‘That’s quite a welcome!’ she said, taking a step back, while Sveinn, who had been watching, gave Guðgeir an exaggerated wink.
‘Good to see you’ve sorted things out,’ he said, giving them a thumbs-up. ‘Good on you, my friend,’ he added cheerfully, with the customary bark of laughter.
‘What was that all about?’ Særós asked in astonishment.
Guðgeir put an arm around her shoulders, and returned Sveinn’s gesture. He saw no reason to disabuse him of his misunderstanding. It was just fine that Sveinn had no idea who Særós really was, as for the next few hours it would be essential that people around the town would remain unaware of anything out of the ordinary. A word out of place or a remark on social media could wreck everything.
‘We’ll go direct to the Lagoon. The police will be right behind us,’ Særós said when they were in the car. ‘The operation by the harbour starts in fifteen minutes. I hope they find something there, but the key element is to keep Thormóður away from the phone so he can’t let anyone at Bröttuskriður know what’s happening. Did I tell you that Leifur persuaded the janitor to open the office for him?’
‘The office at the hostel in Reykjavík?’ Guðgeir asked.
‘No, the Children in Crisis office,’ Særós said. ‘There’s not a thing in there apart from an old desk. Nothing else. Not even a chair. If that web page of theirs is a front for something, then there’s good chance it’s drugs-related. The drug squad is already following up some leads.’
‘Interesting,’ Guðgeir mused. The whole case was becoming much more complex than they had imagined at the start. His concern was that things could turn out badly if the case turned out to be legally weak.
‘If this turns out to be about narcotics, what’s Sajee’s role in all this?’
‘All sorts of possibilities, drugs mule, human trafficking. Who knows?’ Særós said, and lapsed into silence until they reached the turnoff for Gröf. This was their point to wait for police backup, and Særós hurried up to the farm to give Karl and Marta clear instructions that they were not to warn their neighbours about this traffic, making it plain that hindering a police operation was an indictable offence.
‘Weird guy in there,’ Særós said as she took her seat in the car again. ‘He promised not to say a word, and then started going on about hidden people and the enchantment that hangs over Bröttuskriður. A very strange man.’
‘And the woman? Marta?’ Guðgeir asked. ‘What was her reaction?’
‘She just said that it had been bound to happen sooner or later.’
‘Did she, now? That’s remarkable,’ Guðgeir said, but Særós was no longer listening to him, engrossed in her phone to start the co-ordinated operation.
42
She was startled, lying there in the darkness. She felt the ground shake and heard the rumble of engines. It seemed that there were many cars and as she closed her eyes, she could visualise herself in front of Bröttuskriður. With shaking hands, she poured a little water into her mouth and managed to swallow a few drops. Then she crawled to the hatch and started to call for help, her voice weak.
43
Særós had thoughtfully left a radio in the car for him. The sound distorted, and he struggled to make out the voices he could hear, interspersed with crashes and bangs. Then he saw the front door open and Selma was escorted out. A blue scarf covered most of her grey hair and she appeared to be furious, holding on tight to the female police officer at her side and yelling curses into the air. She was helped into a car, which then drove away in a cloud of dust. Guðgeir watched its progress until it vanished as the road curled around the foot of the mountain.
Nothing seemed to be happening at the house, although he could make out odd words that he tried to make sense of. He couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on, and his excitement grew as he made out movement behind the kitchen windows. There was a heavy thud that came over the airwaves, and he heard Særós mention the basement.
He picked up his phone and called, but gave up when she hadn’t replied after it had rung a few times. She would take the right decisions, and he couldn’t allow himself to prejudice the whole operation by interfering. The banging stopped, and two officers appeared, went to their vehicle and fetched a toolbox. Then they worked to free the narrow basement window at the front of the house, trying to find another route in. After they had levered the window with a jemmy, Særós appeared and the pair followed her back inside. Silence fell again.
