He closed personal.is without any curiosity about what else might be found there and checked his new email address, was not surprised to see no messages waiting for him, and he shut the computer down as he heard María’s key scrape in the lock.
‘Hæ,’ she greeted him, kicking off her shoes and sinking into the flat’s only armchair. ‘Had a good day?’
‘Not bad. You’ve been busy, though.’
María groaned and released the bun that held her grey-shot hair in place at the back of her neck, allowing it to escape over her shoulders.
‘That’s so much better,’ she sighed, lifting one foot and then the other into her lap to massage her toes. ‘So what have you been up to? No joy on the job front, I don’t suppose?’
‘Well. A little job has come up.’
‘Legal?’
‘Let’s say it’s not illegal, depending on how I go about it,’ Baddó said, casually pushing what had happened to Magnús Sigmarsson to the back of his mind.
‘And you’re doing it legally?’ María asked, wide awake now, her tone sharp. ‘I don’t want to be visiting you in prison again.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ve just been asked to follow someone and keep an eye on their movements. It’s OK, and it’s cash, so I can contribute to the bills.’
‘That would be very welcome.’ She yawned as her defences dropped. ‘I’m starving and I can’t be bothered to cook anything.’
‘That’s all right. I had some cash up front, so I can treat you for once. Thai or Chinese?’
‘It’s the second shower she’s had today,’ Laufey said quietly.
Something sizzled in the frying pan as Steini prepared dinner and a sudden aroma of spice filled the house as an extra ingredient was added to the pan.
‘Really?’ Gunna said, disappointed that the shower was already in use when that was just what she felt in need of. ‘How is she, do you think?’
Laufey changed the channel on the TV for the 19.19 news bulletin that Steini would want to see and turned the sound down.
‘I can’t tell. She seems happy enough, and then five minutes later she’s in tears again. What’s that all about?’
‘Ach, I expect you’ll find out one day, young lady. It’s not easy with your body doing weird things and your hormones running wild.’
‘It can’t be that hard, can it?’ Laufey said, brows knitted.
‘Like I said, you’ll find out one day and I expect you’ll come to me and tell me how tough it all is.’
‘Yeah. But not for a while,’ she said as the bathroom door opened and Drífa emerged, swathed in towels. ‘I mean, she’s like, only twenty.’
‘So? I was sixteen when Gísli was born.’
‘Well, I knew that. But you’re . . .’
Gunna laughed. ‘Well, I’m what?’
‘You’re tough. One of those people who just fights their way through, aren’t you?’
Gunna thought back to the hard years following Laufey’s father’s fatal accident, when she’d found herself a single parent for the second time.
‘Ladies!’ Steini called from the stove. ‘Is she out of the shower yet?’
‘Only just,’ Laufey called back.
‘Five minutes. Lay the table, someone, please.’
‘Do I have time for a shower?’ Gunna called.
‘Only if you get in it right now and you’re out in double quick time.’
‘In that case I’ll eat first,’ she called to Steini and dropped her voice to continue the conversation with Laufey. ‘Try not to be harsh on her. It’s not easy and she’s got herself into a real mess.’
‘You mean Gísli’s got her into a mess, don’t you?’
‘Careful, sweetheart. It takes two to tango,’ she said, levering herself off the sofa. ‘If you call Drífa, I’ll lay the table.’
4
Sunday
After a half-hour delay, during which she tried to pretend a cheese roll and rough coffee were a worthy substitute for breakfast, the first flight of the day to Iceland’s northern town of Akureyri swooped low over the long fjord leading to the town. Gunna wondered how it could be gloomy and wet in Reykjavík while the sky was clear and studded with stars north of the mountains.
A giant of a man in uniform met her at the airport’s arrival gate with a grin on his face.
‘Hæ. Remember me?’
‘Andrés? I wondered if it was you when we spoke on the phone yesterday,’ Gunna said, looking up into the open face of a man who would never be able to keep a secret. For once, she had to lengthen her stride to keep up with him as he loped out of the terminal to the squad car outside.
