Fox Goes Hunting

by Paty Jager

  She inhaled and stared, wide-eyed at him.

  “From now on when you are asked a question that pertains to Nonni’s death, I want a straight answer, promises or not. Understood?”

  “Yes.” She batted her eyes and a tear trickled down one cheek.

  Hawke hated tears, especially on women. But he wasn’t going to crumble to female shenanigans. This woman and her friends had to learn sometimes you had to break promises when lives were at stake.

  “Was Ásta jealous of other women Nonni had for friends?”

  Katrín lowered her lashes enough he couldn’t see what was going on behind her eyes. She raised her chin and peered at him. “She is the jealous type. Even though she would go with other men, she didn’t like Nonni to be with other women.”

  “How jealous is she? Would she rather kill Nonni than let another woman have him?”

  She gasped. “Ásta didn’t kill Nonni. She loved him.”

  “What you said doesn’t sound like love. It sounds like control. Is Ásta controlling you, Bragi, and Sindri?” He’d picked up a nervous vibe from the group when Ásta talked. As if the others wanted to make sure they knew her thoughts on everything. As if they feared not pleasing her. “Is she why no one told me where to find Billy? Did she come up with the game of taking me to all the bars?”

  Katrín nodded slightly. “She has always wanted to be the leader of our group, but we all looked up to Nonni. Now that he is gone, she has been telling us what we could say, who we could see.”

  Hawke nodded. “Thank you for coming in.”

  Böðvarsson went over getting the recording of her statement printed. He stood, saying he would bring it in for her to sign. Only this time, as he moved to the door, he motioned for Hawke to follow him out of the room.

  “Where are you going with this knowledge about Ásta?” the detective asked.

  “She may have made an alliance with Billy.”

  The detective nodded. “I’ll have her put in the room next door, so she and Katrín do not pass in the hallway.”

  Hawke walked into the empty room. He rehashed the times he’d been with the group. The night he spoke with Nonni at the bar, Ásta had made it look as if she and Nonni were a couple. He wondered if Nonni had confided in her about his father and Sigga or if he hadn’t trusted her with that information? But then why pull all of them into his attempt to appease the Westons if he didn’t trust her?

  The door opened. Ásta entered followed by Böðvarsson.

  “Please have a seat. Information has come to us that we would like to ask you about,” the detective said as they both sat.

  She smiled at Hawke and sat casually in the chair. “What information is that?”

  “That you took me on a wild goose chase trying to find Billy Weston when all four of you knew where he was.” Hawke remained leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed, watching the young woman.

  “We didn’t take you on a chase. We didn’t know which bar he was in.” She stared him in the eyes.

  Hawke returned her stare. “But you already knew where he was staying. When I showed you his photo and mentioned his name, why didn’t any of you tell me what I’m just finding out today?”

  “Nonni told us to keep his secret.”

  “The secret was void when Nonni ended up dead.” Hawke leaned forward. “Did you help Billy kill Nonni?” It was blunt but it got a reaction.

  “No! I would never help kill Nonni!” She shoved away from the table and acted as if she were going to stand.

  “Not even to keep him from falling for someone else?” Hawke said it quietly.

  Her body deflated against the back of the chair. “Katrín has loose lips. She thinks I am jealous, but I’m not. I only wanted what was best for Nonni.”

  “Was that you?” Hawke asked.

  “No. I wasn’t good for him, but I could keep him happy until the right person came along.” She smiled. “I thought he was in love with Wanza. He always talked about how he sent her an email about school and he obsessed when she stopped replying to his emails. But then I saw him with Riku and I knew that was who he really loved. It showed on his face and in his eyes.”

  “What did you do about that?” Hawke asked.

  She stared at him. “Nothing. I was going to wish them both well when we met at the bar on Wednesday night. But that never happened.”

  “And Billy Weston. How do you feel about him?” Hawke asked.

  Ásta narrowed her eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Were you on his side or Nonni’s?”

