The caretaker examined the picture, then handed it back. ‘That’s not really very helpful. It could be anyone. But his height sounds about right. He was my kind of height but much more heavily built. Much bigger than the man in that photo.’
‘So the picture doesn’t ring any bells? You don’t recognise this man from somewhere else?’
‘No. Sorry. Judging by his clothes you can be pretty sure he doesn’t live in this building.’
Huldar held out the next photo. ‘How about this man, then?’
The caretaker took the printout and studied the picture, then looked up wonderingly. ‘Yes. Would you believe it? That’s him. Who is he?’
Huldar didn’t answer but, catching Gudlaugur’s eye, raised his eyebrows meaningfully. At last. They thanked Doddi and asked him to drop by the station the following day to give a formal statement. Before leaving, Huldar asked him if there were any CCTV cameras monitoring the nearby parking spaces. The caretaker, still rather dazed, explained that no one had been willing to install cameras outside the building as they all kept their cars in the underground garage. In other words, the residents hadn’t wanted to shell out for the surveillance of other people’s vehicles. Then he offered a rather lame apology for not having brought up the incident of the madman himself, claiming that he’d acted out of a desire to protect the dead man’s reputation and hadn’t wanted to cast a shadow on it by referring to a one-off event that had almost certainly had nothing to do with him. Neither Huldar nor Gudlaugur made any attempt to relieve the man’s conscience. The fact was that if only he’d come clean about it straight away, they would have spotted the link between Helgi and Siggi’s father much earlier. Now they just had to find out what had driven Margeir to try to batter the murder victim’s door down. Finally, finally, they were getting somewhere.
Chapter 27
Wednesday
Huldar reclined in his chair, watching over his colleagues’ heads as Erla briefed them on the latest developments. The decision to skulk at the back was a hangover from his school days, an attempt to avoid being dragged up to the front. At least there was no danger of that here: Erla was unlikely to summon any of them to the board, hand them a piece of chalk and order them to solve the equation. Or recite a poem by heart.
She had reviewed the current state of the inquiry, bringing them up to date with the areas where progress of sorts had been made. When she played the edited CCTV footage from Laugavegur, Huldar noticed Gudlaugur slumping down in his chair like a doomed man, unable to relax until she pressed ‘Stop’. Huldar knew that everyone present would have reacted in the same way as Gudlaugur in the circumstances: no one wanted their work colleagues to see them out on the town, the worse for wear. It made no difference whether they were attracted to their own or the opposite sex. It was a shame he didn’t dare raise the subject with Gudlaugur.
Erla still hadn’t reported yesterday evening’s breakthrough. Huldar, who was beginning to think she wasn’t going to, couldn’t understand why not. The link between Siggi’s father Margeir and the murder victim was a major milestone in the investigation, however obscure the details.
‘Any of you lot got something to add?’ Erla looked searchingly around their faces. Huldar got the feeling that her gaze lingered longest on him but that was probably just his guilty conscience. This would be the perfect moment to report that he had recognised one of the women in the sex videos. But he kept his mouth shut, excusing his behaviour to himself on the grounds that he was respecting Ugla’s privacy. It would be better to tell Erla one-to-one. So far, his feeble attempts to do so had been frustrated. Yesterday evening she hadn’t been interested in discussing anything but the caretaker’s statement, and by the time Huldar had turned up to work this morning, she had been shut away in an interview room with that bastard Jóel, questioning Gunnar Bergsson, another of Helgi’s friends. As Huldar hadn’t been invited to partner her on this occasion, he’d had to wait until the progress meeting to hear what had emerged.
Little of interest, it seemed. According to Erla, Gunnar had told essentially the same story as Thormar. His account of the fatal evening had been broadly consistent with his friend’s, though there were more holes in his version, since he had obviously been considerably drunker. He didn’t recognise the bed in the videos and wasn’t aware that Helgi had owned any property in Iceland apart from the luxury flat and the summer house. He claimed not to know Siggi or his parents either.
