Cold Breath (Gunnhildur Mystery Book 7)

by Quentin Bates

  Aníka Björt nodded, her face blank, as Helgi stood up.

  ‘That was painless. Thanks for your time,’ he said. ‘What was the film you went to see?’

  There was a moment’s pause.

  ‘It was a Star Wars thing. It was a bit shit, but Karin likes those movies.’

  The two Patrols appeared outside at exactly the appointed time. Gunna let Valgeir in and he stood awkwardly in the hallway as he waited.

  ‘You can come in and sit down, you know,’ Gunna told him, and he perched stiffly on one of the stools along the breakfast bar. ‘Dinner with the minister? I don’t suppose she’s cooking herself, is she?’ she asked, making an attempt to break the ice.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Valgeir said, nonplussed for a moment before he realized it wasn’t a serious question. ‘Probably not,’ he admitted.

  ‘She’s no domestic goddess?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Osman had dressed in a pale suit, which he wore with elegance and no tie, in contrast to Valgeir, who looked overdressed in what Gunna thought looked like a suit brought out only for funerals.

  ‘Ready?’ Osman asked softly, as always. His voice was never loud but could always be heard clearly, as if other people instinctively fell silent when he had something to say.

  ‘Just waiting for you,’ Valgeir said.

  ‘Then let’s go. I’m looking forward to this,’ he said, and for a moment Gunna believed him, until he shot her a smile and a wink as Valgeir turned away. ‘See you later, Gunnhildur,’ he said, before walking out to the waiting cars.

  The two Patrols disappeared into the night, their lights bright pools in the blackness until they crested the rise and vanished behind the houses in the distance.

  ‘Just so you know,’ Ívar Laxdal said. ‘Your friend Skúli has stirred up a proper hornets’ nest with his article today.’

  ‘Yep. I read it. Is there any truth in all that stuff?’

  ‘All that stuff?’

  ‘About Osman being involved in organized crime. Weapons, slavery. How’s Steinunn taking it? She must be livid.’

  ‘She hasn’t said a word to me,’ he replied with a brief humourless smile. ‘She doesn’t talk to me unless she needs something or wants to point out the police force’s shortcomings.’ He sighed. ‘On the other hand, it has completely diverted attention from the Children of Freedom thing, so she might very well be relieved. I’ve no doubt I’ll hear all about it when the time comes. No need to wait up, Gunnhildur. I’ll let you know when we’re on the way.’

  ‘You’re not dressed up in your Sunday best like young Valgeir?’

  He shook his head and looked at her with resignation on his normally impassive face.

  ‘I’m not invited to the party. There might be some leftovers for the staff, if we’re lucky,’ he said. ‘I’ve no idea when we’ll be back. I’m hoping it won’t be late.’

  ‘Your guy’s out of luck,’ Helgi said, and the grin on Sævaldur’s face made him wince inwardly.

  ‘No alibi. I like that.’

  Helgi twirled his phone in his fingers, as if willing it to ring.

  ‘She’s lying,’ he said. ‘The girl’s not sixteen. Her mother’s a dragon and she was in the room, so the girl chickened out. Said she’d been at the pictures with her friend.’

  ‘You know, Helgi, that suits me just fine. I hope you’re not feeling sorry for Rikki?’

  ‘Of course not. The man’s pond life.’

  ‘Did he fuck the girl, do you think?’

  Helgi scratched his head.

  ‘I’ve no idea and I’m not inclined to speculate. It wouldn’t be hard to put pressure on her; tripping her up would be like falling off a log.’

  ‘Except you’re not going to, are you?’

  Sævaldur glared and Helgi met his gaze impassively.

  ‘I have plenty to keep me busy, Sævaldur. But . . .’

  ‘But what?’

  ‘If the girl calls me at some point and decides to put things straight, then Rikki has an alibi.’

  ‘In which case she’ll go to court, where her underage sex life will be made very public,’ Sævaldur said, folding his arms as if to underline the finality of his words. ‘I’m sure her snooty mother wouldn’t be keen on that.’

  ‘True,’ Helgi agreed. ‘I’m not expecting to hear from her. But I wouldn’t be surprised if she gets a call from Rikki’s lawyer.’

  ‘Until then we can pile the pressure on Rikki.’

