Chilled to the Bone

by Quentin Bates

  Approaching from behind, Már Einarsson whispered in Ægir’s ear.

  ‘That woman there,’ he pointed at Bára. ‘That woman has been working on the ministry’s behalf to recover that laptop, after you and your people couldn’t do it.’

  ‘Interesting you should say that, as I was about to formally arrest this person for being in possession of stolen goods, plus a few other things for good measure, and I’ll be expecting her to explain all the circumstances surrounding this case in quite some detail,’ Gunna said, pleased to see that Bára looked suitably crestfallen.

  Ægir Lárusson’s face went even redder and Már muttered in his ear a second time.

  ‘Gentlemen, this is a crime scene,’ she reminded them. ‘I have a serious assault to deal with here and every second counts. If you have a problem, I’d appreciate it if you take it up with Ívar Laxdal. All right?’ she said, taking Bára by the arm. ‘And you’re coming with me. Behave yourself or you’ll be in handcuffs.’

  The helicopter fluttered overhead, silhouetted for a moment against the pure white of the mountains behind, before it thrashed away southwards through the cold, still air.

  ‘Not a fucking hope,’ the paramedic said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I reckon that guy’s going to be a vegetable for the rest of his natural,’ he explained with a sour shake of his head. ‘I’ve seen plenty of road traffic accidents, fights, you name it. A head injury like that? I’d put money on it that he won’t last the night.’

  Ívar Laxdal, resplendent in a short military-style coat and with his beret smartly perched on his head, narrowed his eyes at Gunna.

  ‘If you’d been here ten minutes earlier . . . ?’ he ventured.

  ‘If I’d had a crystal ball,’ she said. ‘If I hadn’t gone to the ministry with you this morning, then Helgi and I would have been here an hour earlier. Of course, if we’d have turned up in the middle of it all, who knows what the result might have been? In my opinion, it doesn’t pay to speculate after the event. You might be interested to know that Baddó had a gun in his pocket, which he’d probably borrowed or stolen from Hinrik the Herb, which is great for Hinrik as that means we can’t pin possession of a handgun on him.’

  ‘What’s this country coming to, Gunnhildur?’

  ‘You tell me. This isn’t about the people we’re used to dealing with breaking the law. There’s something much meaner and nastier behind it all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a crime scene that needs attending to, and there are two gentlemen over there who might want to speak to you.’

  Ívar Laxdal had the unaccustomed feeling that he was being told what to do; he opened his mouth to speak and then thought better of it before making his way to where Ægir Lárusson and Már Einarsson had parked their black 4 × 4 further up the street.

  Inside the house Gunna sat on Sif’s bed and looked at the accumulated teenage junk that reminded her of Laufey’s bedroom. Sif sat stiffly next to her, looking overwhelmed as Gunna inspected the pictures of thrash metal bands pinned haphazardly on the walls.

  ‘You know, I have a daughter who’s just about your age, Sif,’ she said quietly.

  ‘I expect she’s a good girl, isn’t she?’ the girl said with a hint of a sneer in her tone.

  ‘Far from it,’ Gunna said. ‘She’s a pain in the backside and she drives me nuts a lot of the time.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘I want a quiet word with you before we all have to go to the station in Hverfisgata. It’s going to be a long day, I’m afraid, and there are endless questions that you’re going to have to answer. So between ourselves, before there are any formal interviews and anything is recorded, I just wanted to advise you to be upfront and tell it like it is. Understand?’

  ‘Because you’ll force it out anyway?’

  ‘No, because unless you’re smarter than even the most experienced criminals we’ve had to deal with, you’ll trip over yourself and get found out sooner or later. It’s nothing more sinister than that. Now, while it’s just us, tell me about this laptop that all the fuss has been about.’

  Sif sighed and looked at Gunna with a new respect.

  ‘What’s going to happen?’

  ‘Hospital to start with, then there’ll be a lot of questions. Make it as straightforward as you can and it’ll be fairly painless for all concerned.’

  ‘Am I going to be arrested?’

  Sif’s eyes were wide and there was fear behind her round glasses. ‘Maybe as a formality. You’re certainly part of a large and rather complex investigation. Now, what’s so special about this laptop?’

  ‘It was in Dad’s workshop. Hekla said she’d been given it by someone, but I didn’t believe her. So I started it up; you need a password to get it to work.’

  ‘And?’ Gunna asked as Sif paused.