‘How have you been keeping, then? Been here in Akureyri since you graduated?’
‘Yup,’ he said as the car juddered over the rutted track between piles of cleared snow a metre deep on each side. ‘Graduated the year after you, wasn’t it? Came up here and been here ever since.’
‘It snows up here a bit, then?’
‘Just a bit. But you’re used to that, aren’t you?’
‘Was. It’s been a while since I last saw any proper snow. We don’t get much of it in Reykjavík.’
‘But the place still grinds to a halt when there’s an inch of snow on the ground.’ Andrés laughed.
‘This guy I’m meeting, do you know anything about him? Anything you can tell me in advance?’
Gunna admired what she could see of the scenery with an hour or two before there would be any real daylight. Akureyri wasn’t a place she was familiar with, other than for a few camping holidays with the scouts, which had involved much car sickness on long-distance buses before flying became affordable, although she had always thought of the town as a peaceful place.
‘There’s not much I can tell you,’ Andrés said, slowing down to drive through the town and down to the dock area where Haraldur Samúelsson had his office. ‘He doesn’t have a police record, not even a speeding ticket. From what I hear he’s a decent character, runs a business importing forklift trucks and hydraulic equipment. There’s a small workshop there as well and I suppose he employs half a dozen people. He does Lions Club, football club, all that kind of stuff. Never had to have any dealings with him at all. His wife’s a teacher and my missus knows her slightly. Nice enough lady, she says. That’s it. Nothing to tell, really.’
‘Very odd,’ Gunna said. ‘Most people have something or other, even if it’s only a parking fine.’
‘Not this guy. Apparently the tax office put him through the wringer a year or two ago, and he came up out of that smelling of roses. That’s unusual, not even a bit of black money.’
‘Shame. Gives me not a lot to go on.’
‘There is one thing, though,’ Andrés said, his face darkening.
‘His son’s a piece of trouble, not that he lives here any more, I’m pleased to say. Sammi’s a long-term addict, been in and out of rehab half a dozen times, but never lasts more than a few weeks before he’s back on something. He has convictions for theft, breaking and entering, all that sort of stuff. Nothing violent, just quick money stuff. I don’t know what you’re after, but maybe it could have some bearing on it?’
Gunna yawned. The 5 a.m. start after spending too long talking through things with Drífa was taking its toll already.
‘I’m not sure. I’m pretty sure that Haraldur Samúelsson hasn’t done anything himself, at least, nothing serious enough for me to pry into his comings and goings. But he was robbed not long ago by someone who seems to have stiffed him pretty badly and that’s who I’m trying to track down.’
‘He didn’t report it?’ Andrés asked in surprise, drawing up outside an industrial unit.
‘Quite the opposite. He’s anxious not to have it looked into, but as the person who robbed him may also be a witness to something more serious, he’d better tell me what he knows. By the way, do you think Haraldur Samúelsson would have known Jóhannes Karlsson? He’s from here, isn’t he?’
‘The dead trawler-owner? Green Jói?
He was from Húsavík. But I’d assume they’d have known each other.’
‘Why Green Jói?’
‘Years ago he had two trawlers that went to Poland for refits. While they were there, the shipyard workers stole so much of the green engine-room paint that the story goes you could tell which houses in Gdansk the shipyard guys lived in because the roofs were painted engine-room green. He still had enough left over to paint the roof of his office and store, as well as the engine rooms of both trawlers.’
‘So, Green Jói,’ Gunna chuckled as she opened the car door, eyeing the anonymous industrial unit with a modest ‘HS ehf’ in rust-red letters on its signboard.
‘Give me a call when you’re done here and I’ll pick you up,’ Andrés said as she shut the door.
Haraldur Samúelsson was already sweating when Gunna rapped on the door and went in without waiting for an answer. He reminded her of the frightened reception she’d got at Hermann Finnsson’s flat the day before; she hoped that Haraldur could be persuaded to be more forthcoming.
