Frozen Assets

by Quentin Bates

  ‘Is that Dísa?’

  ‘Dísa? No, she left. Ill health, depression.’

  Jón Oddur had not recovered from his ordeal outside. The office lights weren’t doing him any favours, she noticed. The man’s skin looked blotchy and there were bags under his eyes.

  ‘Tell me about the party,’ Gunna prompted.

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘Who was there. What went on.’

  He groaned and slouched back in his chair. ‘All right. It was the PR Practitioners’ Awards night. Sigurjóna was slated for an award, so we needed a presence.’

  ‘So this is a PR company, right?’ Bára asked. ‘How come Spearpoint is involved in managing a construction site?’

  ‘It basically evolved into a project management operation. Sigurjóna had been doing PR work for a long time and when she got involved with InterAlu, she was asked to lay on fixers and interpreters. It all snowballed from there and the company has been growing really fast over the last year and a half.’

  ‘All work with InterAlu?’

  ‘Yeah, and ESC, and more foreign companies are coming to us all the time now.’

  ‘ESC and Spearpoint aren’t the same thing?’

  ‘The offices of both are here. But Spearpoint is privately owned and ESC is a limited company.’

  ‘Owned by?’ Bára asked.

  ‘Sigurjóna, her husband, a few other people, and InterAlu.’

  ‘And if InterAlu pull out, Spearpoint loses its biggest customer?’ Bára asked and Jón Oddur nodded again.

  ‘And ESC becomes worthless. Worse than worthless, actually,’ he said, squirming in his seat.

  ‘Look,’ he groaned finally. ‘You didn’t hear this from me, but you’ll hear it soon enough anyway. On Friday Glitnir Bank will inform the Central Bank that it’s unable to service its debts. It’s not ESC’s bank, but that one isn’t in any better position. It’s just a case of when.’

  Startled, Gunna wondered what to say, but settled for glaring into Jón Oddur’s face.

  ‘They probably won’t announce it until after the weekend, but just wait and see. Everyone knows something big’s about to happen after the currency’s been on the slide for months. It’s only a few of us know what’s really happening.’

  ‘And this affects ESC?’

  ‘Of course it does!’ Jón Oddur yelped. ‘It affects every business in the country! But ESC is due to be financed for the big phase of the Hvalvík Lagoon project by the bank, and some of us know that the bank doesn’t have anything left to lend.’

  Gunna drew a deep breath. ‘Well, young man. I hope you’re wrong.’

  ‘So do I. But this isn’t just happening in Iceland. This is all over the world. I tell you, Iceland is looking at unemployment and inflation, big time,’ he added gloomily.

  ‘In that case, I’m sure that the police force will be able to fill a few vacancies,’ Gunna said tartly, shocked at Jón Oddur’s prediction and forcing herself to keep her mind on the job. ‘Now, the awards night.’

  Jón Oddur deflated and slumped in the chair. ‘OK. There were half a dozen of us from here went to the ceremony. We booked rooms at the hotel and there was a party afterwards in Sigurjóna’s suite.’

  ‘Who attended?’

  ‘Er, me, Sigurjóna. Ósk was there but she left early. Sigurjóna’s sister was there as well and a few other guests,’ he gabbled as Bára scribbled down names in her folder.

  ‘And the one you haven’t mentioned?’ Gunna said gently.

  Jón Oddur was suddenly on the defensive. ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘This guy.’

  Gunna placed the printout of the pages from Hot Chat on the table. Jón Oddur looked up and then down again in surprise at seeing the photo of himself.

  ‘Oh, him. Yeah, he was there as well. Sigurjóna invited him. This is . . . where did you get it from?’

  ‘You didn’t mention him. Why?’ Gunna demanded, ignoring Jón Oddur’s question.

  ‘I don’t know. Just forgot. We don’t normally have anything to do with him anyway.’

  ‘Tell me about this man. Do you know where he lives?’ Gunna probed.

  ‘No. We don’t know anything about him, really. I know he’s one of the InterAlu people but he reports direct to the boss.’

  ‘Hverfisgata? Above Sindra Foto?’

  ‘Oh. That place. Look, I pay the guy every month and he keeps the flat free for whoever we need to put in there. I suppose Sigurjóna must have told him to stay there,’ he said quickly.

  ‘I don’t believe you. I think you knew very well that he was staying there. What happened at this ceremony? Where did he go afterwards?’

  ‘Why? What’s he wanted for?’

  ‘Can’t discuss it. All I can say is that it’s a major investigation.’

  ‘I’m not sure where he went. Erna was all over him and I think they disappeared about the same time. They were both there at the awards but I don’t remember seeing either of them at the party in the suite upstairs.’

  ‘What time did the party begin?’

  Jón Oddur hung his head and twisted his fingers in circles. ‘I don’t know. I was quite wrecked, just like everyone else there. Two, maybe. Something like that. Look, haven’t I told you enough yet?’

  ‘Not until you’ve told us everything,’ Gunna said sharply.

