A Full Cold Moon

by Lissa Marie Redmond

  ‘Have you taken that trip with Ragnar before?’ Berg asked.

  She smoothed back her satiny blond hair with her left hand. ‘Of course. I’ve been to Toronto and New York City with him.’ Her mouth turned upward in a half-smile at the thought of her trips with her husband. ‘I prefer New York.’

  ‘Did you know Gunnar personally?’ Lauren asked.

  Freyja nodded. ‘I’m the one who hired him. I don’t have much to do with the day-to-day operations of the company anymore, but I like to help my husband when I can. Ragnar’s last assistant got another job and left suddenly, so I interviewed candidates for him. Ragnar insists on having a hand in everything, so he needs an assistant. Otherwise he’d never remember anything, which is why I thought he was at the door looking for his keys again. I called an agency to send over some candidates, but Ragnar says it’s too soon.’

  ‘Did he and Gunnar get along?’ Matt asked.

  ‘He got on better with Gunnar than his last assistant. That man was totally unreliable. I thought it was a stroke of luck when he decided to leave. And then an even bigger stroke when we were lucky enough to find Gunnar.’

  ‘Have all of Ragnar’s assistants been men?’ Lauren asked.

  Freyja’s lovely face never faltered. ‘I’ve been with my husband since we were in our early twenties. We have three beautiful children. We have a lot invested in our marriage. Let’s just say that the female assistants were more trouble than they were worth. That’s why I took over the hiring process. I know my husband loves me, but the temptation to stray can be strong.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe,’ Berg offered before Lauren could press her on the details.

  ‘Powerful men have powerful needs.’ Her tone was still light and controlled. ‘Sometimes preventative measures have to be taken for the good of everyone involved.’

  An awkward silence followed that raw statement. Freyja sat with her hands folded delicately in her lap and her face never lost its serene composure as she waited for one of them to ask their next question. Finally, Berg cleared his throat. ‘Do you know where your husband is now?’

  ‘I assume he might be at his office already. I can call his secretary, Helga, and see if he’s in yet.’ She held up a shiny cellphone she’d extracted from a pocket hidden somewhere in the folds of her skirt.

  ‘New phone?’ Lauren asked.

  Her smile was positively angelic as she answered. ‘Ragnar thought it’d be best to get new phones once he got back. He’s going through a cleansing moment. Throw away the toxicity associated with violence.’ She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap. ‘He wants to push what happened to Gunnar out of his mind. Forget everything about that trip and start everything fresh.’

  ‘Do you think we could have your old phones to take a look at?’ Berg asked.

  ‘If we had them, of course, but you should know better than anyone the only way to make sure your personal information is safe is to destroy old phones.’

  Berg stood, signaling for Lauren and Matt to do the same. ‘Thank you. We’ll take a ride over there. You don’t have to trouble Ragnar’s secretary. And we’re sorry to have had to trouble you.’

  ‘It was no trouble at all.’ She led the way back to the entrance with her elegant, graceful gait. She turned back to the trio as she opened the door for them to leave. ‘I hope you find out who did this to Gunnar. He was a very sweet man. It’s just so unbelievable. I think Ragnar and I are still both in shock. If there’s anything we can do to help, please ask.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Lauren said, still not sure how to address a married Icelandic woman. Mrs Steinarsson? Mrs Runarsdóttir? She had no idea how that worked. Matt thanked her generically as well.

  ‘Don’t you think we should have gotten more information on the former female assistants she was talking about,’ Lauren asked Berg as soon as the elevator doors closed.

  ‘It’s obvious what she meant,’ Berg said. ‘And I’m willing to bet Ragnar is nowhere to be found when we get to his office.’

  ‘You think she’s going to tip him off that we’re coming?’ Matt asked.

  Berg’s usually expressive mouth was a straight line. ‘I think she’ll keep protecting what’s hers.’

  TWENTY-NINE

  Ragnar’s office was located more toward the University of Reykjavik area in a nondescript two-story building. ‘Ragnar and Freyja’s company has multiple real estate holdings all over the country, but this is their headquarters.’ At Lauren’s request, Berg parked the car across from the building and the three of them sat watching the front door.