Guðgeir sighed out loud. His own impatience was stretching his nerves. It was almost unbearable being so close to the action but having to stay away, not even able to leave the car while everything was happening inside. He sat hunched forward with his nose against the windscreen, the radio at his ear. He felt an ache in his chest and so much condensation formed on the glass that he opened a window. There wasn’t a sound outside other than the cries of the fulmars in the rocks above Bröttuskriður. He opened the window all the way and leaned out, craning his neck to see the distant jagged peaks. Life continuing as usual on the cliffs was in perfect contrast to the situation at the farm itself. The walls hadn’t seen a coat of paint for years and no animals were to be seen other than wild birds.
Now a female police officer appeared, ran to the car, and then back to the house. Something was happening, at last. He heard a low whine and looked over towards the barn, catching sight of a bushy tail vanishing around the corner. The unfortunate fox was still held by the iron links of the chain. Two police officers hauled a downcast and noticeably dishevelled Ísak through the door, struggling every step of the way. They marched him between them, handcuffed him and had just put him in the patrol car when Særós hurried from the house.
‘Everyone out, right now!’
There was so much noise that it was difficult to make out what was being said.
‘Watch out … don’t touch any switches … the place could go up. Out!’
Guðgeir was out of the car and running towards the farmhouse, slowing his pace and stopping when he saw that everyone was clear. He waited as he watched from a distance to see how things turned out at this desolate spot beneath the sharp grey crags. His nerves were stretched so tight that he felt himself shiver with the tension. He forced himself to walk slowly back to the car and sit inside again. It was as well to stay clear, as it would take them a while to cordon off the area. The extent of the cordon would tell him exactly how dangerous whatever they had found inside to be. Særós issued instructions, with her phone to her ear. He stayed away until he was sure that everything was being done before he went over to her.
‘What happened?’ he asked, trying to appear more at ease than he felt.
‘There’s a whole chemical factory down there in the basement. Ísak managed to set fire to some junk in his room before we got hold of him. We managed to put the fire out, but it was touch and go,’ Særós panted. ‘The wretched man could have killed all of us. You can imagine what could have happened with all that stuff in there. I’ve called them all out, the Coast Guard and the fire service. Nobody’s going near the place until the technical team has been in there.’
‘What was in there?’ Guðgeir asked.
‘All sorts. Chemical drums. Hydrochloric acid and caustic soda, I guess…’ she said, about to continue until he stopped her.
‘And Sajee?’
‘No sign of her in there. We’ll go through the place thoroughly, but not before that chemical factory’s been dealt with.’
‘You remember I mentioned the smell of acetone when I was there before?’
‘Yes,’ she said, hesitating for a moment. ‘Of course. Right by the door to the cellar.’
‘And with all my experience, I didn’t put two and two together, and there’s all that stuff down there,’ Guðgeir said in frustration at his own shortcomings. ‘Did you go down there yourself?’
‘Just for a moment, and that was enough,’ she said quickly. ‘There’s a brand-new tablet press, temperature gauges, a
timer, gas… Everything. And the smell.’ Særós’s voice dropped and she looked seriously into Guðgeir’s eyes. ‘I’d have never taken a team in there if I had the slightest suspicion it was such a big factory. It’s the first time I’ve had this kind of responsibility…’
‘And you did everything exactly right,’ Guðgeir said. ‘How could you have suspected there could be a whole drugs laboratory in a farmhouse? It’s completely insane. We suspected there was something fishy going on, but nothing on this scale.’
Her phone rang and Særós took a few steps as she answered. He fidgeted nervously. He felt increasingly sick. Ísak had done his best to set fire to the place, endangering the lives of everyone present. After thirty years as a police officer, it still took him by surprise how desperation could lead people to horrifying extremes.
‘That was Víðir Jón,’ Særós said, finally putting the phone down. ‘They’ve found backpacks at both the hostels, in Höfn and in Reykjavík. All the same brand and he said it’s pretty certain there are traces of narcotics in them. That’s what the initial scans show. It looks like production was here at the farm and we suspect the network is nationwide, with the hostels as distribution points.’