  ‘Sure we can. But we can’t prevent Hans making contact with Aníka Björt. And if she gives him an alibi, then he’s off the hook, and instead of a dozen years for murder, he’ll get a fine and a suspended sentence for screwing a fifteen-year-old kid.’

  Gunna dozed on the sofa, stretched out under a blanket and with a book in her hands. She enjoyed the solitude, but wondered about her family. Would Steini and Laufey have been to Happy House for their dinner? Would Laufey even be at home this evening now that she spent more than half of her time in Reykjavík?

  In the last year or so, since she’d started college in the city, Laufey had blossomed, much to Gunna’s relief. She had gone rapidly from being withdrawn to an independent young woman with a new confidence about her. Instead of evenings spent hunched over a computer in her room, Laufey had found herself a new circle of friends in Reykjavík, leaving the village of Hvalvík behind. Gunna wondered how long it would be before Laufey flew the nest and settled in the city, or somewhere further afield.

  She checked the time and felt her stomach rumble. On her own in the house, she hadn’t bothered to cook anything and had made do with a couple of sandwiches instead. She wondered when they would be back, and couldn’t help speculating on Osman’s origins, which he’d been carefully evasive about.

  Gunna levered herself off the sofa and walked around the house for the fifth time that day.

  ‘Gunnhildur,’ she heard Ívar Laxdal’s voice intone in her ear as her communicator fizzed into life.

  ‘Listening.’

  ‘Ten minutes.’

  ‘Got you. Out,’ she replied.

  She tucked the Glock back into its place under her armpit, pulled her fleece on over it and waited for the approaching lights.

  A tight-lipped Ívar Laxdal got out of the black Volvo.

  ‘Everything all right?’

  ‘Fine. How was dinner?’

  ‘Ask our friend when he gets here,’ he replied in a sour voice. ‘He’s had a great time, and he’s bringing company back with him. So much for security.’

  The Patrols arrived together, followed by a squad car. Valgeir got out and opened the back door for Osman, who appeared as casually elegant as he had been when he’d left the house a few hours earlier. Behind him tripped a tall woman, long legs below a startlingly short skirt, and a mass of chestnut hair that seemed barely under control as she swept it back from her face with one arm.

  ‘Is this it? Your hideaway?’ She giggled. ‘It’s really cool, Ossie.’

  Ossie? Gunna thought as Osman’s arm snaked around the woman’s waist.

  The two Patrols disappeared into the night. Gunna and Ívar Laxdal talked in the lobby by the door as Gunna locked it.

  ‘So dinner was a success?’ she said. ‘Who’s the girl?’

  ‘A relative of Steinunn’s,’ he said. ‘I had her checked out and there’s no record on file. No criminal record, that is. So we have to assume that she’s clean.’

  ‘Who is she?’

  ‘Sif. She’s Hallgrímsdóttir, but she uses her mother’s family name. So she’s Sif Strand.’

  ‘Anything between those ears?’

  ‘I’ve no idea.’ Ívar Laxdal shrugged. ‘You clearly don’t keep up with the celebrity gossip about Steinunn’s fashionable family, do you? If you did, you’d know all about Sif’s colourful lifestyle.’

  ‘All right. Are you leaving me to it?’

  This time Ívar Laxdal grinned. ‘I am. I’ll leave you to deal with the lovebirds. He has appointments to
morrow that’ll keep him out of our hair until the evening, so you can go home for a few hours if you like. I’ll be back first thing.’

  ‘Thanks a bunch,’ Gunna said as she unlocked the door.

  ‘You’re tough, Gunnhildur,’ he said, getting back into the black Volvo. ‘You can handle it.’

  The call came later than Helgi expected. He yawned and reached for his phone, glanced at the number he didn’t recognize, and pressed the green button to answer the call.

  ‘Helgi.’

  ‘Er . . .’ He could hear the crackle of wind in the caller’s phone. ‘Is that Helgi the policeman?’

  ‘This is Helgi Svavarsson,’ he confirmed. ‘Is that Aníka Björt?’

  He lifted his feet from the armrest at the far end of the sofa and got to his feet. Halla mouthed a question.

  ‘Work,’ he mouthed back and headed for the kitchen, where he perched against the table with the phone to his ear.