‘G’day,’ she offered, extending a hand that Haraldur took and shook firmly. She could see instantly that he was nervous as he sat at his desk and began fiddling with the cable that connected his iPhone to the socket. ‘I appreciate your finding time on a Sunday.’
‘Not a problem. The managing director seems to work seven days a week anyway. What can I do for you? I’m afraid I really don’t have anything to tell you.’
Gunna sat opposite Haraldur and wondered how far she could push this man before he either cracked and told her everything he had ever done or else closed up and refused to say a word.
‘Look, Haraldur. I know you stayed at the Harbourside Hotel and had an unfortunate experience there. I can understand that it’s embarrassing and that you don’t want anyone to know, but I’ll be entirely straight with you. This is a delicate and increasingly serious investigation in which your part is probably very small. I’m not even slightly interested in prosecuting you for whatever minor indiscretions you may have committed. Is that clear?’
Haraldur stared back at her in virtual disbelief. ‘You mean . . . ?’ He began, fumbling for the right words. ‘Not a word to anyone?’
‘More or less. Tell me the whole story.’
‘And you really are from the police?’
‘I am,’ Gunna confirmed, laying her warrant card on the desk, with the two screen-grab printouts from Hotel Gullfoss next to them. ‘Do either of these look familiar?’
She saw a tremor pass through Haraldur as his eyes opened wide at the sight of the pictures, and she knew immediately that she was on the right track. He slumped into his chair once the initial shock had passed.
‘That’s her.’
‘Sonja?’
‘That’s what she calls herself.’
‘I’ve a fairly good idea what happened. You were tied up and then she disappeared with your wallet?’ Gunna asked and Haraldur nodded.
‘How come you were tied up?’
‘Because I asked her to,’ he said in a small voice that sounded incongruous coming from a man in a suit; his face was bright red.
‘And was there a payment involved?’
‘No. No money. I paid for the room, that’s all.’
‘So she ties you up, which I suppose had been arranged, and once you’re unable to move, she takes your money and runs? Why didn’t you shout?’
‘Oh, God,’ Haraldur moaned. ‘There was a gag as well. It’s a domination thing. There’s a scene . . .’ he said and his voice tailed off for a moment while he took a breath. ‘A few of us like to experiment sometimes.’
‘Pardon my asking, but your wife . . . ?’
His expression stiffened. ‘A few years ago she liked to, er, experiment as well. After a while she stopped enjoying it, I suppose. I don’t know. It’s not something we talk about now.’ He sighed and caught his breath. ‘She’s a teacher. It wouldn’t do if . . . if someone were to recognize her, and Akureyri is a small town.’
‘Does she know that you still take part in this kind of activity?’
‘She suspects.’
‘You make a habit of this?’
‘It’s rare. Once in a while if I have to go to Reykjavík. Not here. Like I said, it’s a small town.’
‘There’s no “scene” here?’ Gunna asked.
Haraldur squirmed in his seat and Gunna reminded herself that humiliating the man, however easy that might be, was something to be avoided.
‘There are people in Akureyri who are part of the scene, some of them much more extreme than the stuff Svava and I used to dabble in,’ he finally admitted after an internal struggle. ‘But it’s difficult.’
‘So this stuff gets taken out of town?’
‘Exactly.’
‘And how much did Sonja sting you for?’
‘Just over a million.’
‘A million? Good grief. How did she manage that?’
Haraldur sighed at the painful memory. ‘Two debit cards and a credit card. She must have milked the cards as hard as she could until they wouldn’t dispense any more cash, and then she did some shopping as well, using the credit card. Jewellery, judging by what I could see when I checked my account online.’
‘I need to see that. But how did she get the PINs for your cards?’
‘Simple, I guess. She wanted the PINs and said that if the cards worked, then she’d call the hotel after an hour and tell them that someone in such-and-such a room was in trouble. If the PINs didn’t work, she wouldn’t bother and probably nobody would go into the room until the next morning,’ he explained in a hollow voice. ‘And then there were the photos.’