  “That’s a stupid question. I was on Nonni’s side.”

  “But you like Billy?” Hawke studied her.

  She licked her lips and shoved at her hair with a hand, stalling. “What has Billy said about me?”

  There it was. She had been seeing Weston. “He told us you spent the night with him on Tuesday and he used your car on Wednesday.”

  “That’s a lie! I wasn’t with him then and he didn’t have my car.”

  Böðvarsson cleared his throat. “That was a different Ásta.”

  She shot to her feet, spouting words that sounded profane in Icelandic. From Böðvarsson’s chuckle Hawke had a feeling Billy would be safer with them than the scorned woman.

  The detective said something and Ásta sat, clamping her mouth closed.

  “From that outburst, I believe you do have feelings for Billy. Did you help him plan to kill Nonni?”

  “No! He didn’t kill Nonni and I didn’t help him.” She glanced from Böðvarsson to Hawke and back. “What time was Nonni killed?”

  Böðvarsson gave her the estimated time.

  She smiled. “Billy was with me.”

  “You just said you didn’t lend him your car or spend the night with him the night before,” Hawke was ready to catch her up in a lie.

  “I didn’t. He picked me up, we had lunch, and then drove back to his place for the afternoon.” She smiled. “He couldn’t have killed Nonni.”

  “Where did you have lunch and did anyone see you going to his place?” Böðvarsson asked.

  She recited a restaurant and acknowledged the person who owned the house saw them when they were getting out of the car. He’d told Billy to park differently.

  Hawke shoved to his feet and walked out of the room, leaving Böðvarsson to repeat about the recording and signing the form. He had a feeling their only suspect was going to be exonerated by the restaurant and his landlord.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The restaurant had remembered Ásta and Billy. It seemed they’d had a bit to drink while having lunch. The man who owned the house where Billy was staying also remembered when the two arrived. Billy had parked on the sidewalk and had been asked to remove the car from the sidewalk. The one person Hawke had believed had the only reason to want Nonni dead, had alibis.

  Back at the police station, Böðvarsson poured a clear liquid into two small cups and handed one to Hawke. They sat in the detective’s office.

  “That did not go so well,” the detective said, throwing back his drink.

  Hawke sniffed the glass. “What is this?”

  “Vodka. It will stimulate your brain. We have to figure out who else could have wanted Nonni dead.” Böðvarsson sat at his desk and opened a folder.

  “I need to look at the surveillance tapes.” Hawke set the glass down, not attempting to drink.

  “I have officers watching the tapes.”

  “They don’t know what they are looking for.” Hawke argued.

  “They have the photo from the other surveillance tapes.” Böðvarsson picked up the glass Hawke ignored and threw it back, giving a sigh. “We must go to what we know. What do we know?”

  “Everyone liked the victim.” Hawke pulled out the file he’d been keeping with his notes and the ones Böðvarsson had passed on to him.

  “He was killed between eleven and one at the boiling mud pool south of Kleifarvatn and east of Krýsuvík,” Böðvarsson added.

  “By some
one who must have followed him in Largess’s rental car, then by foot, keeping out of sight until they came to the mud pool. There he was snuck up on and struck with a rock and fell or was shoved into the pool.” Hawke glanced at the notes on the detective’s desk. “Did forensics ever decide if he fell in or was put in the pool?”

  Böðvarsson studied him. “Does that make a difference? Either way he ended up in the leirhver.”

  “If it was by accident that’s one thing. But if the person who hit him, put him in the pool, that would mean they had a lot of hate for the victim.” He waved a hand. “The motive would then be revenge.”

  “Ahh, I see. If the motive is revenge, then it could be a slight he did to someone and not even have known.” Böðvarsson sighed. “That will make it even harder to discover the killer.”

  Hawke agreed in his head, but he didn’t want the detective to think he’d given up.

  Someone rapped on the door and an officer stuck their head in. “We found something on the tapes.”