  Jón Oddur rested the back of his head in his hands as he looked up at the ceiling. ‘All right. The awards were OK, just what everyone expected. Sigurjóna got her award, made a speech, blah, blah, got her glass thing and that was that. More awards, lots of speeches. So, by midnight everyone’s pretty fucked up. Sigurjóna dropped her glass award and she was furious, accused me and then Ósk of breaking it. Anyway, it calmed down and there was some crappy seventies band on that only the old people wanted to dance to. Then we all went up to the suite and we had a little party there, about ten people, something like that. It’s a bit hazy,’ he admitted with a nervous smile.

  ‘All people from Spearpoint?’

  ‘Yeah. No, well, mostly I think. There were some women there I didn’t recognize. Foreign. And there were quite a few people who came and went.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘Hell, I don’t know. I woke up in my room at about six in the morning next to Sigurjóna. I still had my tux on. She’d lost her dress somewhere, though. I don’t remember anything between the party and waking up. That’s it. Then you banging on the door’s the next thing I knew.’

  Gunna tapped the picture on the table in front of her. ‘When was the last time you saw him?’

  Jón Oddur’s brow furrowed as he fought to remember. ‘It’s all really hazy, y’know. I reckon at the end of the dance in the ballroom. The last I saw of him was at the table, I suppose. I don’t think he drinks. But Erna can really put it away and she’d draped herself all over the poor guy.’

  ‘Are you saying that they might have left together?’

  ‘Could have. Don’t know.’

  ‘All right, Jón Oddur. That’ll do. Now, where’s Sigurjóna today?’

  Jón Oddur shrugged. ‘She’s not here today, which is fine with all of us. We get a lot more work done when she’s out of the office.’ ‘So she’s where?’ ‘No idea. At home, maybe? Ósk always knows where she is.’

  ‘Where’s Sigurjóna?’ Gunna growled.

  Ósk began to rise to her feet but stopped halfway at the sight of the expression on Gunna’s face. ‘She’s not here today.’

  ‘Phone number? Address?’

  ‘I’m not at liberty to divulge that,’ she repeated angrily. Gunna could see the blood rising across her neck and into her face.

  ‘You will be if I come back with a warrant.’

  ‘If you do, our legal team will be waiting for you.’

  ‘Look, I won’t come back with a search warrant, it’ll be a bloody arrest warrant.’

  ‘For what, may I ask?’

  ‘You may well ask, and it’ll be for possession of and intent to supply a class A d
rug, and I’ll alert every officer in the country to arrest her on the spot and haul your boss to the nearest police station until I get there. While you’re at it, I want her sister Erna’s address and phone numbers as well.’

  Ósk scribbled phone numbers and addresses on a slip of paper and passed it across.

  ‘You didn’t get that from me,’ she snarled, her face flushed and this time rising to her full imposing height.

  ‘We’ll see. I’m warning you not to let her know that we’re on the way. If she’s not at home, I’ll be back and you’ll be charged with obstructing a police investigation. Let’s go,’ Gunna snapped, striding to the door with Bára, fumbling to answer her phone, at her heels.

  ‘That was fantastic,’ Bára said in admiration once the door had slammed shut behind them.

  ‘Bloody woman,’ Gunna rumbled as she ignored the lift and took the stairs three at a time. ‘I’m going to drop you at the Gullfoss and I want you to go through the staff who were on duty on Friday night. Find out who was there, and especially when Hårde left, and if he left with Erna. Find out where they went. They must have got a taxi if Erna was as pissed as Jón Oddur reckons.’

  ‘Right,’ Bára puffed, wondering how someone built on generous lines could have so much energy.

  ‘Seven thirty tomorrow. Let me know then what you’ve found out.’

  32

  Tuesday, 30 September

  Birna Ólafsdóttir lay back as far as she could and closed her eyes, but she kept the seat fully upright out of consideration for the people in the row behind. The rest of the party were scattered around the aircraft, the price of having changed their arrangements at short notice. She was relieved to be seated between strangers, away from colleagues and their need to discuss work.

  She was not unhappy to have the trip to Berlin cut short, although she carefully made no outward show of it. A civil servant is just that, she felt, a servant with a role to play during working hours. What her personal opinions were did not come into the equation and she also took a quiet pride in maintaining a distinct separation between her career and her personal life.

  The ministerial party had not been due to return to Reykjavík until Friday, with a morning flight after the obligatory cocktail party scheduled for Thursday evening and the formal dinner that followed. This was something that she would have been excused, leaving the Minister to consume rather too many liqueurs and smoke the cigars she knew his wife did not allow him at home. Birna had not scheduled anything for her Thursday evening in Berlin beyond a room service meal and an hour or two in front of the television after a long bath.

  But a walk along Kufürstendamm yesterday morning and coffee, as if by chance, with some old friends while the Minister was still clearing his head of the previous evening’s brandy had been enough of a pleasure to make the trip as a whole enjoyable.

  ***

  A police car was already in the drive of Sigurjóna and Bjarni Jón’s discreet mansion in Seltjarnarnes when Gunna parked behind it. Gunna scowled to herself, wondering what was happening as she scrunched up the gravel path in the first frost of the autumn to ring the bell.