  ‘I . . . er,’ Aníka Björt floundered. ‘I wanted to talk to you about . . .’

  ‘What did you want to tell me?’ He listened to the wind as she fell silent. ‘Aníka Björt, are you still there?’

  ‘Sorry. Yes. Listen, I didn’t really tell you the truth today. You caught me off guard and my mother was there as well.’

  ‘I know. But you’re under sixteen, so she has every right to be there. Legally you’re a minor, so she or a responsible adult has to be present.’

  ‘Shit. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry about what?’

  ‘About lying to you.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Did you speak to Karin?’

  ‘No. Did you expect me to?’

  ‘Well. Yeah.’

  ‘I didn’t need to,’ Helgi said softly. ‘It was pretty obvious you weren’t telling the truth.’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Because the cinema in Kópavogur closed about six months ago. You didn’t go and see a film, did you?’

  The lights in the living room had been dimmed. Osman and Sif were practically horizontal on the soft sofa where Gunna had dozed through the evening.

  Osman chuckled and whispered in Sif’s ear and she giggled appreciatively.

  Gunna turned up the lights and Osman looked at her sternly.

  ‘Is this your granny, Ossie?’ Sif said with a smirk.

  ‘My name’s Gunnhildur,’ Gunna said, taking off her fleece and folding it over the back of a chair. ‘I’m here to look after this gentleman.’

  Sif’s face froze at the sight of the Glock in its holster.

  ‘You’re like a bodyguard, right? Wow! A lady bodyguard.’

  ‘Sort of, Sif. Sort of,’ Gunna said and the woman’s face registered surprise at the sound of her own name.

  Knowing that sleep wasn’t likely, Gunna switched the coffee machine on and sat at the breakfast bar, flipping through a newspaper as she waited for the coffee to brew. At the other end of the long living room Sif’s giggles became throatier and Gunna could hear Osman’s voice becoming more urgent.

  ‘Hey, where’s the bathroom?’

  Sif was on her feet and striding towards her, still tall with her heels kicked off and her hair artfully astray.

  ‘Through there,’ Gunna said, jerking a thumb towards the hall and looking down at the paper.

  Osman was on his feet once Sif had clicked the lock behind her.

  ‘Gunnhildur, would you be so kind as to leave us alone?’

  ‘Actually, no.’

  He glared back at her, as if the refusal were a personal affront.

  ‘I will definitely raise this with Steinunn tomorrow.’

  ‘Be my guest. I’m here to look after your safety, not be a nursemaid. I can’t keep a lookout around this place if I’m locked away in a bedroom, can I?’

  ‘This is ridiculous.’

  ‘If you say so. I have a responsibility for security. If you want some privacy with your girlfriend, then there’s a bedroom the size of most people’s houses. But close the door, please. I don’t want to have to listen.’

  Every ounce of Aníka Björt’s self-confidence had evaporated as she sat huddled in a heavy parka on a bench at the bus station. Earlier in the day Helgi had watched her tell him obvious lies without turning a hair – he wondered if her mother suspected.

  Now all the maturity had been stripped away and she had become a vulnerable child again, ill-equipped to cope with the turmoil she was obviously struggling with.

  ‘I need a coffee,’ Helgi told her. ‘Want one?’

  She nodded and followed, watching as he helped himself to coffee, paid and asked for a Coke for her. He gestured towards a corner.

  ‘So. What do you want to tell me?’ Helgi asked when she had taken a seat and sipped her Coke.

  ‘It’s about what I told you earlier,’ she said, shivering.

  ‘I thought so but didn’t want to push you too far.’

  ‘Why? I mean, why didn’t you?’

  Helgi held his coffee mug in his hands, warming his fingers.

  ‘We don’t all bang the table and demand answers right now. Sometimes it works, but I didn’t think it was going to work with you. I just gave you the opportunity to call me and put things straight. That’s why I’m here now, and that’s just what I’d like you to do.’

  Aníka Björt slouched in her plastic chair, hands deep in the pockets of the parka that was wrapped tightly around her.

  ‘Tell me how you know Ríkharður Rúnarsson,’ Helgi suggested gently and watched her shudder as her eyes lifted to meet his.

  ‘My brother knows Rikki.’

  ‘And where’s your brother now?’