  ‘I thought it’d be bigger.’ Lauren squinted her eyes, trying to make out the writing on the glass.

  Berg snorted back a laugh. ‘This has been their headquarters for thirty years, at least. Remember, Freyja’s grandfather started the business in the 1970s.’ Berg was slouched in the driver’s seat so Matt could see over him. ‘They own a business complex on the opposite end of the waterfront from where you’re staying, where the day-to-day operations of the company happen. It’s very a modern collection of buildings, all windows and mountain views, but this is where Ragnar keeps his personal office.’

  ‘How did you find that out?’ Matt asked.

  ‘You should know by now,’ Berg’s smile reached his eyes, ‘I know people who know people. This was easy. It’s not like Ragnar is trying to keep his private office location a secret. He probably just prefers to do his work without the prying eyes of his underlings on him, day in and day out.’

  A brand-new black BMW X5 with tinted windows was parked on the street directly in front of the building. ‘Do you think that’s Ragnar’s car?’ Lauren asked.

  ‘I’d say so,’ Berg replied. ‘Let’s go inside and find out.’

  Inside, the lobby had been remodeled into a sleek, modern workspace. A white puzzle-piece-shaped light fixture hung from the ceiling by thick wires casting a subtle illumination down onto the receptionist. Seated behind a long marble-topped counter, she stopped typing on her computer when they walked in. The woman’s face was half hidden by her computer monitor until she slid to the side in her black-and-chrome ergonomic office chair. Lauren knew from the tight, pleasant look on her face Freyja had called the moment they’d left her apartment. Any remaining doubt she had was erased when the receptionist asked in English, ‘May I help you?’

  ‘We’re looking for Ragnar Steinarsson.’ Lauren figured she’d skip the pleasantries and get right to it. ‘Can we speak to him?’

  The sixtyish woman poked her silver-rimmed glasses up her nose with her index finger. She had a large, slightly crooked hooked nose. Lauren suspected she was another of Freyja’s hires. ‘He’s not in the office now. If you’ll leave your names and contact numbers, I can pass those on to him when he gets back. However, he rarely sees people without an appointment. Can you tell me what this is about?’

  Berg had also picked up on the English greeting and lit into her in Icelandic. The woman’s boney face flushed red as they went back and forth. Berg put both hands on the counter and leaned in, speaking in a low harsh tone. She seemed to shrink away from him with every unsatisfactory answer she gave. At one point he slapped his hand down causing her to jump. She quickly added something in Icelandic, pointing at Matt and Lauren, then outside.

  After that the tone changed between them; it became almost conspiratorial. She kept glancing behind her, then back to Berg, as if she was sharing corporate secrets with him instead of the whereabouts of her boss.

  After the extended exchange seemed to be over, Berg pulled a business card from his back pants pocket and dropped it on the woman’s desk. ‘Have him call me as soon as he gets back. Do you understand?’

  She nodded, picking up the card. She scanned it quickly, then tucked it away in the breast pocket of her mustard-colored blouse.

  Berg turned to Matt and Lauren. ‘Let’s go. He’s gone.’

  ‘Sorry to trouble you, ma’am,’ Matt said as they were about to walk out the door.

&
nbsp; ‘Wait,’ she called, stopping all three in their tracks. She looked toward a hallway on her right that led back to more offices, making sure no one else was within earshot, then said, ‘You need to speak with Bjarni Egilsson. Don’t tell Ragnar or Freyja I told you.’

  ‘Thank you, Helga,’ Berg’s voice softened.

  ‘Do you know that woman?’ Lauren asked as they walked with Berg across the street.

  Berg looked over his shoulder at the building. ‘She was married to a childhood friend of my father’s. I haven’t seen her since I was a little boy. She didn’t recognize me at first.’ He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, like he wasn’t about to let her get away with not knowing him.

  ‘Do you know every single person in Reykjavik?’ Lauren cut in, thinking about his ‘know people who know people’ statement earlier.

  ‘There’s less that 400,000 of us in the whole country. We actually have an app for our phones so that, when you meet someone in a bar, it can tell you how closely related you are. That way you won’t sleep with your first cousin.’

