Huldar refrained from pointing out that he barely knew her, in spite of their intimate encounter. ‘I had to ask. I guessed that was the case.’
‘How dare he? What the hell’s wrong with him?’
‘What was wrong with him, you mean. He’s dead.’
‘Good. I’m glad. Jesus. What exactly did he do with the video? Did he share it?’ Ugla’s horror was all too understandable. ‘Is it on the internet?’
‘No, not as far as we know. We believe he made these films for his own private use.’
‘Then I insist you delete it immediately. Jesus, what the hell are you lot thinking of? Don’t you have anything more important to investigate?’
The answer was no, but he wasn’t about to admit that. Helgi’s life appeared, on the surface at least, to have been singularly respectable, with the exception of this sleazy habit. ‘Do you remember the address of the property where the video was filmed?’
Ugla hung up on him. And didn’t answer when Huldar immediately called her back.
Chapter 24
Erla glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at her computer screen. It was the second time she’d done this since Huldar dropped by her office and he guessed she was waiting to hear that the Chinese delegation had left. He had come to tell her about Ugla and to request her permission to speak to the woman face to face, as little as he relished the thought.
‘Don’t bother me now. I need to concentrate.’ Sighing irritably, she added: ‘I just got a call from upstairs to tell me I’ve got to give a press conference. I can’t do it. They’ve given me no bloody warning.’
So this was the reason for today’s short fuse. The investigation was making next to no progress and now that the media had got wind of the murder, the pressure from upstairs for results must be intolerable. Not to mention totally counterproductive. The police simply didn’t have the resources to do everything necessary: interview witnesses, analyse the evidence they’d amassed so far, comb through Helgi’s complicated financial affairs, find out what had happened to Siggi’s parents, brief the rescue teams who were due to commence a major sweep for them, and examine the various computers they’d confiscated. The only tasks that could be ticked off the list so far were sorting through Helgi’s rubbish and going through the CCTV from the city centre, which Gudlaugur had finished in time for the progress meeting, only for it to be postponed once more because of the press conference.
Since Huldar sat opposite Gudlaugur, he had already seen the fruits of his work and knew that, while they wouldn’t solve the case, they did fill in a small but significant piece of the jigsaw. Gudlaugur had managed to track Helgi’s progress up Laugavegur, where he kept stopping to talk to a succession of dolled-up young women, all of them slim and leggy, with long blonde hair. It was obvious that he was trying without success to persuade them to go home with him. If he’d got lucky, the girl in question would no doubt have appeared in a video on his computer. It was their good fortune that they’d all turned him down; but Helgi’s failure had had lethal consequences for him.
Instead of bedding a blonde, he had fallen into the clutches of a sadistic killer.
From the CCTV footage, it seemed that Helgi’s communication with the other revellers had been limited almost exclusively to women. Only once could he be glimpsed talking to a man. The individual in question was holding a cigarette and appeared to be asking for a light, which Helgi couldn’t provide. If the smoker had been as drunk as he appeared to be in the recording, he could hardly have been the perpetrator, though of course there was always the possibility that he was acting. The plan was to put out a request for the man to come forward, in the hope of eliminating him from their inquiries.
Huldar didn’t say a word when he noticed that the video clip in which Gudlaugur blundered into the frame after Helgi was noticeably shorter than the other clips he had edited together. There were two longer sequences. In one, Helgi turned off Laugavegur into Vitastígur. In the second, he appeared on Skúlagata, walking towards the bar at the Kex Hostel, now carrying a beer bottle. As there was no CCTV on Vitastígur, there was no telling where he had acquired the beer. It had taken him over a quarter of an hour to cover a distance that should have taken him around four minutes, five at the most. There were no bars or restaurants in the vicinity, so it was impossible that Helgi could have got hold of the bottle that way. He also turned up earlier on another recording, crossing Hverfisgata, with no sign of a bottle at that point. So he must have acquired the beer somewhere on the short walk between Hverfisgata and Skúlagata.
