‘No, of course not.’
‘What, then? You don’t carry a blade unless you’re going to use it.’
The little man’s sheer strength took her by surprise. She had not imagined that someone so thin and small would be able to exert such a powerful grip and she could feel her wrist going numb. At the same time, she was bent over him where he lay on the bed, her nose almost touching his.
‘Or after something else, were you?’
‘No, not at all. Definitely not.’
‘Drop the blade. Throw it on the floor. So I can hear it fall.’
‘I can’t,’ Erna gasped. ‘You’re holding my hand too tight.’
His grip relaxed for a moment. She let the knife clatter to the floor by the bed and Össur jerked her head forward, hauling her bodily onto the bed on top of him.
‘That’s what you need, is it?’ he mocked. ‘You didn’t want to do me any harm, did you? Just wanted a man for a bit of fun, didn’t you?’
‘No, absolutely not. Not in a million years!’
Erna writhed and one knee caught Össur sharply inside the thigh, making him hiss with pain.
‘You’re nasty bitch, you are,’ he winced, sitting upright and pushing her away as he did so, but still holding onto the handful of hair so hard that tears began to blind her.
‘Let me go, please. I didn’t mean it.’
‘Didn’t mean it? Came in here with a blade and you didn’t mean it?’
‘I . . . I just wanted to talk, and you scare me. That’s why I brought the knife.’
‘Like fuck you did,’ he hissed, and dropped her wrist, lifting his hand to deliver a slap across her face that made her shriek.
Gísli looked flustered as he let Gunna in. His clothes were spattered with paint and there was a streak of blue in his hair.
‘Hæ, Mum. What brings you this way?’
Kjartan Gíslason wailed from the next room and Gunna could hear Drífa cooing to him.
‘Simple enough. I’m on the way home and I have to drive right past, so it seemed a good idea to see my grandson. All right, is he?’
‘Yeah, he’s fine. Drífa was just feeding him and he doesn’t want to burp.’ There were pots of paint on the kitchen table and brushes were soaking in a jar in the sink. ‘The living room’s painted, so when it’s dry and I’ve been round the edges, we can move downstairs while I smarten up the rooms upstairs.’
‘You don’t know how long you have the place?’
Gísli shrugged. ‘Haven’t a clue. Old Bryngeir said we could stay as long as we wanted it.’
‘Fair enough. You’re not tempted to buy it?’
‘I would be if it was for sale, but I’m not sure it is, and anyway, we couldn’t afford it right now. The only thing that worries me is if Bryngeir pops off. I’m sure his children would have the place on the market before he’s even cold.’
Gunna nodded and poured herself a coffee. ‘And is he on his last legs?’
‘Not as far as I can see. He was here this afternoon and he seemed lively enough.’
‘Think about it in the new year when you’re back at sea. You’d get the loans easily enough, wouldn’t you?’
‘Well, yeah,’ Gísli said, his mind elsewhere and a thumbnail rasping the stubble along the line of his jaw. ‘At the moment I’m just happy to be renting something that isn’t breaking the bank. It’s a nightmare out there, you know, Mum. It really is.’
‘Spoken to Soffía recently?’ Gunna asked, dropping her voice.
‘Yesterday. Why? Have you?’
‘I have. She’s worried.’
‘About what? Maintenance? Come on, I’m looking after my end of things and she can’t complain I’m not having Ari as often as I can, but it’s not easy.’ His chin lifted and his eyes went to the ceiling and the sound of Drífa’s footsteps pacing back and forth. ‘It’s sensitive. You know?’
‘I know. Of course it’s sensitive.’
‘So what, then?’
Gunna took a breath. ‘Soffía has applied to do a master’s degree in Sweden. She’s concerned that you might not agree to her taking Ari out of the country.’
Gísli shook his head. ‘For crying out loud, Mum. Why would I object?’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘If she was talking about moving to Argentina permanently, then I might have something to say about it. But a year or two in Sweden’s not going to hurt anyone, and I guess she’d be running back and forth anyway.’
Gunna patted Gísli’s hand. ‘It’s all right, sweetheart. That’s what I told her as well.’
