Fox Goes Hunting

by Paty Jager

There were only three people left at the back of the room. Leonard, Páll, and the bus driver. Hawke picked up his coffee cup and tipped it all the way. Nothing. He could use another cup and something to stop his growling stomach.

  Leonard walked to the table and sat down as only a young man in his late 20s early 30s could do. His spine seemed to be made of wet pasta and his arms crossed across his chest. His vibe was uninterested and annoyed.

  “I can’t believe you have kept us waiting here for hours. Couldn’t you have just called and asked us to come down here when you were ready for us?”

  “Full name please,” Hawke wasn’t going to explain anything to the young man. It was obvious he’d not been part of an investigation before.

  “Leonard Harlow. Which you should know by the fact I signed up for your lousy workshop. I thought we were going to learn something. All we did was walk through the cold following other people and then stopped when you came across a body. You could have at least let us all have a look and see what we could deduce.”

  Hawke stared at the man. “The area couldn’t be compromised by all your footprints.” What he wanted to say; If you had been paying attention, we explained everything as we discovered the unseen trail.

  “Is this your first time to this conference?” Hawke studied the man. His actions were defiant.

  “No. I came four years ago with my dad. He’s the sheriff back home.”

  “Which is where?”

  “Montana. Medicine Lake.”

  “You said you were here four years ago. As a participant or a family member?” He wondered if Leonard had caught up with Nonni, who seemed to have had such an impact on the family members.

  “Family member. I hadn’t decided what direction I wanted to go yet.”

  Hawke didn’t say anything.

  “I decided to follow in the old man’s footsteps. I’m a deputy now, and he wants me to take over the Search and Rescue program.”

  “Do you remember a person named Nonni when you were here before?”

  The young man grinned. “Sure! He was a lot of fun. I saw him yesterday. We laughed about some trouble we got into when I was here. I hope to look him up tonight.”

  “That won’t be possible.” Hawke had always hated telling loved ones a family member had died. He was finding telling all these people who had fond memories of Nonni about his death just as hard. “He was the body we found in the mud pool.”

  “No way!” Leonard shot to his feet, walked a couple of steps, and came back. He stared down at Hawke with a lost expression. “That...the body half in...” His Adam’s apple bobbed.

  “Can you think of anyone who would have wanted him dead?” The best thing to do was push on. If Leonard was going to become a deputy, he’d need to learn to control his emotions and dig up the facts.

  “No one. He got along with everyone. The younger kids and the old people. He was one of those people who knew how to blend in wherever he was.” Leonard dropped back into the chair. “Shit.”

  “Other than the trouble you two found four years ago, did he talk about anything else? A person he planned to meet or trouble he might be in now?” Hawke was grasping.

  “He said he was meeting his friends and talking to you.”

  “So, you saw him before eight last night?” The group had met him in the hotel lobby a little before eight.

  “Yeah, it was closer to six. I registered and then went over and visited with him until someone came up to his table. Then I went to my hotel and had dinner.”

  “What hotel?”

  “Hotel Marina.”

  “Did you see him in the restaurant this morning?” He wondered at the meeting with the young woman. So far no one else staying at the hotel had seen him, other than Chelsea.

  “At the hotel? No. But I was running late. I met up with a girl last night and... I had trouble convincing her she needed to leave my room so I could make it to your class.”

  Hawke studied the man. “You picked up an Icelandic prostitute last night?”

  Leonard’s face reddened. “No! In this country, everyone sleeps around. It has nothing to do with if you like them or not. It’s just, what they do.” He grinned. “My dad said it was kind of like the free love movement in the states in the sixties and seventies.”

  He tucked that information away and asked, “Who did you sit with on the bus?”

  “The pilot from Australia. She is one tight-lipped woman.” He laughed. “Maybe she should go out and get laid.”

  “You can go.” Hawke shifted in his chair. His butt was numb, his cup was empty, and his patience was wearing thin.