Logically, therefore, he must have met someone who had given it to him. Whether this was the killer or someone else entirely had yet to be established, but one thing was certain: the individual in question could not have been on foot, since no other pedestrian had been picked up by the cameras at either end of the street after Helgi had emerged onto Skúlagata.
There was, however, a car. It turned and followed Helgi, hanging back a little, then drove up to him as he stood outside the entrance to the Kex Hostel, draining the bottle before going inside. Helgi could be seen bending down to the open window on the passenger side, saying something to the driver, then getting in. After that, the car drove away. What appeared to be the same car was later picked up by several other cameras on the roads leading out to Álftanes. There was no doubt about it: this was the vehicle that had taken Helgi to his death, which meant that the driver was almost certainly the killer. But in none of the shots could his face be seen.
The vehicle was a grey or silver Land Cruiser. Gudlaugur and Erla disagreed about the colour and Huldar was in two minds. Even more frustratingly, its registration number couldn’t be seen, making it almost impossible to identify the owner. The police had requested a list of all vehicles of this type in the country and were expecting it to run to several hundred, though if they could establish the exact model, they would be able to narrow it down a bit. Stills had been sent to the Land Cruiser dealership for this purpose.
The Rohypnol was now believed to have been in the beer Helgi had acquired on his way down Vitastígur. But since it would hardly have begun to take effect by the time Helgi climbed into the car, they deduced that he had either been acquainted with the driver or had been so drunk that his instincts had been blunted. Drunks tend to see a friend in every face. Other members of CID were now going through Saturday night’s footage from cameras near Siggi’s and Helgi’s homes, hunting for the Land Cruiser and Siggi’s parents’ Yaris. The loan company had confirmed that they still had their car, although it was due to be repossessed shortly.
The theory was that one or both vehicles would turn up, either fetching Siggi or dropping him off, and that this would also shed light on his parents’ movements. From what Gudlaugur had told Huldar, however, those entrusted with this task were getting nowhere. There was no camera in the residential streets near either address, and both neighbourhoods had numerous different access points, almost none of which were covered by CCTV.
This turned out not to be the only frustrating gap in the coverage. Huldar had been surprised, after watching the recordings from Helgi’s building, to discover that there was no security camera outside the entrance or covering the nearby parking spaces. He had been meaning to ask the technician from the security company why this was, but the man still hadn’t returned his call. He made a mental note to ask the caretaker when he dropped by to see him about the keys.
But before he did anything else, he needed to speak to Ugla. He opened his mouth to ask permission but Erla cut him off again: ‘Unless you’re about to give me tips for the press conference, you can shut up.’ She looked up from the screen, even more stressed than before. The Chinese delegation was clearly still on Icelandic soil. ‘As if I didn’t have enough to do already. This is a complete fucking waste of time. Since when have the public ever helped to solve a crime?’
Huldar shrugged and didn’t bother to point out that tip-offs from the public had frequently come in useful. She knew that as well as he did. It
was just the stress talking. Still, she had his complete sympathy this time, as nothing in their training had prepared them to stand up in front of a crowd of journalists to outline the progress of the inquiry and respond to awkward questions. It would make more sense to send them on a PR course than to yet another session on how to develop outstanding team skills or how to set objectives. Like him, Erla wasn’t particularly media friendly. He didn’t suffer fools gladly and Erla was forever on the verge of losing it; qualities that did not come across well on the evening news.
Still, at least she’d look good. Her uniform, which was customary on these occasions, suited her, enhancing her slim, muscular build. For once, she had put on lipstick too, which made her look almost benign – to those who didn’t know her. The effect was disturbingly sexy, as if she were wearing another woman’s mouth. But he mustn’t think like that. It was very, very unwise. Getting too close to Erla had already caused him more than enough grief and he had no intention of making that mistake again. Besides, he reckoned he finally had a foot in the door with Freyja, and he could be sure that door would slam in his face forever if she discovered he was messing around with Erla again.
But he was probably being presumptuous to think either of them would ever want anything more to do with him.
