, chasing the minister onto the plane at gunpoint. ‘So, why do you think Siggi was taken to the flat?’
‘Our best theory so far is that Siggi’s father must have left him there to make sure he was found. But it’s unthinkable that the boy wouldn’t have recognised his own father, even if he had covered his face, so the man must have got someone else to do it. Anyway, that theory’s obviously based on the assumption that the father was responsible for bumping off both Helgi and Siggi’s mother.’
‘Where is he now, then?’
Huldar shrugged and started unwrapping the waxed paper from Freyja’s burger. ‘Your guess is as good as mine. He could have killed himself, fled abroad or done a runner here in Iceland. We’ll find him sooner or later – I hope.’
Freyja held a paper cup of orange juice to Saga’s lips and tilted it. The girl took one sip, then refused to drink any more. ‘Bud,’ she announced. So much for Freyja’s hope that she would forget.
She turned back to Huldar. ‘They haven’t decided yet whether Siggi should stay in temporary care or go to his grandmother. The poor kid.’
‘God, the system’s callous.’
‘It might look like that but it isn’t really. The decision has to be based on careful consideration. His situation is extremely unusual and they would never normally hand over a child as young as him to anyone other than his parents.’
Huldar seemed to accept this. At least, he didn’t argue with what she’d said. She went on to tell him about her conversation with the boy’s grandmother. But Huldar, who seemed to have heard it all already, merely nodded and used the time to eat. The only detail that elicited the slightest interest from him was her account of Sigurlaug’s abortive return to work. He stuffed three chips into his mouth and swallowed, before remarking that this hadn’t come up when the police interviewed her. But after learning that it had happened three and a half years ago, he lost interest again.
Freyja had nothing more to tell. She had also run out of questions to ask about the case. No doubt they’d start pinging into her mind again the moment she was alone. ‘Can I ask you something that has nothing to do with the investigation?’
‘Sure, ask away. If you want to know if I’m free this weekend, the answer is yes.’
Freyja smiled. ‘No, actually. What I wanted to ask is whether you know if anyone in Iceland keeps snakes as pets.’
Huldar burst out laughing. ‘That’s exactly why I want to ask you out. No one could accuse you of being boringly predictable, Freyja.’ When she ignored this and merely waited for him to answer, he said: ‘Sure they do. We come across all kinds of weird and wonderful creatures when conducting house searches, usually in connection with drugs. Tarantulas, lizards, amphibians, snakes, you name it. They all get humanely destroyed. Why do you ask?’
‘Oh, it was just that someone mentioned it at work and I found it so unbelievable I thought I’d check with you.’ She turned to Saga in case her face betrayed her. Seeing that the little girl had had enough, Freyja picked up a napkin and began to wipe her face, an operation that was greeted with indignation. ‘Have there been any cases of people being injured – you know, like bitten? Or squeezed to death?’
‘Is that what you’ve heard?’
When Freyja made a noncommittal noise, Huldar answered, ‘As far as I know, nobody’s ever been attacked by a snake in Iceland. But quite a few have had a nasty dose of salmonella. It’s a common side effect of keeping reptiles.’
Freyja felt her interest in the flat rapidly cooling. ‘I see. Thanks.’
‘You’re welcome.’ Huldar finished the second burger, scrunched up the wrappers and then grinned at Saga. ‘I’d like to invite you for a meal. Name the day.’
‘That’s a kind offer, but no thanks.’ Freyja reached for Saga’s hat and coat. It was time to go.
‘I wasn’t talking to you – I was talking to her.’ Huldar pointed at Saga. ‘We’re good mates. And what’s more, we have the same taste in restaurants.’
Freyja smiled. ‘Yeah, right.’
‘No, I’m serious. I’m inviting her out to dinner.’
‘And I’m passing, on her behalf.’
‘She’s old enough to speak for herself, isn’t she?’ Huldar winked at Saga, who chose that moment to test whether the napkin was edible.
Freyja removed it from the child’s grasp and peeled shreds of paper off her tongue, which Saga had stuck out when the napkin failed the taste test. ‘Well, Saga, do you want to go out for a meal with Huldar?’ she asked, confident that the answer would be no. Saga’s answer to everything was ‘no’, even when she meant ‘yes’.