  ‘Prison. Mum won’t talk about it. She said she’s going to disown him.’

  ‘And what’s your brother’s name?’

  ‘Andri.’

  ‘And he’s in Litla Hraun?’

  Aníka Björt nodded.

  ‘I don’t know him. What’s he in prison for?’

  ‘He was stopped at the airport with some drugs. They gave him two years.’

  Helgi nodded to himself.

  ‘He’ll be out in less than a year if he behaves. When did he get put away?’

  ‘A few months ago. I don’t know the whole story. I wanted to go and visit him, but Mum said she wouldn’t take me and it’s a long way to the prison.’

  ‘And your father?’

  ‘He’s not around much these days, and he isn’t Andri’s dad.’

  ‘I see. You miss him?’

  ‘Yeah. I do.’

  ‘So how does Rikki fill the gap?’ Helgi asked, his voice soft.

  Aníka Björt rolled her shoulders, as if trying to pull herself deeper into her coat.

  ‘He was at the gym one day. I used to see him there with Andri sometimes, so I knew who he was. He gave me a lift home a few times, and we’d drive around town,’ she said and her voice faded away.

  ‘And then?’ Helgi asked, guessing where this would lead.

  ‘We go to his friend’s place sometimes,’ she said in an almost inaudible voice. ‘A few times in the afternoons, evenings sometimes if he wasn’t busy somewhere, if his friend was away.’

  ‘That’s Geir Franzson’s house?’

  Aníka Björt nodded.

  ‘Do you know what kind of work Rikki does?’

  ‘Sort of. He trains hard and he said he does security work. That’s why he’s busy so often in the evenings.’

  ‘I know you haven’t heard from Rikki today.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ she asked, looking up to meet his eyes.

  ‘Because Rikki is in a cell at Hverfisgata.’

  ‘The police station?’

  ‘That’s it. And tomorrow he’ll probably be shipped off to Litla Hraun.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Let’s just say it’s serious; he’ll be looking at a lot more than just a couple of months or years in there. Look, Aníka Björt,’ Helgi said, trying not to sound too earnest. ‘Rikki’s a pretty evil character, you
know.’

  ‘He’s not a bad guy.’

  Now it was Helgi’s turn to shiver.

  ‘I assure you Rikki is a very real criminal. He’s under arrest for a very serious offence, and part of what I’m doing is tracing his movements yesterday to find out if they tie in with what he’s supposed to have done. That means I need times and places, so I can nail down where he was and where he wasn’t. Understand?’

  ‘How did you know?’

  ‘Because Rikki gave us your name.’

  ‘He said he wouldn’t ever tell anyone,’ she said, the disappointment welling up inside her.

  ‘Well, he did. I don’t particularly want to defend him, what with Rikki being the person he is, but he didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. I need you to tell me where you were and when.’

  ‘Geir’s abroad somewhere. We were at his house until about midnight, then he gave me a lift home. Well, to the bus stop.’

  ‘So your mother wouldn’t suspect?’

  Aníka Björt nodded miserably.

  ‘Can I ask what you were doing?’

  ‘What do you think?’ she snapped, anger flaring up and her face flushing pink.

  ‘Sorry, Aníka Björt. I know it’s uncomfortable, but I have to be certain.’

  ‘We smoked a couple of pipes and fucked. Are you going to tell my mother now?’ she asked, no less furious.

  ‘That depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘It depends on whether or not Rikki is charged and it goes to court, in which case I’ll need to have a formal statement, and that means your mother will undoubtedly have to be present at the interview.’

  ‘Shit. No. I won’t do it.’

  ‘Well, if you watch the news tomorrow you might find out why your friend Rikki’s in a cell,’ Helgi said. ‘Shall I give you a lift home?’

  Gunna quickly looked through the handbag Sif had left on the living-room table. There was nothing in it of any interest, and Gunna reasoned that if there had been anything suspicious she would hardly have left it lying around.

  The wallet inside showed her Sif’s driving licence, a couple of credit cards, a few photographs of Sif with a muscular young man. Gunna put it all back and shrugged on her fleece. There was no need for an outside circuit of the house after dark and it had been made plain that after dusk she was not required to leave the building. It was long after midnight and although Osman’s groans and Sif’s whoops from the bedroom had subsided, she decided she needed some air.