‘You’ll be fine, Erla. It’ll be over before you know it.’ This wasn’t quite true. A minute up there in front of the press could feel like an hour. ‘It’ll be a doddle.’ Yet another lie. But she needed a boost.
‘Huh.’ Erla wasn’t buying it. ‘I’m tempted to send Lína out there instead.’ Her face cracked in a rare grin. ‘She’d soon shut them up by droning on about the boring details.’
‘I reckon she could handle it.’ Huldar watched Lína through the glass wall. She was staring intently at her computer and intermittently making notes. ‘She’s good, Erla, and she’s going to turn into a useful officer. Don’t forget she’s only young. We were no better when we started out – in fact, we weren’t nearly as clued up.’
Erla scowled, her red lips turning down at the corners in an expression that reminded Huldar of Freyja’s little niece. He hoped the child would break into a smile when he took her out. One thing was sure: he wouldn’t be able to keep the grin off his own face once he was sitting next to Freyja.
Erla narrowed her gaze. ‘I need someone to stand behind me. These conferences always have that kind of set-up.’
Suspecting what was coming next, Huldar tried feebly to deflect it but in vain.
‘No buts. You’re coming too. You’re already in uniform.’ Huldar had changed to get rid of the stink of rubbish. It had been a choice between his uniform and the sports gear he’d been planning to wear to the gym after work.
Erla buttoned up her jacket. ‘And drag Lína and Gudlaugur along too.’
The press conference had gone much as expected. While not exactly endearing herself to the press, Erla had at least managed to rein in her temper. And her request for information had resulted in a flood of calls and emails from the public. Lína, who had been ordered to join the team manning the phones, now marched over to Huldar looking very smug indeed and waving a rolled-up sheet of paper. ‘At last!’ She came to a halt by his desk, smiling broadly, and laid the paper on his desk with a flourish. ‘The cigarette guy rang.’
‘You mean the one who asked Helgi for a light?’
‘Yes.’ Judging by Lína’s triumph over this minor result, she must have had to deal with more than one crank caller. ‘He recognised himself from the still and remembers it, more or less. He said he was very drunk at the time. But he called in, which is a good sign.’
‘Great.’ Huldar tried to match her enthusiasm. ‘Really great. Erla will be pleased.’ Picking up the sheet of paper, he read the man’s name and phone number. He wasn’t anyone who’d come up in connection with the inquiry. ‘Have there been many time-wasters?’
‘Quite a few.’ The excitement faded from Lína’s face. ‘Some of the calls were just stupid, some were based on a misunderstanding and others were plain nasty.’
‘Nasty in what way?’
‘One said he couldn’t give a shit about Helgi. Another man rang to say the same about Siggi’s parents. Mind you, he was drunk.’
‘What did the man have against him?’
‘He said Helgi had ripped off the Icelandic people. And the other man said Siggi’s parents were losers and scroungers. It was as if they thought a death sentence was a suitable punishment.’
‘You always get a few morons.’ She was so young that Huldar felt an urge to shield her from the knowledge of how large this group was. She’d find out for herself in due course. ‘No calls about the Land Cruiser?’
‘No. Not a single one.’
‘What about the Yaris?’
‘Two. But it turned out the cars they were talking about weren’t white, so they were a waste of time.’
Huldar was surprised that she hadn’t received more calls, given how common Yarises were in Iceland. The press conference had led on all the online news channels. It was the day’s most read story, so virtually no one could have missed the fact that the police were hunting for it.
‘Hadn’t you better tell Erla about the cigarette guy?’ Huldar handed back the sheet of paper.
Lína’s smile faded. ‘Yes. I just wanted to tell you first.’ She blushed slightly.
Huldar groaned inwardly, hoping that it was only because Lína had wanted to share the news with someone who would react kindly. The last thing he needed was for her to develop a crush on him. In a way he was asking for it by being the only person in CID who was nice to her. But following the fiasco with Erla, he had forbidden himself any further entanglements with female colleagues.
