by Paty Jager
The second report stated there was brown fluid in the sphenoid sinuses, and edematous/boggy lungs with aspirated bog fluid.
Hawke went back to the rock. He picked up his phone. It buzzed in his hand. Dani.
I’m walking around Gullfoss. It’s a beautiful waterfall. The people are all friendly and speak such good English, I don’t feel like I’m in another country. Will I see you soon?
Unsure. We have our murderer but getting her to talk is another thing. I’ll let you know if I can meet for dinner.
Sounds good. Good luck!
Thanks.
He read the message again and smiled. Experiencing more of Iceland with Dani was going to be a trip he wouldn’t soon forget.
Glancing at the forensic report, he found a phone number and put the call through.
“Hállo,” and then he didn’t understand what the woman said.
“Hello, I’m State Trooper Hawke working with Detective Inspector Böðvarsson on the Jon Einarson case. I would like to talk to Halla. I have a question.”
“Oh yes, I can put you through to her lab.”
The phone made some clicks and another female voice answered. “Hawke, how may I help you?”
“We think we have the person who killed the mud pool victim. But I have a question. From where the victim was struck on the head, can you tell how tall the attacker might have been?” There was a good four to five inches difference in Rowena and Kanika’s height. Which, now that he thought about it, would help them tell who was wearing the coat.
The woman came back on the line. “My researchers figure it would have been someone slightly shorter than the victim. The blow was lower on the back of the head than if it had been by someone taller. Does that help?”
Hawke smiled. They had her. “Yes. Can you send that in writing over to Detective Inspector Böðvarsson?”
“Yes, I can.”
“Thank you.” Hawke stood and walked back to Böðvarsson’s office. “We have her.”
Böðvarsson put the phone back on the cradle. “What did you come up with?”
“Looking at the forensic files I wondered where the rock struck the victim on the head. And according to Halla, the assailant had to have been a few inches shorter than the victim. That would be Kanika. I would say Rowena is a couple inches taller than Nonni.” He tapped the folder with his finger. “And we should check the photos of the person wearing the coat. The photos show the same shoes, but I believe in the photo where the message was being left for me, the coat bottom is higher up on the wearer’s legs.”
Böðvarsson pulled the photos out. “You’re right. Rowena left the note for you. But why would she try to incriminate Sigga?”
“I think she was just trying to get us to look somewhere else, but we hadn’t even started looking into Kanika.” Hawke put his hand on the doorknob. “Ready to see if we can get her to break?”
Böðvarsson shook his head. “She asked for a lawyer, we have to wait for one to show up. In the meantime, I’ve filled the prosecutor in on what we think. Kanika did the killing but Rowena Albright was also mixed up in it.”
“Did the shrink in Kenya give you any help with how to get to the truth with Kanika?” Hawke asked, moving to the chair by the detective’s desk.
“He said, she is stubborn. We’re either going to have to play on her sense of justice, why she became a policewoman or get her mad to where she just starts barking back and not thinking about what she’s saying.”
Hawke liked the first way better, but had a feeling her sense of justice had been skewed since she’d killed a person to, in her mind, get justice for the mother and daughter. “Then I guess we follow the path that she gravitates toward.” His stomach growled. “Any chance we have time to grab something to eat?”
The detective smiled. “That’s a good idea.” He stood and walked into the hall. Stopping at the officer still standing in the hall outside the room where Kanika sat, he said, “Call me when her lawyer arrives.”
The officer nodded.
Hawke followed the detective down the hall and out the back of the building.
“You’re in for a treat. My favorite place has seafood soup today.” Böðvarsson slid behind the wheel of his car and Hawke settled into the passenger seat. He liked fish and was curious about the seafood soup.
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Hawke leaned back in the chair. The small restaurant had known Böðvarsson when he walked through the door and gave them a nice table in the corner away from the other patrons. The soup and bread were delicious. The mussels were still in the shell in the soup, but he didn’t mind digging for the meat. The broth was creamy with a hint of tomato.
“That’s an Icelandic lunch,” Böðvarsson said, raising a glass of beer.
Hawke had refrained from beer this early in the day. He picked up his cup of coffee. “I’ve never had soup like that before. It was better than I thought it would be when you mentioned it.”
The detective laughed. “We eat a lot of fish and lamb. And vegetables. The geothermal heat is used in hothouses.”
“I’m excited to explore more of your country this week. My friend has arrived. I’m sure she is mapping out our routes.”
Böðvarsson’s eyebrows raised. “She? Then it is a woman who you are spending time with this week?”
Hawke grinned. “Who did you think I’d spend my time with?”
“Sigga suggested you were not interested in women.”
Hawke laughed. “Because I didn’t jump into bed with her.”
“I told her I thought maybe you just weren’t into one-night flings.”
“True.” Hawke finished off his coffee. “I can’t believe Kanika hasn’t found a lawyer by now. I would have thought Rowena would have supplied her with one. If they are friends.”
The corners of Böðvarsson’s eyes crinkled. “She has a lawyer. I was texted halfway through our meal. I wanted to give them time to talk and see if maybe he would talk sense into her and she would admit to killing Nonni with Rowena’s help.”