‘So what’s she worried about?’ Gísli’s voice had risen and Gunna noticed that the sound of Drífa’s footsteps upstairs had stopped. ‘That I’ll bite her head off and stop her taking the boy to Sweden because she threw me over?’
‘With reason, maybe? And calm down, I’m just delivering a message.’
‘She can speak to me herself, can’t she? Shit!’ Gísli swore and shook his head. ‘We were together for three years and now it’s like I’m some kind of stranger.’
‘You’re not the same person you were during those three years any more than Soffía is. You’re not the easy-going character you used to be, you know.’
‘I know,’ Gísli admitted, deflating, his shoulders slumping. ‘Tell her it’s fine by me, and she can speak to me about more than just who’s picking Ari up and when.’
‘No, Gísli,’ Gunna said, squeezing his hand. ‘You tell her.’
Tinna Lind’s lips parted and presented themselves for a kiss. Her hand had already curled under Magni’s shirt and he had half lifted her to lie across his lap. Magni felt his excitement growing and knew that she had to be feeling the bulge in his trousers, which he was confident wouldn’t disappoint her. Their lips touched; she pulled back for a second and then lifted her head, seeking him out. Her tongue explored his lips just as the shriek from upstairs pulled them from each other.
‘What the fuck . . .?’
Magni was on his feet in a second and pounding up the stairs. Tinna Lind was close behind as Magni shoved the door aside and glared at Össur sitting calmly on the bed, cleaning under his fingernails with the razor-sharp kitchen knife. Erna was huddled on the floor, her back to the wall and her face streaked with tears. A red wheal covered half of her face.
Tinna Lind crouched next to her and wrapped her arms around her as Erna sobbed.
Magni glared. ‘What happened, Össi?’
Össur looked past him at the bikini-clad girls bopping on the television. He shrugged and held the knife up, the point against the tip of his left forefinger.
‘The old bag pulled a knife on me, that’s all.’ He yawned. ‘So I had to show her why it wasn’t a good idea.’
Magni scowled and looked at Erna. ‘Is that right?’
‘I just wanted to talk to him,’ she said between the sobs that welled up from deep inside. ‘We need to get out of here. I can’t stay here. It’s driving me mad.’
‘Tinna Lind, will you take your mother to her room and look after her?’ Magni said. ‘You don’t smack women like that, Össur. You hear me?’
Össur looked away from the television for the first time.
‘Says who? The hired help?
There was a snick as the Baikal appeared and the safety catch was clicked off.
‘Sweet on the girl, aren’t you, Magni?’ Össur’s voice was so low that Magni struggled to hear what he said. ‘Listen, meathead. There’s a stack of cash to split between us when we get out of this place tomorrow, the next day, whenever. If we get out of here. So stop thinking with your balls and start thinking about how to get out of here.’
Magni backed away. The vicious fury in Össur’s eyes was unmistakable and the barrel of the Baikal loomed huge as Össur trained the weapon on him. Magni wondered for a second if he could step to one side and grab Össur’s hand before he had time to fire, but he knew there would be no hesitation on Össur’s part, no second chances would be given. He back
ed slowly out of the door and breathed a sigh of relief as he closed it behind him. A second later he heard the door lock from the inside.
Downstairs he took a pull at the whisky bottle and hid it back in the manager’s office with three more that he’d found in the same place. Erna’s shuddering sobs could be heard through the ceiling, but they had slowed, and the interval between howls became steadily longer until Magni fell asleep on the sofa, huddled under the purloined duvet.
It was late when Tinna Lind crept downstairs and under the duvet. Magni raised an arm and laid it on her back as she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
‘How’s the old lady?’ he muttered.
‘Exhausted. And so am I.’
‘Go to sleep,’ Magni said. ‘We’ll see what happens in the morning.’