Nevertheless, Erla reported that Gunnar had betrayed signs of being unnaturally agitated during questioning, despite making a visible effort to come across as relaxed. Jóel agreed, but had little else to contribute. He also seconded Erla’s opinion that Gunnar had probably known in advance what they were going to ask him, despite his claim that he hadn’t spoken to Thormar.
Erla added that there were no plans to take an official statement from Tómas, the other friend who had been with Helgi on the night he was killed. It would be a waste of time listening to him trotting out the story they already had in duplicate. A phone call would have to suffice for now, though that might change as the picture became clearer. Erla briefly summarised the results of the other interviews that had been conducted, including one with Siggi’s uncle, who had done little but express the same suspicions as others who knew the couple – that Margeir was a nasty piece of work who had subjected Sigurlaug to mental and physical abuse. But the uncle hadn’t been able to shed any light on the couple’s disappearance, let alone provide any clues to their whereabouts. He hadn’t known Helgi and, as far as he knew, neither had his sister or brother-in-law.
The connection between them remained tantalisingly obscure, though the caretaker’s statement removed all doubt that it existed.
When Erla resumed her update, it was to break this piece of news. Huldar smiled approvingly. The human relations side of the job wasn’t usually her forte: on past performance she was more likely to tear a strip off her team about slacking than provide encouragement. But she proved cannier than he’d given her credit for: closing the meeting with their small piece of progress was a brilliantly effective boost to morale.
Huldar watched his colleagues sit up straighter as Erla filled them in on Margeir’s visit to Helgi’s flat. At last the investigation had turned up something of interest. Erla finished by announcing that Margeir Arnarson was now their number one suspect for Helgi’s murder.
This time when Erla invited questions there was no shortage of raised hands, the most eager of which was Lína’s porcelain-white one. Erla ignored her, but it wasn’t personal as she ignored the others as well. It seemed her question had been purely rhetorical. ‘I expect you want to know if this conclusion is based entirely on the evidence I’ve just described. The answer is no. There’s more.’
Now it was Huldar’s turn to prick up his ears along with the rest.
‘Just before this meeting I was informed that IT have gone through a computer believed to have belonged to Margeir. It turns out he’s been searching for information that seems to link him pretty conclusively to Helgi’s murder. According to IT, he doesn’t appear to have made any attempt to hide his search history, which suggests either that he wasn’t afraid of falling under suspicion or that he didn’t intend to live long enough to be arrested.’ Erla paused to allow comments from the floor, but even Lína kept quiet. No one wanted to hold up proceedings by butting in now. ‘Anyway, among the material Margeir looked up online was information about Rohypnol and its effects.’
When no one said a word, Erla continued: ‘So, at this stage it looks as if Margeir’s our man. But we’re still in the dark about his motive for killing Helgi. Maybe he lost money as a result of Helgi’s financial wheeling and dealing. Or Helgi made a move on his wife. Either scenario would be consistent with Margeir’s violent reaction. According to the descriptions we’ve been given of him, he may have been in a mentally unbalanced state. That should become clear in due course.’
Lína stuck up her hand, and Erla had no choice but to no
d curtly and allow her question. ‘What about Sigurlaug’s computer? What did it show?’
Erla looked as if she was going to brush this off, but seeing that the rest of the team were eager to hear the answer, she relented. ‘His wife’s search history didn’t reveal any connection to Helgi. Or to Rohypnol. Just recipes for lasagne, information about pregnancy and foetal development, knitting patterns for baby’s mittens, and other equally nail-biting stuff. Nothing useful for our inquiry. The only interesting fact is that she looked up the number of the Women’s Refuge the day after she’d been to A&E with the head injury.’
‘Do we know if she called them?’ It was Gudlaugur who asked, and Huldar suspected him of competing with Lína. He didn’t want her to get ahead, even if it was only in speaking up during a progress meeting.
‘No, she didn’t. I rang them and they assured me they’d never had a call from her, either then or later.’
Lína raised her hand again and, without waiting for a nod from Erla, commented: ‘I have to say, I find it a bit strange that a woman stuck at home like that wouldn’t have searched for a broader range of stuff than what you describe. Is it possible that something’s missing, like, maybe she’s deleted her search history?’