Saga frowned and Freyja repeated the question. ‘Do you want to go for supper with Huldar, Saga?’
‘Yeth.’ Would you know it? A new word for her vocabulary – with the worst possible timing.
‘See!’ Huldar gave Freyja a nudge. ‘Shame you’ll have to come along too. She’s far too young to go out without a chaperone.’ He slid out of the booth, took his tray and said goodbye, looking pleased with himself. ‘I’ll be in touch.’
Freyja sat there speechless beside her traitor of a niece. As she watched Huldar leave, snatches of their night together replayed in her mind. The memories were hazy, as they had both been drunk at the time, but she could still remember how amazing he had been in bed. Bloody Huldar Jónas.
She shook herself, firmly pushing the thought away. Clearly, it was too long since she’d seen any action.
Having dressed Saga in her outdoor clothes, Freyja perched her on her hip and headed for the exit. As they passed the counter, Freyja pointed to the illuminated photo of an ice-cream on the wall above the heads of the apathetic staff. An ideal opportunity to try out the new word in the little girl’s arsenal as she was always in the mood for ice-cream. ‘Would you like an ice-cream, Saga?’
Frowning longingly at the picture, Saga opened her downturned mouth and enunciated firmly: ‘No.’
Chapter 20
Tuesday
The interview room was already oppressively stuffy. The air conditioning must have broken down again, as there wasn’t so much as a hiss from the grille. Instead, thick clumps of dust hung motionless in the vents. It didn’t make much difference, though, since the atmosphere had been singularly flat even before they went in.
Huldar had turned up that morning freshly shaven, breakfasted and all set to watch more porn, only to discover that Erla had other plans for him. She was going to talk to one of Helgi’s closest friends, the dentist Thormar, who had been with him the evening he died, and she wanted Huldar to join her. He chose to interpret his increased popularity with his boss as a sign of how short-staffed they were. Erla must see this interview as potentially significant because she had postponed the progress meeting in the hope that a solid lead would emerge.
Thormar had opted to come down to the station rather than receive a visit from the police at home or at work. This was a common reaction – it never looked good to have the authorities knocking on your door – which meant they shouldn’t read too much into it. Instead, they would, as usual, have to rely on other clues during questioning, such as inconsistencies in his statement or signs that he was unnaturally stressed, or catching him out in a lie.
In this case, the subject proved hard to read. His distress seemed genuine: according to Erla he’d got quite a shock when she told him why they wanted to talk to him, and he didn’t seem to have recovered yet. But he was eager to help when it ca
me to describing the events of that last evening with Helgi and telling them stories about his friend, whether recent or from their shared past. And yet there was something about the man – Huldar couldn’t put his finger on it. He was like one of those supermarket sushi trays: almost authentic, but not quite. There was a faint whiff of the dental clinic about him too, which made Huldar feel slightly nauseous.
‘Of course I can’t remember a hundred per cent of what happened. We were drinking, so my memory’s a bit patchy. But I’ve tried to piece together the details and I’ve been through the transactions on my credit card for confirmation.’ Thormar handed them a bank statement apparently printed out from his online account.
Erla took the sheet of paper with barely a glance. They could examine its contents later, while verifying that it was authentic. ‘So the last place you remember seeing him was at 101 Bar?’
‘Yes. He went to the gents. I passed him on my way back from there. But he didn’t return to our table afterwards.’
‘Didn’t you and your friends find that a bit odd?’
‘Yes, but, like I said, we’d been putting it away, Helgi especially. Time passes quickly when you’re drinking. It took us a while to notice that he’d been gone an unusually long time, but we weren’t worried when it finally dawned on us that he’d left. Like I said, he was wasted. You never know what people will do in that sort of state.’
‘What did you all think had happened?’
Thormar expelled a breath. ‘Well, I can’t speak for the others, but I assumed he’d just had enough. Or that he hadn’t been able to find us again because a large group had come in and were standing around our table. They were friends of one of our gang – members of Gunni’s fly-fishing club, I think. They’d had their annual dinner but Gunni had chosen to meet up with us instead. Anyway, there was a whole crowd of them, so it’s possible Helgi couldn’t see us and got confused. He was pretty hammered, like I said.’
Gallows Rock - Freyja and Huldar Series 04 (2020) Page 18