Chilled to the Bone (39 page)

“Kjalarnes? Hell and damnation. I knew I should have got out there last night.”

“And there’s no siren on this thing, is there?”

“Nope,” Gunna said. “You’d better tell them we’ll be there in ten.”

“Control, zero-two-sixty. Heading for Kjalarnes, estimated five minutes.”

“Thank you, zero-two-sixty. There’s a patrol car from the Krókháls station five minutes behind you and ambulance is right behind that.”

Gunna pushed the pedal to the floor, flashed the headlights on and off high beam and left drivers tapping their heads in disgust as they trailed in her wake. She could sense the tension in Helgi’s voice: “Any idea what the problem is, control?”

“One serious head injury, two in shock. The helicopter’s alerted and the local rescue squad should be there ahead of you.”

“Thanks, control. We’ll keep you informed,” Helgi said, pretending not to be scared as Gunna slowed hard for the turnoff to Kjalarnes, the car’s brakes complaining and its rear wheels struggling to grip the icy road.

They bumped down the road to the solitary house, where they found a diminutive blonde woman speaking to an animated figure next to a blue Land Rover. Gunna walked smartly across just as the wail of sirens on the main road was heard in the distance. A heavy 4×4 was already parked by the door.

“Afternoon, Pétur,” Gunna said smartly. “Looks like the rescue squad’s here. Helgi, check inside, would you? Bára, good to see you. You can tell me later just why you’re here. What’s happened?”

“One man in the workshop with a stab wound to the left side of the head; two women in shock. They’re both in the
main bedroom. Looks like one of them grabbed a file and lashed out with it.”

“A file?”

“You know. A metalwork file.”

“And nobody else has been in or out?”

“No, chief,” Bára said, instinctively falling back on habit.

“Will somebody tell me what the hell’s been happening?” Pétur said, his frustration boiling over. “I’ve just come home and been told by this person that I can’t go into my own house.”

“Well, you heard what the lady said, didn’t you?”

Pétur leaned on his crutch and limped toward the door. “I won’t be kept out of my own home, damn it,” he roared.

“Gunna, the action’s at the back of the place. Just get him to go in through the front door and he’ll be clear of the crime scene,” Bára said quickly as Gunna trotted to catch up with Pétur, taking his arm to steer him toward the front door.

“We’ll go in this way, if you don’t mind,” she said.

Pétur grunted an answer that was neither one thing nor another and pushed his way through the front door, his crutch clattering to the floor.

“Sif! Hekla! Where are you?” he yelled and there was a call in reply from the bedroom. Gunna followed him and watched as he enveloped the girl in his arms, while the woman who was with her clung to him. The puffy, tear-streaked face was unmistakably that of the woman on the Gullfoss Hotel’s CCTV, and Gunna felt a surge of relief at having finally found her.

A patrol car bumped down the road and two officers stepped out. Behind them the blue lights of an ambulance flashed and were reflected from the windows of houses further up as doors began to open and people stared at the sudden flurry of activity in the normally quiet village.

“C
HOPPER JOB, THIS
is,” the paramedic said, shaking his head as his colleague monitored Baddó’s pulse and breathing.
“We need a doctor here before we even try to move this character. What the hell happened, anyway? I’ve never seen an injury like this,” he muttered to Gunna out of the casualty’s earshot. “I’m amazed the bastard’s even alive.”

“That’s what I’m hoping to find out,” Gunna told him. “It’s a first for me as well.”

The paramedic muttered into his communicator, looking anxiously at Baddó, whose expression had remained unchanged, his unfocused eyes staring into the distance. Gunna took in the livid cut down his cheek, some of the sutures having come adrift, leaving bloodless gaps in the line of ragged skin.

Gunna cornered Bára outside. “I’m not saying it isn’t good to see you, but what the hell’s happened? You’ve got quite a bit of explaining to do. Start by telling me how come you’re here, will you?”

“I’ve been working as an investigator since I left the force. Not long before Christmas I had a request to shadow someone and report back. That person had a meeting last night with the man who’s in there with a lump of metal in his head. I’m not sure how it works, or who was blackmailing who, but one thing led to another and, as far as I can make out, I turned up here just as this had happened.”

“All right, so who’s this mysterious person you’ve been tailing?”

“I’m not sure I can tell you.”

“Come on. You were in the force for long enough to know that doesn’t wash.”

Bára frowned. “A guy called Jóel Ingi Bragason.”

“Who skipped the country last night.”

“That’s right. I saw him go through departures at Keflavík last night.”

“Did you? So who are you working for?”

“That’s what I don’t think I should tell you.”

“Really?”

“Actually I’m not sure who the client is,” Bára said. “You may not believe it, but we’ve only spoken on the phone a couple of times. To start with I thought Jóel Ingi’s wife was behind it and that this was a straightforward divorce thing. The client wanted to know where he went and who he met, times and places. Everything was done by email and text, with a report every few days. It was only this last week that I had a call from the client and found out it was a man; he wanted a closer tail and reports by text four or five times a day.”

Gunna nodded slowly. “And where’s this famous laptop?”

“Laptop?”

“That’s your car there, is it?” Gunna asked, jerking her head toward the Renault. “You want me to look in the boot?”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can, and we’d better be quick about it,” Gunna said, shading her eyes as a black 4×4 with tinted windows sped down the street toward them, sliding to a halt in the snow next to the Land Rover. Two figures in suits tumbled out of it and hurried in through the front door.

Bára clicked the fob of her car key and the lights flashed for a moment. “Go on, then.”

Gunna had the case tucked under her arm when the two suits reappeared, chased away from the house and the crime scene by a furious Pétur shaking his fist. They were ushered discreetly past a line of fluttering tape by one of two uniformed officers, who pointed them toward Gunna and Bára.

“Officer, will you hand over that laptop?” Ægir Lárusson demanded, puffing with effort and excitement. “It’s government property,” he added for good measure, and Bára blanched at the expression on Gunna’s face.

“I don’t think that’s going to be possible, Ægir,” she said, keeping her voice calm.

“That laptop is government property,” Ægir repeated, this time spluttering with fury.

“As far as I’m aware, this laptop is the personal property of Jóel Ingi Bragason, and right now it’s also evidence, so the answer’s no. I’m not prepared to hand it over. If you feel it’s your department’s affair, then you’d best go through the proper channels.”

Ægir’s fury boiled over. “Hand that fucking thing over, you stupid woman.”

That was rich coming from a man half a head shorter than her, Gunna thought, looking down on Ægir Lárusson and wondering if his wife cut his hair especially to emphasize the shining bald spot on top of his head.

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.”

T
HE 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 stole 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 in 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 toward 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.”

Í
VAR
L
AXDAL 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.