  ‘It was easy, really. The guy’s business card was in the case as well. The password was his name.’

  ‘Jóel Ingi?’

  ‘Bragason. That was like, really obvious. I was bored over Christmas and I tried to read some of the guy’s reports, but they were really dull. So I went through his emails instead and found all that stuff in the outbox, all those emails between him and the people he works with about those four asylum seekers.’

  ‘You knew about that?’

  ‘Duh,’ Sif said. ‘We’re not all brain-dead dweebs who are only interested in music and partying.’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you were. What are you doing at college, by the way?’

  ‘Journalism and political science.’

  ‘Ah. That explains a few things. So who did you pass this information on to?’

  ‘One of the guys on my course, and my tutor,’ Sif said in a small voice. ‘Will they get in trouble now?’

  Gunna thought quickly. ‘No, I shouldn’t think so. Is all this information still on the computer? How did you pass it on? Electronically or on paper?’

  ‘There’s nothing on that laptop. I reformatted it.’

  ‘What? You erased everything?’

  Sif nodded and swept her hair out of her eyes. ‘The emails are copied to a dropbox on the internet as well, and I backed up the whole hard drive onto a portable HD.’

  She knelt on the floor and pushed a hand under the mattress, producing a small black box with two USB cables coming out of it. Gunna took it from her hand and put it in the pocket of her coat.

  ‘That can stay safe with me, Sif,’ she said and looked towards the door. ‘Listen,’ she added quietly, looking into Sif’s face and watching her eyes go wide. ‘What I said before about telling it like it is, do that. But as far as anyone’s concerned, you didn’t have a password, and you never got into that laptop. Is that clear? You just put it back where it was and forgot about it.’

  Sif nodded. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I can do that.’

  Ívar Laxdal and Gunna watched as the first ambulance drove away sedately with Hekla and Sif on board, closely followed by Pétur in the old Land Rover and the black ministry 4 × 4 bringing up the rear, all of them heading for the National Hospital.

  ‘Are they hurt badly?’ Ívar Laxdal asked.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Hekla had been slapped a few times, but no bones broken. The girl is the one I’d be concerned about. Seventeen is an impressionable age and this could haunt her for evermore.’

  ‘We still don’t know which one of them stuck that thing into Bigfoot’s head, do we?’

  Gunna shrugged. ‘Does it matter? It’ll be a self-defence plea whatever happens. As for Baddó, who knows? The ambulance guy reckoned he wouldn’t make it to tomorrow.’

  ‘This needs to be kept discreet, Gunnhildur, as I’m sure you’re aware.’

  ‘Is that what our friends in that black car told you?’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll do your work with your usual thoroughness and we’ll see what rises to the surface, won’t we?’ Ívar Laxdal let fall one of his rare smiles and extinguished it just as quickly. ‘I have a feeling that one or both of th
em will be out of a job soon. Tomorrow, maybe.’

  Gunna did a double take and stared at Ívar Laxdal. ‘As quickly as that?’

  ‘A fuck-up at that level, especially a potentially embarrassing one like this, isn’t something that’s easily forgiven, you know. Using a freelance private investigator to keep tabs on the ministry’s own staff, even if they have screwed up, doesn’t look good. The minister will find it easier to lay blame on people who aren’t there any more if, or when, this becomes public knowledge.’

  ‘Jóel Ingi and one or both of those other clowns will be convenient scapegoats a month before the next election?’

  This time Ívar Laxdal dropped a muffled laugh, an even rarer event. ‘You’re turning into an old cynic, Gunnhildur,’ he said, almost jovially, and Gunna realized she was seeing a new side to the man, one in which he admitted taking delight in the tribulations facing the men from the ministry.

  ‘You know that Már Einarsson knew that Jóel Ingi was leaving the country last night, but didn’t tell anyone. He deliberately chose not to have him stopped? Bára was tracking the poor bastard and reporting his every movement to Már.’

  ‘And to Ægir, or further?’

  ‘Who knows?’

  ‘Anyway, Gunnhildur, would you like a ride back to town?’ he asked, swinging his keys on one finger.

  ‘Why not? Helgi can stay here with the forensics team to finish up. I’ll just let him know, so he doesn’t think I’m a missing person as well,’ she said, heading towards the house while Ívar Laxdal climbed into his car and the engine whispered into life.