3
Saturday
Magni’s arm was numb as he opened his eyes, surprised to see Tinna Lind’s feet in their thick socks in his armpit, while at the far end of the sofa he could see a thoughtful frown on her sleeping face, as if something serious were happening in her dreams. He eased himself gently off the sofa from under her and drew the duvet up to her chin before padding to the kitchen. He spooned up a few mouthfuls of the cold stew left over from the day before and washed it down with a mug of water. In the shower he felt himself wake up properly under the hot water. He wrapped himself in one of the hotel’s fleecy towels and laid his threadbare socks on a radiator to dry.
In the kitchen he put some water on to boil for coffee, noting with dismay that the coffee would also start to run short soon.
‘Morning,’ Tinna Lind said as she appeared behind him. ‘Why did you let me sleep so long?’
‘Didn’t want to disturb you. Have you checked on Erna?’
‘I will in a minute. Is there any breakfast?’
‘Just last night’s leftovers. Warm some of it up in the microwave.’
‘Beef stew for breakfast. That’s really decadent, isn’t it?’
‘Decadent?’
‘You know, unusual. A bit random.’
‘Oh, right. I’ll warm it up if you want to go and check on the old lady.’
He pulled on his trousers and shirt, and turned on the hot plate under the saucepan, which was still half-full of stew. By the time Tinna Lind returned, the kitchen felt warmer and alive with the fragrance of food.
‘She’s still asleep,’ Tinna Lind yawned. ‘Look, I’m sorry about last night. I got a little carried away, and then all that shit happened.’
Magni ladled stew into bowls and put them on the table. ‘That’s all right. These things happen.’
‘Your friend, Össur. He’s dangerous, right?’
‘He’s not exactly my friend.’
‘Yeah, but you know him well enough, don’t you?’
‘Along with all the other pissheads at the Emperor.’
‘How did you get tangled up with him, and us, if you don’t mind me asking?’ Tinna Lind blew on a spoonful of stew. ‘I mean, you can tell me, can’t you?’
Magni growled. ‘I suppose so. Like I told you, I’ve been out of work for a while and berths don’t pop up out of nowhere any more. Someone asked me if I could do with some easy money and I said yes. Like you do.’
Tinna Lind looked up at him and nodded. She swept a lock of hair back over her shoulder. ‘Go on.’
‘Someone said Össur was looking for a bit of muscle to help him out with a problem. All I had to do was go with him and keep the other guy’s minder quiet. So that’s what I did.’
‘And how did you end up here with us?’
Magni sighed. ‘That’s where it all went wrong. There were two tickets to Spain waiting for us at the airport. We were going to go straight to Keflavík and get on a flight to London, and another one from there to Alicante the same day, so there wouldn’t be a direct trail?’
‘Yeah. Understood.’
‘But the driver who was going to run us out to the airport didn’t show up. We came out of this old guy’s place and there was nobody there to pick us up. So we had to run downtown, and by the time it was getting dark we knew Árni wasn’t going to show.’
‘Árni? That’s the getaway driver?’
‘That’s him. We tried to call him but couldn’t get a reply. Then Össur started to get a bit jumpy and he hopped in the back of your car, and by that time we’d already missed our flight.’
‘So instead of being in the sunshine in Spain, you’re holed up in a deserted hotel in the back of beyond?’
‘That’s about it.’
Tinna Lind finished the last of her stew and pushed her bowl away.
‘So what did you go and see this old guy about?’
Magni grimaced. ‘He owed Össur some money, or so Össur says.’
‘And did Össur get it?’
‘Yeah. There’s a bagful of money upstairs that Össur’s sitting on.’
Tinna Lind’s eyes glinted. ‘How much money?’
‘A couple of hundred thousand, I think.’
‘Icelandic money? That’s not that much to be on the run for.’
‘No, euros.’
Tinna Lind sat back and whistled. ‘And my guess is this old guy will want it back, won’t he?’
‘Table for one?’ the waiter asked, without waiting for an answer as he swept past with a tray in his hands.
Gunna waited by Borgarkaffi’s counter and tried to recall what the place had looked like the last time she had been there. Then it had been modern, with plastic furniture and a severe utilitarian look. All that had been swept away now and the place looked like an interior designer’s vision of a European coffee house – all dark wood, clattering crockery and bustling staff in understated dark uniforms with aprons wrapped around them.