  Páll walked up to the table. “I do not know how any of us could know anything about a body found in a hver, hot spring.” He sat with his feet flat on the floor and his spine against the back of the chair. A one hundred percent difference from the last person who sat there. He was also a good fifteen, possibly twenty years older.

  Hawke flipped a page in his notebook. “What is your full name?”

  “Páll Gizuarsson.”

  “Is this your first time at the conference?”

  The man smiled. “No. I have been attending the conference since the first year. It is my homeland, and I have been with Search and Rescue since I became a police officer.”

  “Then you knew Nonni, Einar’s son?”

  The man’s brow wrinkled. “Yes? What does this have to do with the body...” He sucked in air. “I see. Was that poor Nonni in the hver?”

  “Yes. Do you remember when the last time was that you saw him?”

  The man sat still, his eyes half closed as if he were using the backs of his lids as a screen to replay the last time he saw the young man. His eyes opened. “As a local, I volunteer at the event. I have talked with Nonni every day for a week, and did so yesterday evening as we were closing the registration tables for the night.”

  “Did he seem distracted?”

  “No. He was excited. He said you and he were getting together. Ever since your workshop was scheduled, he’d talked of nothing but helping you.” The man’s eyes widened. “Was he who we were tracking?”

  Hawke nodded.

  “Poor boy.”

  “Can you think of anyone who would want to cause him harm? Or anyone he might have told that he was our subject to track today?”

  Páll shook his head. “Everyone liked Nonni. What are the families going to do without him to show them around? He was a big help with that.”

  “Do you think he told anyone where he was going this morning?” Hawke asked again.

  “If you told him not to, I am for sure he did not tell a soul. He was one to do as he was told.”

  “Who did you sit by on the bus?” Hawke was getting a picture of a young man who had no reason to be killed. Yet, he had been.

  “Ragnar Helgason.”

  Hawke noted the other man had said he sat with Páll.

  “Thank you. If you can think of anything, let myself, Sigga, or Inspector Böðvarsson know.”

  The man nodded. Páll walked to the door, and the bus driver shuffled down to the table.

  “Thank you for waiting so long,” Hawke said, indicating the chair across from him.

  “I get paid until I clock out.” The man, in his forties, leaned back in the chair, his legs out in front of him. He had the air of someone who’d been questioned by the law before.

  “Your full name please.”

  “Daniel York.”

  Hawke had thought the man sounded like an American, but he’d also said the local words with ease. “How long have you lived in Iceland?”

  “Twenty years, give or take.”

  “Is this your first time helping out with the conference?”

  “Yeah. The company I usually work for was contracted to help.”

  “Does that mean you don’t know anyone connected to the conference?”

  The man smiled. “This is an island with a small population. Half the Icelanders on the bus, I’ve toted somewhere. A couple o
f the ‘bosses’ I’ve seen in the bars.”

  “Did you happen to know Jón Einarsson, Nonni?”

  The man stared at him. “His car was in the parking lot. It’s the one you were interested in. Is he missing?” The corners of the man’s mouth twitched as if he were hiding a smile.

  “He’s dead.”

  The man didn’t flinch. “They going to shut this circus down? I need this job. My wife is pregnant.”

  “How did you know Nonni?” Hawke had an inky feeling about the man. He was too casual, too uninterested.

  “Met him a time or two at the bars. Nightlife is what Icelanders live for. Otherwise the winters can drive you crazy.”

  “It’s not winter now.” This was the first person Hawke had questioned that his radar said he might be involved.

  “Getting damn close.” York stared at him.

  “The person before you—”

  “Páll. Good guy,” York interjected and smiled.

  The man was trying to take the conversation away from Hawke. “Yes. Páll. You know him in an official capacity?”

  “Oh sure, because he’s a cop, you think I’d know him.” The man scowled.

  Skipping that line of questioning, Hawke decided to see if what Leonard said was true. “One of the people I interviewed said the unattached population here hooks up. Do you know if the girl Ásta that I saw with Nonni is a hook up or a girlfriend?”