  Both men surged to their feet and followed the officer to the tech room.

  The woman, who had helped Hawke before, sat in front of a monitor. “Here is your suspect waiting at the corner and getting into a cab.”

  It did appear to be the same coat and build. But they only had the back of the person.

  “Are there any shots that get this person from the front?” Hawke asked. “Did the suspect come out of the Harpa?”

  “Yes. They came out of the Harpa, but this camera only picked the person up at the door.”

  “What about from across the street?” Hawke asked.

  “By the time we zoom in, the photo is too grainy to make out anything,” the other officer said.

  “Damn! Either this person is real lucky or this was well planned.” Hawke paced back and forth. “He had to have slipped up somewhere.”

  “Keep going over the tapes. Try enlarging to see if you can find anything that might help us get an idea of who this is. And try to pick them up on cameras in the Harpa,” Böðvarsson said. “Come on back to my office and go through the files.”

  Hawke followed the detective wondering if they would get a break in the case soon enough to capture the killer before they ended up back home.

  <<>><<>><<>>

  Darkness had descended on Reykjavik when Hawke and Böðvarsson stepped out of the police station.

  “I will take you to your hotel,” the detective said.

  Hawke didn’t want to leave the police station. They had to discover who would have it out for Nonni. “Did you ever get Nonni’s computer?”

  “Yes, it is in the tech lab.”

  “Has anyone gone through it?” There had to be something somewhere to show he’d had an altercation with someone. It was evident they couldn’t ask his friends since they’d kept vital information from the police.

  “I haven’t received a report, so I would say, no.” Böðvarsson crossed his arms. “I can’t allow you to stay here all night.”

  “Then I’ll take the computer with me.” Hawke grabbed the door handle of the police building.

  The detective threw his hands in the air. “I will check it out to you, but it must be returned in the morning. I’m only doing this because our techs worked on the surveillance tapes all day.” They both walked back in the building. Böðvarsson led him to the tech room, walked in, found the laptop still in an evidence bag and handed it to Hawke. “You will be here in the morning with this.”

  “I will have it here first thing.” Hawke shoved the laptop into his backpack.

  As the detective drove through Reykjavik he asked, “How will you get in? I’m sure there is a password.”

  “I’ll figure it out.” He had a thought. “Actually, drop me off at the Marina Hotel.”

  Böðvarsson glanced over at him. “Why there?”

  “Ásta’s comment about Riku and Nonni being in love. She would be more help to me than his so-called friends.” He added. “Since Riku told us how the others seemed to be hiding things, I don’t think she went out clubbing with them tonight.”

  “That is logical.” Böðvarsson pulled up in front of the Marina Hotel. “Let me know if you discover anything.”

  “I will.” Hawke slid out and walked into the lobby of the hotel. He texted Riku.

  Are you in the hotel? May I come to your room? Need help with something.

  A reply came right back. I am here. Room 256.

  On my way.

  He shoved his phone in his pocket and headed for the elevator. A waving motion to his left caught his attention. He glanced over and moaned. Sigga and Largess.

  “What are you doing here?” the woman asked.

  “Tracking down leads.” He stepped into the elevator and wished he’d walked out of the hotel, because Sigga stepped in, dragging Largess along with her.

  “What leads?” She stood too close for Hawke’s liking.

  He took a step back and hit the wall of the elevator. “Mostly dead-end ones.”

  “It’s got to be hard trying to find out who killed Nonni. He was a good guy,” Largess said.

  “You said you visit with the family when you’re here. Tell me about them? Did they all get along?” Hawke flicked a gaze at Sigga. She frowned.

  “They seemed like a happy family. I mean other than losing their older son to drugs. I think that put a strain on Einar and his wife, but they didn’t quarrel or talk bitter to each other.” Largess glanced down at Sigga. “She knows Einar better than I do.”