‘So that’s how it all fits together,’ Guðgeir muttered, and the image of Thormóður carrying a couple of backpacks and other things out to his 4x4 came to mind. ‘And all that messing around with household goods…’
‘The drug squad’s overjoyed. You know there has been a flood of amphetamines, MDMA and all kinds of crap, especially over the last year,’ Særós said happily, the shock wearing off and being replaced by triumph.
‘So we know about Thormóður, Ísak and Selma,’ Guðgeir counted up. ‘Check the young woman who works at the Hostel by the Sea as well.’
‘We’ll do that,’ Særós said, working her shoulders to release the tension that ran all the way up to her throat. ‘But we can hardly count Selma as being part of this. Her mind’s so shot away that she can hardly have been aware of what was going on in the basement, but it goes without saying that she’ll be questioned about everything. She seems to have had an obsession with new toys. You ought to see the stuff in there, unbelievable! But I suppose her shopping sprees must have been a front for bringing in all the stuff needed for the factory. She must have been out of her mind,’ Særós said, her hands spread wide.
‘I saw it for myself,’ Guðgeir said and then Særós’s phone rang again.
He took the opportunity to watch what was going on around them. The area had been securely cordoned off and traffic blocked in both directions. The helicopter bringing the specialist team could hardly be far away. Only a year before he had gone on leave, these had been skills they would have had to bring in from Europol, but now they were coming from Reykjavík. Things had changed, and he hadn’t had a chance to ask Særós for any details.
‘That was the drug squad. They suspect that every possible smuggling route must have been used, in and out of the country,’ she said. ‘They’re checking Children in Crisis to see how it fits in with all this. It’s beyond belief how low people can go. Children in Crisis! Absolutely revolting to use something like that as a front. The thinking is that the payment buttons on the site send coded messages about shipments, prices and suchlike. But we’ll figure that out and they’re working on it now. Leifur said there’s been very little traffic on the site, apparently just a narrow group of regular users.’
‘And Sajee? How does she fit in with all this?’ Guðgeir asked as he took in the deluge of information, and his thoughts returned to the woman from Sri Lanka.
‘You know that the most popular pills these days have a child’s head motif?’ Særós asked instead of answering his question.
‘What?’
‘It’s more or less a child’s face. Víðir Jón reminded me just then, and now I can’t wait to get inside and take a look at that tablet press.’
‘It’s disgusting,’ Guðgeir said, scowling.
‘Exactly.’
‘Særós, you’ve done a fantastic job,’ he said, reaching to pat her shoulder. ‘Well done!’
‘It’s all thanks to you,’ she replied, stamping warmth into her feet. ‘It’s hellishly cold. Shouldn’t it be spring by now?’
‘Looks like your first big case has a happy ending.’ Guðgeir smiled. ‘It’s just as well you listened to all my bullshit.’
‘Don’t talk yourself down. You know I’m way too cool to take any notice,’ she said with a laugh, clearly delighted with the day’s success.
‘You deserve every bit of it,’ Guðgeir said with conviction. ‘How far away is the helicopter?’
‘It’ll be a while yet,’ she replied. ‘Don’t you want to head home? Not much is going to happen here for a while.’
She bit her lip, as if regretting what she had said, but Guðgeir pretended not to have heard.
‘Sure. But once this is over the whole property will have to be searched,’ he said, nodding towards the barn. ‘Have you been in there?’
‘A quick look. It looks like it was used to fix up cars. Ísak had other hobbies as well as producing drugs. We’ll take a closer look afterwards. There were extra small washing up gloves under the sink and Ísak’s explanation was that there was a Thai or Filipina woman who did some cleaning and that she only came once, so that could have been Sajee. They said she had also cleaned at Gröf, and the couple there should be able to confirm that.’
‘Then why did they pretend to know nothing about her the time I came here?’ Guðgeir, and the feeling of helplessness was making him anxious.