  ‘That’s nuts,’ Matt said.

  Berg gave a shrug. ‘That’s Iceland. Anyway, Helga tried to pretend she had no idea who we were or why we were there. I made it clear we were investigating a murder and I wouldn’t put up with her obstructing me.’ He jerked a thumb at the BMW. ‘That’s Ragnar’s work vehicle. She said his driver is in the back break room. Apparently, Ragnar left in his personal vehicle after Freyja called, and told his driver to go home for the day if he’s not back in two hours.’

  ‘You think he’s running from us?’ Lauren asked from the backseat.

  Berg waited until everyone was buckled in and started the car. ‘Hard to say.’

  ‘Then let’s find that Barney guy she mentioned.’ Matt said.

  ‘Bjarni,’ Berg corrected, enunciating it carefully. ‘There’s a coffee shop around the corner. You two can get something to eat while I call the district house and get Bjarni’s information and Ragnar’s license plate. Helga says he’s driving a white Skoda Octavia right now.’

  ‘Helga turned out to be a wellspring of information.’ Lauren noticed a muscular man in his twenties come out of the building and lean against the BMW’s front bumper as they pulled away. ‘I hope we didn’t get her in trouble.’

  ‘Helga has always been as tough as they come.’ Berg pulled out onto the road. ‘I’ve seen her in action. Believe me, she’ll be fine.’

  THIRTY

  Lauren couldn’t get over two things in the Blue Whale Coffee and Tea Shop as she sat sipping her Java with Matt: the front door was wide-open, and two baby strollers were sitting on the sidewalk in front of the picture window. Ordinarily that wouldn’t be cause for concern, except both young mothers were inside drinking their beverages, while their babies slept outside in the strollers. Granted, they were sitting together right up against the window where they had a perfect view of their sleeping infants, and nobody else in the shop seemed alarmed, but it could not be legal to leave your baby outside in the cold while you gossiped.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she pointed to the window for the thirty-something waitress with hair cut so severely short it almost looked like a buzz cut. ‘Is that OK? Them leaving their babies outside?’ In her mind she flashed back to Billy Munzert’s face and the frantic search his parents must have mounted in the neighborhood once they realized their boy had disappeared.

  The waitress gave Lauren a knowing smile that said poor, silly American. ‘It’s perfectly fine,’ she said, putting the sandwiches they’d ordered on the table. ‘The babies are bundled. They sleep better in the fresh air. The heat from the doorway reaches them. You’ll see babies napping outside everywhere. No worries.’

  Lauren looked back at the children, still worrying. All it takes is a second, she thought, one momentary distraction and they could be gone.

  ‘Excuse me, miss?’ Matt stopped the waitress as she tried to leave. ‘I can’t seem to connect to the internet. Can I have the Wi-Fi password?’

  It was the waitress’ turn to point. This time to a small chalkboard sign. Something was written in Icelandic on it in bright Day-Glo colors and punctuated with a smiley face. ‘That says “There is no Wi-Fi here. Talk to each other instead.”’

  She walked over to the serving area and began gesturing to the young man behind the counter. She jerked a thumb in their direction and they both started talking in earnest. Lauren wondered if everyone in Reykjavík knew who they were, or if she was just being paranoid. Except for Helga, every single person they’d met had been friendly and accommodating. But even Helga seemed more concerned than angry, like Berg had said. Protective, Lauren thought, that’s what Helga was being, protective. The question is: protective of who?

  Berg came inside, wiping his boots on a black mat in front of the door. ‘Put that thing away,’ he told Matt. ‘There’s no service in here.’

  Matt tucked his phone into his jacket pocket. ‘We just heard. Thanks.’

  ‘Any luck on Bjarni or Ragnar?’ Lauren asked Berg as he waved his arm at the same waitress. She picked up her fish sandwich and took a bite. It tasted heavenly.

  ‘I have a license tag number for Ragnar’s car and Bjarni gets his mail delivered to a bar called the Wolf’s Den. It’s in the seedy part of town. Not a lot of tourists, but plenty of rich folks from the Shadow District’s pricey addresses like to keep the bars down there in business.’