“Good thinking. Let’s go see.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
“What are the charges against my client?” the short bald-headed man sitting next to Kanika asked as soon as Hawke and Böðvarsson entered the room.
The detective had stopped in his office long enough to pick up the information Halla had sent over and the arrest warrant the prosecutor had sent over. He slid the arrest warrant across the table to the lawyer.
The man read it and shook his head. “Ms. Tumaini says she didn’t kill this man.”
“We have proof she did,” Böðvarsson said, sliding the forensic report across the table.
Again, the man read it. He shoved it back. “That is nothing more than a forensic report. Anyone could have hit the victim on the head with a rock.”
Kanika flinched at the man’s comment.
Hawke didn’t know if Böðvarsson saw it, but it meant she didn’t want to relive the moment. One that he was sure was pushed by Rowena. If he could just get her to see that the other woman had driven her to do the unspeakable. He had a thought.
“Kanika, did Rowena call you on the anniversary of her cousin’s death?” Hawke waved away Böðvarsson’s throat clearing.
“What does this have to do with the charges against my client?” the lawyer’s forehead was beading with sweat.
It was a clue that the lawyer was working for the Albrights. “I’m wondering if Rowena didn’t bring up the idea of settling the score then and talked your client into taking her vacation this past week and signing up for the conference so the two of them could get their revenge for Mari and Wanza.” Hawke didn’t look at the lawyer. He kept his gaze on Kanika. She didn’t look up from her clenched hands on the table.
“I think she masterminded all of this and now that you’ve been caught, she’s planning to have you take the fall for all of it.” Hawke leaned across the table, catching the woman’s gaze. “Rowena left Kenya as a child. She didn’t real
ly know her cousin like you did. You worked side by side with Mari, enforcing the law. Do you think she would have condoned what you’ve done? She was so grieved over her daughter’s death—something that could have been avoided had Mari been thinking straight—that she took her life. But she didn’t take the life of the young man who had loved her daughter—still loves her. He doesn’t know she’s dead. He tried to locate her, but couldn’t.”
Kanika stared in his eyes now. “I tried to tell her that maybe it would be good for Wanza to get out of Kenya. Times are not good for women. Mari and I tried to show her that you didn’t have to be less worthy than a man. Mari feared that was how the man here would treat Wanza. Use the child to keep her lowly.”
Hawke shook his head. “She would have been loved, respected, and taken care of. That I’m sure of having met the young man. I only wish Mari would have allowed Wanza to reach out to him. Many lives would have been saved.”
Tears trickled down the woman’s face. “It is as you say. Rowena was angry when I told her about Wanza and how it ate at Mari and she took her life. She asked me who the man was. I told her I did not know.”
The lawyer put a hand on her arm. “They don’t have enough to prove you did anything. You should not say anymore.”
She shook his hand off. “I am an officer of the law. I know I have broken the law and wish to tell my story.” Kanika shifted her gaze to Böðvarsson. “Is the recording going?”
He nodded.
“It was on the anniversary of Mari’s death that Rowena contacted me. She began talking about Mari and her death and how it was the man’s fault we lost Mari and Wanza. She suggested we come to the conference and find out who the man was and confront him. That was what she said, confront him.” Kanika licked her lips. “May I have some water?”
Böðvarsson rose, opened the door, and spoke to the officer. He returned.
She continued, “When I arrived, Rowena said she had found the man. His name was Nonni. She pointed him out as we stood in line to register. He had a young Asian woman talking to him. They were laughing and holding hands. I said, ‘He is going to get another girl in trouble.’ Rowena fed this anger in me. She said we had to stop him before he ruined another woman’s life.”
A slight knock on the door interrupted the woman. An officer entered with a glass of water. He handed it to Böðvarsson who placed it in front of Kanika.
She thanked the officer, who left the room, and drank about a third of the glass before continuing.
“Tuesday night, when we were in Kevin’s room, Rowena told me to take the keys after Kevin made the comment he would not be able to go anywhere until Friday night. Later in our room, she said we could use the car to follow Nonni. She was up and gone when I awoke Wednesday morning. But she called me and said to get ready for the hiking part of your class, bring the car keys, and meet her in the hotel restaurant. She told me she overheard Nonni saying he was the person who was going to be tracked. She said that was the best time to get him alone and seek revenge.” She put her hands over her face, scrubbed her cheeks, and sighed. “I followed him to the parking lot, waited to see which way he went, then kept my distance. But I lost sight of him and not wanting to leave my prints near his, I wandered around, until I came to the mud pool. He was already in the pool when I found him. Seeing him lying there, knowing I’d followed him, I knew if I said anything, you would think I killed him. I hurried back to the parking lot in a wider angle than before. I returned about ten minutes before the bus arrived. I waited until it stopped and walked behind it, joining everyone as they got off.” She stared in Hawke’s eyes. “I did not kill him. But I realize now that Rowena’s suggestions of returning for the car, rather than having Kevin call it in as stolen, returning the keys, it all makes me look guilty.”