Once again, Erla was obliged to answer, since it had been a perceptive comment. It hadn’t occurred to Huldar, but Lína was right: it was unusual for people to restrict their browsing to recipes and knitting patterns. ‘Remember who the woman was living with,’ Erla said. ‘Presumably she was afraid her husband would check up on her. Even if she tried to hide her browsing history, there are ways and means of recovering it, as he could easily have found out by googling the subject. So IT reckon she restricted herself to safe topics – things that were guaranteed not to set him off.’
No doubt Erla was right. Thinking about it, Huldar guessed that Sigurlaug wouldn’t have dared to search for anything related to men, for fear her husband would accuse her of being attracted to them. And as men dominated news and culture – perhaps giving even cats a run for their money in the popularity stakes – there wouldn’t be much left if you wanted to exclude them. She may not even have dared to look at shopping sites in case he flipped his lid, interpreting it as a sign that she despised him for not being able to buy her things.
Huldar decided to raise his hand. Erla seemed taken aback as he didn’t usually have much to say at these meetings. ‘Are we assuming then that it was Margeir who took his son to Helgi’s flat? His height would fit.’
‘Yes. Until we learn otherwise.’
Erla showed signs of wanting to wrap things up but Huldar wasn’t finished. ‘Isn’t it a bit far-fetched to think Siggi wouldn’t have recognised his own father, even if Margeir had his hood up and a scarf over his face?’
Erla looked suddenly weary. ‘I don’t know. Maybe his father made him promise not to tell. Maybe the boy was taken in. It’s one of a number of details that need looking into. Then there’s the question of where the hell Margeir got hold of the Land Cruiser and where it is now. But we’ll be here all day if I start listing all the jobs that are outstanding.’ Erla pointedly switched off the projector – an unmistakeable message that the meeting was over. ‘Right, you lot, back to work. Those of you who have nothing to do, come by my office. We need to get cracking if we’re going to find this couple. Dead or alive.’
Huldar made yet another abortive attempt to speak to Erla following the meeting. There were three colleagues already in her office, waiting to be assigned new jobs, one of whom was Jóel, and there was no way he was telling Erla about Ugla in front of that bastard. So he went back to his desk and wondered what to do. Now the investigation had acquired a new focus, it would be absurd to delay sharing such vital information any longer. As a last resort, he decided to send her an email.
Since they’d hardly ever communicated that way, even when their relationship had hit its lowest point, he began with the excuse that she was always busy. No doubt she’d raise her eyebrows at that, but it was true, so she might just buy it. After this rather clumsy beginning, he got straight to the point: he thought he recognised one of the women in the videos. After sending the message, he had a bad taste in his mouth.
‘How are you getting on?’ He peered round his monitor at Gudlaugur.
‘I’m not.’ For once the young man seemed pleased to be interrupted. ‘I’m going over a list of retailers that sell nail guns in the hope of finding out whether Margeir recently bought one.’
‘Are you asking them about his wife as well?’ Huldar guessed the guy might have sent her instead so the purchase was less likely to be traced to him.
‘Yes. But no one recognises her either.’ Gudlaugur sighed. ‘I’ve gone through pretty much all the shops in the Greater Reykjavík area that sell tools. After that, I’ve got the rest of the country. Oh, and Customs, in case he ordered it from abroad. But I have the feeling I’m not going to get anywhere. I expect he already had it lying around in the basement.’
Huldar stood up and went to get a coffee. Then, remembering how much better it had been in Sexual Offences, he decided to stick his head round the door there. To give himself a pretext for his visit, he looked in on the man he had talked to before and asked if there was any news.
‘Good question.’ The man picked up his phone and put a call through to the colleague he’d asked to check if Helgi’s videos had cropped up on their radar. Huldar was encouraged when the man met his eye and nodded, looking pleased, as if he’d received good news. He scribbled a note, then said goodbye and hung up.
‘So, this may not solve the case – but you never know.’