‘I didn’t know you were such a dab hand at drawing, Huldar.’ It was Jóel, Huldar’s least favourite colleague, who had just come indoors, bringing the cold with him. He gestured at Siggi’s drawing, still hanging on the wall above Huldar’s desk. Jóel had been part of the security unit guarding the Chinese delegation, but the minister had been safely ushered onto his plane while the press conference was going on. And now he was back. Which was a bloody nuisance. Over the years he and Huldar had traded insults, had numerous run-ins and even come to blows.
‘Or did the girl draw it?’ Jóel never referred to Lína by name. He called her either ‘the girl’ or ‘you there’ or ‘hey, embryo cop’.
‘Oh, just fuck off.’ Huldar couldn’t be bothered to come up with anything more subtle. In Jóel’s case, it paid to be direct.
‘Now, now, don’t take offence. Your drawing’s very nice.’ Jóel grinned sarcastically.
‘Shut the fuck up and piss off.’ Huldar gripped the arms of his chair, ready to stand up. If the man didn’t go of his own accord, he would have to help him on his way.
‘Whoa, take it easy. Mind you, I can understand why you’re in such a hurry to have me back at my desk. Now I’m here, the investigation will finally start getting somewhere. You two might as well go home.’
The joke was that Jóel wasn’t only the biggest arsehole at the station, he was also one of the worst detectives.
But Huldar let the prick have the last word. For Lína’s sake. He didn’t want to expose her to any more of this crap. As Jóel sauntered off, looking insufferably pleased with himself, Huldar rolled his eyes at Lína.
‘Thanks. I can’t stand him. He really gets up my nose.’ Lína put her head on one side and smiled ruefully. Huldar smiled back. She wasn’t only clever and hard-working, he reflected, she was also an excellent judge of character.
Chapter 25
This time the boys had put their foot down: there was no way they were meeting up at the Icelandic tourist trap again, so Thormar had had to come up with another venue in a hurry. All he’d been able to think of was the gym, but, as it turned out, he couldn’t have made a worse choice. The place was heaving. Even the sauna was full. Everywhere you looked, people were toiling away in garish Lycra or spandex, to their own pr
ivate soundtrack. Pumping iron, stretching, pulling or pushing on the equipment, flexing their muscles, scarlet with the strain. There was a queue for the treadmills where people were doing their best to burn off the Christmas calories. Others were posing in front of the mirror wall at the end of the room, drawing themselves up and grimacing as they scanned their bodies for any imperfections.
There was nowhere for three men to hold a private chat.
In the end, they had opted to perch in a row on the wooden bench at the back of the men’s changing rooms, keeping their voices to a murmur. Few of the other members took any notice, but one or two looked at them askance, as if they might be about to comment. No one actually did, though. Changing rooms had a way of inhibiting people.
‘I suggest we delete the site.’ Thormar was gripping his phone in the pocket of his gym hoodie. Mobile phones were frowned on in the changing rooms. He had put on the hoodie in a feeble attempt to blend in with the crowd, and Tommi had changed into his sports kit too. Gunni, in contrast, stood out like a sore thumb in his suit and overcoat. In hindsight, though, they might as well not have bothered to change. Their behaviour – skulking at the back of the room, conferring in low voices – already marked them out. Thormar added: ‘I don’t know why we didn’t think of it straight away.’
‘Delete it?’ Gunni reared back as if Thormar had suggested mass suicide as a way of solving their problems. ‘But I don’t have any copies. Do you?’
Tommi shook his head, but Thormar was fairly sure, seeing his shiftily lowered eyes, that he was lying. ‘If you’ve got any copies,’ he said, ‘I’d delete them. Maybe even throw out the computer they’re saved on, just to be on the safe side.’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ Gunni nudged Tommi for back-up. ‘There’s no need to freak out like this. The cops don’t know anything. If they did, they’d have hauled us all in by now. The only one they seem interested in is you, Thormar. After all, you and Helgi were best mates. It’s hardly strange if they want to talk to you. Jesus, man. Don’t be such a pussy.’
Gallows Rock - Freyja and Huldar Series 04 (2020) Page 22