‘That was what I was looking to ask, but hadn’t go that far when it all kicked off in there. Personally, I find it very strange that Thormóður pretended not to remember the woman…’ she said, and her voice faded away as her gaze went from the house to the sky and back. ‘Isn’t that the way it was?’
It was clear that her mind was elsewhere, and Guðgeir had become a distraction as she watched for the helicopter.
‘That’s it. And if he’s put under any pressure, then he blames bad memory due to his former lifestyle. You’ll have to bear that in mind in the interrogation and not let him play games with you,’ Guðgeir said.
‘Of course not.’
‘Did you ask if the woman had a cleft palate?’ he asked, and Særós sighed and shook her head.
‘No. It wasn’t easy to get through to her,’ she said. ‘Ísak looks like he’s having a breakdown and Selma is clearly very sick, and in this instance we might have to accept that they’re telling the truth.’
‘I don’t believe them,’ Guðgeir muttered, running a hand over his head and rubbing his jaw. He had slept badly and hadn’t bothered to shave.
‘Look, none of us have seen Sajee, and she hasn’t been reported missing,’ Særós said, as her phone rang again. ‘Hello?’ she said quickly, and listened attentively.
Guðgeir could make out a few odd words, and couldn’t fail to notice that her mood brightened as the conversation progressed.
‘Fantastic! That’s unbelievable,’ she said again and again. ‘Keep me informed. OK, thanks.’
She dropped the phone back into her pocket, and raised a hand in the air. It took him a moment to realise that this was a high-five invitation, something that was very unlike the serious and organised Særós, who was all about discipline and competitiveness, whether she was swimming, running or climbing mountains in all weathers. Now she was triumphant. Særós had reached her mountain peak.
‘Wonderful,’ he said. ‘Congratulations!’
‘It all worked out. They found drugs in a backpack at the hostel in Höfn and there were two bags of cash at the hostel in Reykjavík. They must have been struggling to get rid of all that money! The dogs are sniffing everywhere, so with any luck they should turn up even more.’
It all added up. He had seen Thormóður stacking stuff up in the local shop in Höfn and noticed that he had paid with five and ten thousand krónur notes, which was unusual now t
hat almost everything was done electronically. Guðgeir recalled that at the time he had suspected a tax swindle, but the reality had been very different. The goods went to Bröttuskriður where production took place, hidden away behind an old-fashioned farmhouse. It looked like the backpacks went from there to the hostels to be distributed around the country, more than likely with couriers pretending to be tourists. The organisation had been hidden behind Children in Crisis.
Særós’s phone rang again and this time she switched to speaker. This time Leifur was reporting that the charity’s offices had been examined and the desk, the only piece of furniture in the place, had yielded a stack of CD cases. This seemed odd, as CDs had become practically obsolete, and the cases were empty – but this turned out to be yet another distribution method.
‘This is all very complex…’ he said, and Særós interrupted him.
‘Leifur, to make your day, I can tell you that there’s a load of Children in Crisis CD cases at Bröttuskriður,’ she said and laughed. ‘Straight to the back of the net, and so fast,’ she said, as she ended the call.
‘So were the hostels used to launder the cash?’ Guðgeir asked.
‘Maybe they were, or maybe not. Someone has to make a mistake somewhere along the line.’
‘And Sajee? What about her?’ Guðgeir asked again.
Særós frowned, showing that she was unsure whether to continue or step back.
‘That’s what I’ve been wondering about,’ she said after an awkward pause. ‘She could have left the country, or…’ she drew a deep breath. ‘Maybe we’ve constructed Sajee from more than one person. We don’t have a picture of her. She’s nowhere to be seen online. We can’t pronounce her name properly, let alone know if we’ve even been able to write it down accurately.’
‘What exactly do you mean?’ Guðgeir asked, looking away to hide his disappointment. The insistent howl of the fox as it tugged at its chain by the barn wall and the cries of the fulmars could be heard in the distance. His discomfort was growing by the minute.
The Fox Page 20