  “I would say they are good friends. From what I’ve seen, they have been pretty steady, so I doubt they are hooking up with anyone else.” He winked. “I can get you hooked up tonight.”

  “I’m investigating a death, not here for a good time.” Hawke wanted to finish questioning this man and get something to eat. “Did the same number of people ride to the mud pools as rode back on the bus?”

  York scowled. “I’m not a damn teacher. It was your responsibility Teach, to keep track of the students, not mine.”

  “Fair enough.” Hawke leaned back in his chair. “Can you think of anyone who would have wanted Nonni dead?”

  “Honestly, no. He liked to party, but who doesn’t? He didn’t get into fights and knew how to talk his way out of sticky situations. He was a good guy. He’s going to be missed.”

  “Thanks. You can go.”

  Hawke closed his notebook and stood. The last half hour the chair had numbed his ass. He shoved his notebook into his pack and followed York to the door. He needed food and to connect with Sigga and Böðvarsson.

  Chapter Six

  After catching a meal of lamb and a salad mix at the Bergmál, Hawke went in search of Sigga and the inspector. They were in the conference base room, comparing notes.

  “We wondered if you had finished your questioning,” Sigga said.

  “I did and grabbed something to eat.” Hawke slapped his notebook down on the table. “By all accounts, there was no reason for someone to kill Nonni. Everyone liked him.”

  The two officers nodded.

  “He was an asset to this conference,” Sigga said.

  Hawke studied her. That was different than her description of the young man last night when he’d mentioned Nonni would be the person they tracked.

  Böðvarsson nodded.

  “Which makes me think, either he had a side only a few people knew about or it was a random killing.” Hawke assessed the two as they let his comment sink in.

  The inspector shook his head and Sigga nodded.

  “I don’t think either scenario works with this death,” Böðvarsson said.

  Sigga glanced at the inspector. “A random killing doesn’t make sense given what we know about the crime scene, but it makes more sense than anything else about why he was killed.”

  “We’ll have autopsy results in the morning. Let’s meet here at nine and decide what to do from there.” Böðvarsson shoved to his feet. “I’m going to visit with Einar. Maybe he knows if something different had been happening in Nonni’s life. He should be over the shock by now.”

  Hawke nodded. “I’m going to speak to Nonni’s friends.”

  “Want me to come with you?” Sigga asked.

  “No. I think they will be more open with me. I can’t arrest them for anything.”

  “He has a point,” Böðvarsson agreed. “He has no jurisdiction in Iceland. He is only helping us gather evidence.”

  Sigga appeared put out by the inspector’s agreement.

  Hawke held up his notebook. “Do you want copies of my questioning? And I’d like to see yours.”

  Böðvarsson grabbed the notebook. “I’ll have someone type these up and tomorrow morning we will all have copies of our questioning.”

  Not having his notebook to study overnight, didn’t set well with Hawke, but the others did need copies. “I could have someone at the hotel make photocopies of my notes and bring them to you in the morning.” He put his hand on the notebook to take it back from the inspector.

  “You do not trust me?”

  “I trust you. I want to be able to read through it tonight.”

  The inspector released the notebook. “Very well. But you will need to bring copies in the morning or I will take the book. We need that information to complete the investigation.”

  “I agree.” Hawke shoved the notebook into his pack and pivoted.

  “Do you know how to contact Nonni’s friends?” Sigga asked.

  “I do.” He glanced over his shoulder and held back a smile at her disappointment. Striding to the door, he left the room and found a quiet place to make a phone call.

  “Hello?” a suspicious Mr. Tanaka questioned.

  “Mr. Tanaka, this is Hawke. I was wondering if I could meet with your daughter now?”

  “Oooo, yes. She is at Slippbarinn with friends. I will let her know to stay there and wait for you.”

  “Where is Slippbarinn?” Hawke asked.