‘Photos?’
‘Yes. She took a couple of pictures.’
‘Of you tied up?’
‘Yes. So you can understand why I wasn’t keen to talk to you . . .’ he said, his voice fading away again.
Gunna’s phone buzzed and she looked at the screen, noticing to her surprise that she had spent almost half an hour in Haraldur’s company.
‘Excuse me, I have to take this,’ she apologized, stabbing the green button. ‘Helgi, a bit busy at the moment. Call you back?’ She could hear the wind whipping Helgi’s voice away as it roared and faded in her ear. ‘Where are you?’
‘Near the quarter-mile race track. Give me a buzz back when you’re free. It looks like we’ve got Magnús Sigmarsson.’
Gunna sensed the tension from Helgi’s end, and looked over at Haraldur, who had taken the opportunity to check his own phone.
‘But not in a good way, I take it?’
‘Nope. Stone dead. Broken neck’s my guess.’
‘Hell and damnation. All right. I’ll call you when I’m finished here. I’ll be back this afternoon at any rate.’
‘Righto, chief,’ Helgi said, and Gunna could hear that his attention was elsewhere with another voice calling his name as the connection closed.
‘Sorry about that,’ Gunna said, frowning, as Haraldur put his phone down on the desk. ‘Now, tell me how you made the connection with Sonja. I don’t imagine that’s her real name.’
‘I have no idea. That’s definitely her, though,’ Haraldur said, tapping the pictures Gunna had left on his desk. ‘Where were those taken? At the Harbourside?’
‘I can’t tell you where they were taken, but they were taken the same day.’
‘She’s an attractive woman,’ Haraldur said with a wistful look on his face.
‘So how did you arrange to meet? Why the Harbourside?’
‘There’s an internet site, personal.is. That’s where a lot of people on the scene make contact. She was on there. I sent her a message, got a reply and we arranged everything that way without having to speak. She decided when and where, told me to book a room at the Harbourside Hotel and instructions on where to be.’ He shrugged. ‘So that’s what I did, and look where it’s got me,’ he added with the first note of bitterness in his voice. ‘My wife doesn’t need to know about this, does she? I mean, after
the phone calls and everything . . .’
‘What do you mean, calls? Gunna asked sharply. ‘I called you once yesterday. Has anyone else been in touch you about this? Sonja, maybe?’
‘Er . . . no,’ Haraldur said, flustered. ‘No, it’s just that . . .’
‘Just what?’
‘The Harbourside guy who called, he said I shouldn’t speak to anyone else about this.’
‘Who was that? Símon?’
‘He said his name was Jón, that’s all, and that I shouldn’t speak to anyone else about all this. But considering you’re from the police, I thought I’d best not hide anything,’ he said, the confusion apparent on his broad face. ‘I hope I haven’t done the wrong thing.’
It was still a pleasant surprise not to wake up in a metal cot on a mattress that was too thin. Baddó stretched and yawned. María had already gone, leaving him with the flat to himself. He swung his legs out of bed, furrowed his eyebrows as he saw that there were two missed calls on his phone from a withheld number and wondered who it could be. Probably Hinrik, he reasoned, knowing that the man changed his business number every few weeks to another anonymous pay-as-you-go number.
Yawning, with the percolator spitting in the background and the radio on, he sat at María’s computer and waited for it to start up. It hadn’t taken him long to learn how to use it and he was already wondering about getting a faster model of his own. There was one message waiting in his inbox.
‘Sorry. I’m retired. Good luck elsewhere. Sonja x’
He quickly typed a reply, his jaw set as he tapped with two fingers.
Hæ again. Could you call me, please? I’ll make it worth your while, he wrote, adding his phone number, and hit the send button. As he cupped his chin in his hands and thought what to do next, the radio newsreader burst into his thoughts.
Chilled to the Bone Page 14