Hawke had watched the woman as she told her story. He believed her that she didn’t kill Nonni. But he had a feeling that Rowena did. Why else would she have set Kanika up? Perhaps she believed Kanika could have done more to save her cousin?
Leaning back in the chair, Hawke crossed his arms and peered into the woman’s eyes. “I believe you. But I still think Rowena has something to do with it. Did you see anyone in the car with Nonni?”
“No. And I did not see anyone else walking. There was just the two of us.”
Hawke had another question for the woman. “Why did you try to hide the coat in the glacier?”
The woman’s eyes widened. “You found it?”
“Yes. Why the glacier and not just chuck it into the harbor?” Hawke could see she was also wondering that.
“Rowena told me to bring it. When she saw the crack, she said she would keep you busy while I shoved the coat into the crack.” She shook her head. “On the drive back, I realized she did that to make me look more guilty.”
Hawke nodded.
Kanika shifted her gaze to Böðvarsson. “I did not kill Nonni. I am only guilty of not contacting the police when I found the body and being coerced into doing things I would not normally do.”
The detective nodded. “We’ll worry about that later. But I think, since Rowena wants you to be accused, we’ll keep you here, not under arrest but to keep her thinking her plan has worked.” Böðvarsson narrowed his eyes at the lawyer. “Are you also the lawyer for Mrs. Albright?”
The man nodded his head.
“I’ll have to detain you to keep you from contacting her.” Böðvarsson held out his hand. “Your phone please.”
“I have other clients that might need my services,” the lawyer argued.
“You can remain in this room with Ms. Tumaini or you can be booked for aiding in a homicide. Which would you rather it be?” Böðvarsson’s hand remained palm up over the table.
The lawyer placed his phone on the upturned hand.
“You will both be allowed to leave, when we have what we need on Mrs. Albright and the person who killed Nonni.” Böðvarsson picked up the files.
Hawke followed him to the door and spun back to the room. “You wanted us to know the truth. That’s why you told me you rode to the mud pools with Mari, your dead friend. You were giving me a clue to why Nonni was dead.”
Kanika nodded.
“But why did you continue to let Rowena tell you to do all the other things, like the note and leaving the coat?”
She shrugged. “She has a strong personality that is hard to disobey.”
Hawke stepped out of the room.
“Helvítis! I thought we had the murderer,” Böðvarsson said, shoving his door open and dropping the files on the desk.
Hawke dropped into the chair in front of the desk. “It has to be someone who knew where Nonni was going.” He thought back to when he talked to Nonni. “His friends, Ásta, Katrín, and Bragi were there. He could have told them...” He thought about the three and the way they had behaved around Nonni. They had all seemed like genuine friends. What was it Einar had said, he thought Nonni was going to ask Ásta to marry him. But it was clear that Nonni and Riku were in love.
“We need to recheck the time line for Ásta and Billy on Wednesday.” He pulled the file to him and started reading the information.
“Why those two?” Böðvarsson asked.
“Because they are the only two who really had a problem with Nonni. Billy because of the defamation of his father, and Ásta because Nonni was in love with Riku.”
“I’m confused. Then where does Mrs. Albright fit into all of this?” Böðvarsson sat in his chair and stared at Hawke.
“Right in the middle.”
Chapter Twenty-eight
Hawke held Kanika’s recorded interview in his hands. “Right here. If we believe Kanika that she found the body, returned to the parking lot, and waited ten minutes for the bus to arrive, that means Nonni was killed between ten and ten-thirty. That would have been plenty of time for Billy to get back to town and pick up Ásta for lunch.”
“He said he drove Ásta number two’s car there to meet Nonni at three and saw the police cars.�
�� Böðvarsson shuffled through the pages in his folder.
Hawke paced the room, thinking. “Did he pick up Ásta for lunch from work?”
Böðvarsson plucked a paper from the file. “That’s what it says.”
“Where does she work?” They had to find a hole in their story.
“A dress shop in the Kringlan shopping center.” Böðvarsson stood. “Would you like to buy your friend a dress?”
Hawke grinned. “I think I would.”
On the drive to the shopping center, Böðvarsson explained the center was just off a freeway that headed south.
In the store, they asked to speak to the manager. She was a tall, thin, gray-haired woman of about sixty.
“How may I help the police?” she asked.
“We were wondering if you could tell us what time Ásta came in to work on Wednesday last?” Böðvarsson asked.
The woman marched to the back of the counter and began tapping on the computer. “She called in sick that day. We didn’t see her until Friday. Is she in trouble? I only hire young men and women who aren’t in trouble in any way.”
“We are just clarifying things. Do you happen to know if she comes to work in a car or rides the bus?” Böðvarsson asked.
“I believe she has a car. Though she mostly rides the bus to work.” The woman studied them both. “I know the young man who was killed last week was a friend of hers. She was devastated when she came to work on Friday.”
“Thank you. You’ve been helpful.” Böðvarsson pointed to a bright blue dress. “Would your friend like that one?”
Hawke shook his head. “She’s more a jeans and overalls person.”
Böðvarsson grinned. “I hope you will introduce us.”
Walking out of the store, Hawke had a feeling the detective would have them pulled over just so he could meet Dani.