‘What?’
‘The videos haven’t turned up. Not yet. But one of the guys who’s been monitoring the file-sharing sites I told you about says they look familiar. He’s fairly sure he’s seen something similar. Not necessarily involving the same women, but the same room, same bed.’ Huldar waited in suspense for the man to go on. ‘He hasn’t managed to track it down yet but he’s going to carry on searching the main sites featuring Icelandic content. It’s anybody’s guess when or if he’ll have any luck, though.’
‘Do you think there’s any chance it could be today?’ Huldar caught himself sounding like the kind of difficult customer who thinks he can speed up a delivery by asking impossible questions.
‘Your guess is as good as mine. He’s reluctant to report it until he’s got his hands on the evidence, but that could take a while.’
‘What happens if he does find it? Can he tell who posted it?’ Huldar couldn’t decide whether this constituted progress or not. How would the unearthing of yet another video further their inquiry?
‘Well, if nothing else, you’d get the name of the woman in the video. You may remember me telling you that almost all the content on these sites includes the woman’s identity.’
Huldar smiled thinly. The fact was, he already had a name.
The man handed him the note he’d jotted down. ‘These are the web addresses of the forums where my colleague thinks he might have come across the video. If you have nothing better to do, you can help by taking a look yourself.’
Huldar took the note, thanked the man and left his office. After helping himself to a cup of the superior coffee, he went outside where he leant against the wall and lit a cigarette. Thus fortified, he made yet another unsuccessful attempt to get hold of Ugla. When she didn’t pick up, he sent her a text message that was so long he had to break it up into two parts. In it, he explained why it was so vital that she help them find the address where the video had been made: a pregnant woman’s life was at stake. After that, he smoked his cigarette and waited.
Not until he had stubbed it out and was on his way upstairs again did his phone bleep. Unlike his, her text was brief and to the point. The flat was in the big tower block on Sudurhlíd in Fossvogur. She couldn’t remember the number.
It was better than nothing. Huldar bounded up the rest of the stairs, two at a time.
Chapter 28
Tommi put down the window-cleaner spray and looked around. A drip fell from the cloth he was holding. He bent down to wipe the floor but only succeeded in spreading the wet patch. Looking up, he sighed. ‘What do you reckon? Are we done?’
Thormar surveyed the flat critically. He’d lost sight of what they had and hadn’t cleaned. They’d gone over some of the surfaces several times, others only once, and may well have missed something but it was impossible at this stage to tell what they’d left out. They weren’t exactly the most experienced cleaning team in the country. It hadn’t helped matters that they had arrived to find the place trashed. Empty bottles, dirty glasses, an overflowing ashtray, a half-finished pizza, used towels. In contravention of all Helgi’s house rules, whoever had used the flat last hadn’t bothered to tidy up after themselves. Going by the cigars in the ashtray, the culprit must be Gunni. He and Helgi were the only ones who smoked. But Helgi had been a neat freak, and it was typical of Gunni to leave the place looking like a bomb site. If they had a go at him about the mess, he would no doubt be quick to respond that he had been meaning to clean it later. He was always ready with an excuse.
‘Did you clean the sink?’ It was all Thormar could think of. They would either have to go over the whole place again systematically or take a risk and just hope that they’d obliterated all signs of their presence. He really didn’t have time for this. The sooner he got home, the less likely he was to face an interrogation. Sigrún mustn’t suspect that he’d borrowed her rubber gloves and cloths or she would demand to know why. The full bottle of window cleaner that he’d pinched from the utility room was now completely empty. He would have to go to the shops on the way home and buy a replacement.
‘I think so.’ Clearly, Tommi was as muddled now as Thormar. Perhaps they were high on all the fumes from the cleaning products: the reek of chemicals was certainly powerful enough. ‘Yes, I cleaned it. The handle of the fridge too.’ Tommi pulled off his rubber gloves. ‘And inside the fridge and the oven. Though I don’t think I’ve ever touched it. Have you?’
Gallows Rock - Freyja and Huldar Series 04 (2020) Page 24