Even at this early hour on a Saturday, it was evident that the brand-new look that made Borgarkaffi appear as if nothing had changed in the last five decades was paying off, and she had plenty of time to examine the place before the waiter returned.
‘Table for one, was it?’
‘I’m not a customer. It’s the manager I’m looking for.’
The waiter shrugged. ‘Come back at twelve. She might be here by then.’
‘So who’s in charge until then?’
‘Me, I guess, until Eydís finally shows up. Why, are you from environmental health? There’s an official sort of look about you,’ he said with a sly smile.
‘Nothing so glamorous,’ Gunna told him, showing her identification as the young man’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘CID.’
‘Ah. Then I guess Eydís is the one you need to speak to.’ His eyes flashed suspiciously past her as he checked the tables and the handful of staff attending to them. ‘But I can find a few minutes.’
‘Ten minutes,’ Gunna said, jerking a thumb at an unoccupied table. ‘I’ll have a cappuccino.’
‘Take a seat and I’ll be right with you,’ he instructed, waving to a waitress as she approached with a tray in her hand. ‘Thóra, would you look after the till for me, sweetheart? This lady needs a few minutes of my valuable time. Could you bring us two cappuccinos, please?’
The seat in the window gave her a view over the street outside, where a blustery wind nagged at the coats and scarves of people hurrying through the city centre.
‘So tell me,’ the waiter said with a grin once two cappuccinos had been delivered. ‘You’re from the Special Prosecutor’s office and you’re investigating Eydís’s shady business affairs?’
‘What makes you think that, Leó?’ Gunna asked, making a point of looking at the man’s name badge.
‘Just wondering. Her husband is tied up in all kinds of financial shit and we reckon this place is a tax dodge.’
‘Interesting. I’ll pass that on. But no,’ Gunna said and sipped her coffee. ‘I’m interested in Tinna Lind Bogadóttir. I understand she works here.’
‘She’s worked here on and off for the last couple of years, and she’s a real grafter when she’s here. Works like a
slave.’
‘When she’s here, you said.’
‘Yeah. Haven’t seen her for a few days and she should have been at work here today, so I had to call someone to fill in for her. Why? What’s she done?’
‘I’m not sure she’s done anything. You haven’t seen the ads? She’s been reported missing. Tell me about her. Has she worked here long?’
Leó’s cup stopped halfway to his lips. ‘She’s disappeared? Again?’
‘She’s done this before?’
Leó nodded. ‘That’s just it. Like you said, when she’s here. Tinna Lind likes to travel and once she has enough saved up for a flight to somewhere warm, she’s off. There’ll be a day’s notice and she’ll disappear for a week or a month, or more.’
‘You know where she likes to go?’
‘Anywhere, I reckon. She likes Portugal, Italy, Greece. She had one trip to the Caribbean but said she didn’t like it a lot, too many fake zillionaires.’
‘And she travels alone? Does she tell you what she does on these trips?’
‘Normally alone. I gather there might be an on-off boyfriend somewhere a long way south of here.’
‘But you’ve been here for a while, and so has Tinna Lind. How well do you know her?’
Leó shrugged and sat back with his arms folded as he gazed out of the window as an empty carrier bag was caught by the wind, which swept it high into the air and twisting as it flew, until it was caught in the bare branches of a tree.
‘I don’t know her well at all. She keeps to herself, doesn’t say too much. I don’t know much about her personal life, although I get the feeling she can be very focused if she has something to focus on. I know I can rely on her completely once she’s here, but I can’t always be sure she’ll turn up. Tinna Lind could have been the manager here if she wasn’t always running off to the sunshine. She knows that but I guess she’s not interested.’
‘Something of an enigma, then? Any boyfriends in Iceland? Does she socialize with colleagues here?’
‘Not that I know of. There’s not a lot of socializing that goes on here. The staff turnover is pretty high, so people don’t really get to know one another well before they move on.’
Thin Ice: An Inspector Gunna Mystery (Gunnhildur Mystery Book 5) Page 7