  Hawke stopped his jaw from dropping open as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. He glanced at the floor and stepped out. To his relief, the doors closed and he remained standing in the hallway alone. He wondered if the man thought Sigga knew Einar better because they were both Icelanders or that he knew of her sleeping with the victim’s father.

  Following the signs, he found room 256 and knocked.

  Mr. Tanaka answered the door, he motioned for Hawke to enter.

  “Thank you for allowing your daughter to help me,” Hawke said, pulling Nonni’s laptop out of his backpack.

  “We both would like to know who ended Nonni’s life,” Mr. Tanaka said. “I will get Riku.” He walked to a door on one of the walls and knocked. The door opened and Riku walked through.

  She had given him her father’s room, not hers. “Mr. Hawke, I am willing to help you all I can.”

  “Good. We need to get into Nonni’s computer.” He started it up and waited for it to ask for a password. When that screen appeared, he tried her name. That didn’t work. “Any idea what he would use for a password?”

  “He wished to be a crime fiction novelist.”

  Hawke tried all different variations of the words. Nothing.

  “Maybe it is numbers?” Mr. Tanaka said.

  “Good idea.” Hawke studied the screen. “What is your birthday?”

  Riku recited the numbers. They didn’t work.

  “When did you meet Nonni? The date?”

  Riku and her father discussed it in Japanese and she recited numbers.

  The program opened.

  A tear trickled down Riku’s blushing cheeks. “He used when we met as a password,” she said in a whisper.

  The documents had three with titles that sounded like books. Hawke swallowed a lump in his throat. The young man would never finish these or see if he would be published. One document was titled ‘Ideas’. Hawke assumed they were book ideas. He clicked on it anyway.

  It appeared to be ideas on how to persuade the Westons to drop the suit against Nonni and the conference. They weren’t illegal though a bit on the sketchy side. The one, meet Billy where we can’t be seen and try to discuss what we can do to change our father’s minds, set off bells. What if forensics was off on the time they believed Nonni was killed? Billy had a car and could have killed the budding writer at ten and drove back into town in time to pick up Ásta and have too much to drink with his lunch to make sure he was memorable.

  Hawke typed this
into a text message to Böðvarsson and sent it.

  “Did you find something?” Riku asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Hawke clicked out of that document and opened the email.

  The young woman sitting at the table beside him had sent many emails. There was also one from Billy, saying he’d meet with Nonni on Wednesday. Was that why Nonni had wanted to be the person they tracked? He planned to meet Billy before everyone arrived? Another piece he mentioned to Böðvarsson in a text.

  There was a folder in the email marked Wanza. Hawke clicked it and started reading the first email exchange.

  “Did Nonni talk to you about Wanza?” He could tell by the emails Nonni was trying to help the other young woman. He talked of the college in Reykjavik and housing.

  “Yes. He was helping her to get a visa and come study here.” Riku smiled. It was evident she didn’t feel the other young woman was a threat to her friendship with Nonni.

  Hawke nodded. “It seems that she was going to do that and then three months later, she stopped replying to his emails.” He wrote down Wanza’s email address and sent another text to Böðvarsson. Did you ever find Wanza or her mother?

  The emails didn’t give any details into the young woman’s life at all. Just she wanted to come to Iceland to continue her studies. He wondered about money. Hawke glanced at Riku. “Did Nonni say how Wanza planned to pay for college and a place to live?”

  “Public college here is free. Just a small registration fee. She would have lived with Bragi.” Riku glanced toward her father.

  Hawke understood her hesitation. “Mr. Tanaka, could you order up coffee?”

  The man nodded and walked to the phone on the other side of the room.

  Riku leaned close. “She and Bragi became close. They were going to live together while she went to school and see if they wished to marry.”

  Hawke studied the young woman. She spoke the truth. “Why would Wanza stop emailing Nonni after three months? Do you think she found someone else back home?”

  Riku shrugged. “She was young. Only seventeen.”

  “Seventeen? She shouldn’t have been going to bars.”