  ‘Long day, Mum?’ Laufey said as Gunna groaned, dropped her shoes by the door and her coat over the back of a chair.

  ‘Long isn’t the word for it, and don’t even ask what I’ve been up to,’ she said, wondering whether or not she dared to collapse onto the sofa, where Steini watched her over the top of his glasses and patted the seat next to him. ‘I mustn’t,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t stand up again. Where’s . . . our guest?’

  Laufey jerked her head towards the hall. ‘In the shower, I guess. I reckon she was a bit put out.’

  ‘All right, who’s upset her now?’

  ‘Me, I’m afraid,’ Steini admitted. ‘She was hungry and I told her we wouldn’t be having dinner until you got here, so she went out – I suppose she’s been to the shop for a burger.’

  ‘She’s in the shower, though? Again? Damn. Bang on the door, would you, sweetheart, and ask her if she’s going to be long?’

  Laufey pulled a long face, but got up all the same, while Gunna gave in to temptation and sank onto the sofa next to Steini, leaning against him, grateful for the arm he curled around her shoulders.

  ‘Tough day?’

  ‘You could say that. Exhausting, stressful, but there’s a light at the end of a long tunnel.’

  ‘And another long day tomorrow, I suppose?’

  ‘I’d be surprised if it wasn’t. But the overtime won’t do any harm if I’m going to replace that old car anytime soon,’ Gunna said with a yawn that left her gaping. ‘How about you?’

  ‘I got in an hour ago to find Laufey and Drífa talking about men. They stopped as soon as I came in, thankfully. Those two are getting on like a house on fire.’

  ‘That’s good.’ Gunna rubbed her eyes. ‘Are you cooking or am I?’

  ‘I think it’ll be me, don’t you? And if Drífa has already filled up on junk food, that means more spaghetti for us.’

  Laufey reappeared and dropped back onto her seat as a vaguely familiar voice was heard. Gunna twisted to see the television and saw Ægir Lárusson’s bald head and heavy features on the screen.

  ‘Laufey, turn it up would you?’

  ‘ . . . Not in a position to comment at the present moment,’ she heard him say, the wind blowing wisps of hair from the sides of his head as he stood in front of the ministry building. Gunna sat up and watched intently. Már Einarsson could be seen indistinctly as the camera panned back and a microphone was thrust under Ægir Lárusson’s chin.

  ‘Is this something you will be investigating as a matter of urgency?’ an unseen interviewer asked.

  ‘Absolutely. Definitely,’ Ægir Lárusson said with emphasis, smacking two fingers of one hand into the palm of the other. ‘If there is any truth behind these allegations, which I hasten to add have yet to be substantiated, then the ministry will do its utmost to examine the circumstances behind this deeply regrettable situation.’

  ‘That man lies like a cheap watch,’ Gunna said, lying back against Steini.

  Steini frowned. ‘You know this guy?’

  ‘And is the minister aware of what the implications could be for the government if these allegations are based on verifiable facts?’ the interviewer asked.

  Ægir Lárusson smiled, and Gunna saw Már Einarsson in the background, flanked by the plump young woman Gunna had seen him with that morning. Ægir Lárusson’s smile looked sinister in the harsh lights behind the camera.

  ‘I am confident that this matter can be resolved and that there are no skeletons in the ministry’s cupboards,’ he said, stiffening and adjusting the collar of the same thick coat Gunna had seen him wearing only a few hours earlier, making it plain that the interview should be over.

  ‘So can we expect a statement from the minister shortly?’

  ‘That’s up to the minister himself, and as you know he’s taking part in a Nordic regional conference in Riga. I’ll raise it with him at the first available opportunity.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘That is all I have to say for now,’ Ægir Lárusson said with a brief return of that wintry smile before he stepped smartly out of shot and the TV picture returned to a serious presenter behind a desk.

  ‘Shrimp quotas for next year . . .’ he began as Laufey turned the sound down.

  ‘Loathsome, revolting man,’ Gunna grumbled, getting to her feet as the bathroom door opened and banged shut. ‘How long until dinner? What I really want to know is, are you doing garlic bread?’

  ‘You’re sure? Aren’t you on shift tomorrow?’

  ‘Oh, yes. A bit of garlic breath should make me even more feared an interrogator.’

  ‘They’ll tell all just to escape your dragon breath.’

  ‘The lying bastards will be lining up to confess and I’ll be a chief inspector before you know it. So pile it on, my good man.’