  “It is the bar on the ground floor of our hotel. Hotel Marina.” Tanaka’s voice held suspicion. “You do not know of this place?”

  “I’m staying at the hotel across the street from the convention.” Hawke wondered now at his need to be away from the other attendees. It was putting him at a disadvantage for knowing things about the conference and area.

  “I see. She will be wearing red jacket and boots.” The man ended the conversation.

  Hawke stood out on the street. He had no idea which direction to go. Putting Hotel Marina into maps on his phone, he discovered he was less than half a mile from the hotel. Rather than finding a ride, he pulled the collar of his coat up and started walking. One thing he could do without in Iceland was the constant cold wind. He wished he’d brought a stocking cap. Even though it was dark and cold, a consistent trickle of people passed him as he walked to the hotel. Many were locals. He could tell by how they dressed in boots, scarves, gloves, hats, and warm coats. The tourists stuck out, like him, with inadequate outerwear.

  <<>><<>><<>>

  Hawke found the street side entrance to the bar and walked in. The music was loud, people’s voices hung just below the decibels of the band. Some areas were well lit, others dusky dens of people talking in one another’s ears, and excited laughter.

  With no clue how to find Riku in this packed establishment with uneven lighting, he walked up to the bar and waited for the young woman with dark hair to finish giving a patron a show of mixing his drink.

  The woman sauntered down to his spot. “Hello. What would you like me to make for you?”

  “A beer. Nothing fancy. Just a plain beer.”

  Disappointment crossed her face before being replaced with a smile. “That is easy.”

  While she busied herself at the taps, Hawke studied the few tables he could see. He didn’t see a young Asian woman wearing red.

  “For you,” the bartender said.

  He put some bills on the counter. “Take what the drink is and whatever your tip would be.” The money here was hard to figure out. Everything cost thousands of krona. He hadn’t taken the time to figure out the exchange ra
te and hoped everyone he placed money in front of was honest.

  “You haven’t happened to see a young Asian woman in a red jacket and boots, have you?”

  “You are asking the wrong person. I am stuck behind the bar all night.” She nodded to a waitress walking toward the bar. “You can ask Falda.”

  A young woman with curly red hair, a pale complexion, and bright smile walked up to the bar with a tray of empty glasses. She spoke to the bartender in Icelandic and faced Hawke. “You are looking for someone?”

  “Yes,” He repeated the description Riku’s father had given him.

  “She is with Ásta, Katrín, Bragi, and Sindri.” The woman’s smile dimmed. “They told me about Nonni. He was a good one.”

  Hawke found it interesting that Riku was with Nonni’s friends. “Where can I find them?”

  Falda pointed to a corner. “They are in the corner.”

  “Thank you.” He put a thousand-dollar krona bill on her tray and walked the direction the woman had motioned.

  Under one of the lit corner tables sat the three young people he’d met before, plus another young man and two young women. Riku was easy to pick out. She was a pretty Asian girl wearing a red jacket.

  Hawke grabbed the closest available chair and placed it at the end of the table.

  “We were wondering if you would speak with us,” Katrín said, half smiling.

  He nodded and stuck out his hand to Riku. “I’m Hawke, your father was one of my class attendees today. He told me you knew Nonni.”

  The girl barely touched his hand and nodded. “He texted me that you would be coming.”

  Hawke studied the young woman between Riku and Bragi. “Are you one of Nonni’s friends as well?”

  She shook her head. “I never met him. This is my first time coming to Iceland.” Her accent was a lot like Reggie Carlton’s.

  “Where are you from? Are you visiting by yourself?”

  The young woman stared at him.

  “Go ahead and tell him. He is working with the police to figure out who killed Nonni,” Ásta said, her words were shaky and her eyes glittered with unshed tears.

  “Guinevere Ralston. My friends call me Ginny. I’m here with my family. Father is participating in the SAR conference. I met Riku when we were going to go to dinner tonight.”