  The waitress knew Berg and brought a tall brown coffee mug over. ‘Thank you,’ he told her, then made a circle motion to include Lauren and Matt’s food and drinks. ‘Put it all on my bill.’

  She said something back in Icelandic and sauntered off to another table.

  ‘You come in here a lot?’ Lauren asked. Matt was wolfing down his own sandwich, not even bothering to look up as he chewed.

  Berg nodded and took a drink. ‘They stay open late. I like working nights. It suits me.’

  ‘I think we might be looking at the wrong angle here,’ Matt managed after swallowing the last bite of his sandwich. ‘Both Jakob and Freyja were very convincing that Ragnar and Gunnar just had a working relationship and nothing else.’

  ‘Then why is Ragnar ducking us?’ Lauren asked.

  ‘Maybe the business they came to look into in the States wasn’t entirely legal. Maybe that’s why Ragnar dumped his phone.’ Berg scooped some raw sugar out of a bowl on the table and stirred it into his coffee. ‘Maybe Gunnar wasn’t the lover, but was covering for her, whoever she might be. Did your hotel clerk talk about any women they might have met up with?’

  ‘No,’ Lauren admitted. ‘Then again, we never asked.’

  ‘Went right for the obvious,’ Berg chuckled. ‘Never checked to see if Ragnar was spending his time in a lady’s room in the same hotel while Gunnar was out finding his family.’

  Matt put his hand to his forehead. ‘We didn’t. How could we have missed that?’

  Lauren wanted to pound her head into the table again. How could she have missed something so basic? The answer was that in her haste to make Ragnar a suspect, she’d been sloppy. She’d missed double-checking Erna as a suspect and missed pulling all guest records. All the awards and accolades she’d garnered over the years for solving cases meant nothing if she could fail Homicide 101 so easily.

  Lauren was tired of sitting around rooms and talking. It was time to do something. They needed to get a concrete lead. ‘Matt, get on the phone when we get back to the hotel and have our DA’s office get a subpoena for the name of every person that stayed in Gunnar’s hotel the entire time he was there. Right now, I want to find this Bjarni guy.’ She pushed back from the table. ‘Or Ragnar. From here on in, we’ve got to be absolutely thorough. So may I suggest we check out the bar?’

  Matt and Berg both stood. ‘I’m on it, Lauren. I’ll double-check the airline passenger manifests too. Expand our search.’

  She made a bitter sound through her gritted teeth. ‘Maybe we’ll get lucky and Ragnar will get stuck at a red light in
front of us on our way to his office.’

  ‘She’s a charmer, isn’t she?’ Lauren heard Berg say to Matt as she headed past the gossiping moms. She didn’t wait around to hear Matt’s reply.

  THIRTY-ONE

  This is all a waste of time. Lauren’s head was filled with discouraging thoughts as Berg bumped them down the narrow streets. The sun had set, which should have made the shops and storefronts inviting to her. Instead they just reminded her how far she was from home. The police department and district attorney’s office rushed us all the way here to try to finish off a half-assed investigation. We’re just spinning our wheels here and when I come back empty-handed, the department will hang me out to dry for messing the whole thing up.

  Which made sense. What does a police department do with a detective who consistently falls into trouble? Who they consider a liability? Find a reason to fire her. Or create one, if they had to.

  Reykjavik’s seedy part of town in no way resembled a seedy part of town in the States. The street was lined with bars and electronic shops and vapor emporiums, but there were no hookers milling about, no junkies on the corner, no homeless drinking out of paper bags. It seemed positively tame. Granted, the evening was still young, but the vibe was more of a lower-end suburban strip mall, than a haven of dens of iniquity.

  There was no name across the front of the bar Berg pulled across from, only a red neon wolf’s head blazing above the door. Loud techno music pumped from inside every time it opened. Instead of a burly bouncer, a scrawny guy stood by the entrance, hands clasped in front of him, his stringy brown hair ruffling in the night wind. A man and a woman in their thirties stopped and talked to him before the skinny guy gave them the nod to go in.

  ‘It doesn’t look like much,’ Matt said.