  A young policewoman answered the door. Gunna recognized her and racked her memory for the girl’s name.

  ‘Edda, isn’t it?’ she hazarded.

  ‘Yeah, I’m Edda Sif. And you’re from Hvalvík, aren’t you? Gunnhildur? What brings you here?’

  Gunna stepped back and motioned for Edda Sif to step outside as well.

  ‘What’s going on? This is Sigurjóna Huldudóttir’s place, isn’t it?’ she asked when they were out of earshot of the mansion’s gaping hallway.

  ‘That’s right. She’s inside with my partner. We had a report of a missing person and were sent here to get a statement straight away. It helps when your husband’s in the government,’ she added.

  ‘Who’s the missing person?’

  ‘Her sister, Erna Dan. You know, the hairdresser?’

  ‘OK, give me the gist of it.’

  ‘The call was an hour ago. It seems her sister hasn’t been seen since Friday night.’

  ‘But it’s only Tuesday now. We’re not talking about a child here.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, and it’s not as if the sister doesn’t have a history of vanishing for a few days now and again. I checked our system and she’s on that as well.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Drunk and disorderly, mostly. A few fights, just handbag waving, really. Always booze-related.’

  ‘Married? Kids?’

  ‘Two kids, separated. One child’s father lives in Grafarvogur, the other’s is in the US. Both kids with their fathers at the moment, due back to be with their mother in two weeks.’

  ‘And Sigurjóna?’ Gunna asked. ‘What’s her theory? Does she have a basis for believing her sister to be missing?’

  ‘So it seems. Says she went off with some foreign guy called Hardy and hasn’t been seen since, and now she’s not answering her mobile.’

  ‘Checked anywhere else?’

  ‘No answer at her home either.’

  ‘Ah. In that case I’d better have a word with the lady.’

  ‘Do you have an angle on this?’ Edda Sif asked curiously.

  ‘Bloody right. It’s Hårde I’m after.’

  Sigurjóna’s tearful presence occupied the whole of the expensively furnished room. She sat on a leather sofa overshadowed by a huge abstract painting in blocks of primary colours, sniffing as a young policeman probed with gentle questions.

  Gunna marched in and looked Sigurjóna directly in the face. She stared back with hostility in her eyes.

  ‘You? What are you doing here?’ she asked as anger and some colour began to seep back into her face, carefully made up in spite of her tearful demeanour. A tiny rivulet of mascara had begun to flow southwards from the corner of one eye.

  ‘Olli, isn’t it?’ Gunna asked the young policeman, perched with an open notebook on a corner of a deep armchair. The young man nodded.

  ‘All right. Leave me with this lady for ten minutes, would you? There must be a kitchen here somewhere, and I’m sure Sigurjóna won’t mind if you put some coffee on.’

  At a loss at Gunna’s unexpected appearance, Sigurjóna nodded mutely.

  Gunna perched on the edge of the deep chair that Olli had vacated to search for the kitchen.

  ‘Where the hell is Hårde?’ she demanded.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Sigurjóna wailed and dabbed at her eye with a tissue.

  ‘All right. Tell me what’s happened. Quickly, please.’

  ‘I don’t know. Erna was with us all at the awards party —’

  ‘Hårde as well?’

  Sigurjóna nodded.

  ‘How come he was there at a party for PR people?’

  ‘I invited him,’ Sigurjóna admitted and hesitated.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘He was dancing with Erna and they disappeared about the same time. Quite early. I think they may have gone home together.’

  ‘To Erna’s home?’

  ‘I expect so.’

  ‘Have you been there? Called her?’

  ‘I’ve tried to call, but just get her voicemail and she doesn’t call back.’

  Gunna watched Sigurjóna carefully. As far as she could make out, the woman’s concern for her sister was genuine. ‘Where does she live?’

  ‘Skólagata twelve.’

  ‘Where’s that?’

  ‘Kópavogur. Up the hill from Smárinn.’

  ‘Olli!’ Gunna called and the young man came in from the kitchen with the aroma of coffee behind him.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Get on the radio. I want a squad car at Skólagata twelve in Kópavogur in five minutes flat. Tell them to check the place out quietly. Don’t knock, don’t be too obvious, don’t approach any men who might be on the property. I’ll be there in a minute, all right?’

  Olli ducked back and they could hear him talking in the other room as his set buzzed.

  ‘Sigurj
óna, I have every reason to believe that you have been rather economical with the truth so far. I believe that this man you think your sister has disappeared with is an extremely dangerous character. I believe he’s responsible for at least two murders here in Iceland and probably more elsewhere. Now, where’s he been living?’

  ‘It’s a guesthouse in Mjósundsvegur. Can’t remember the number. Right at the end near the old church.’

  ‘Do you have any phone numbers for this guy?’

  Sigurjóna picked a mobile phone up from the black glass coffee table in front of her where Olli had just placed a mug of black coffee for Gunna.

  ‘They’re on their way,’ he reported quietly while Sigurjóna scrolled through her phone’s stored numbers.

  Gunna nodded at him without her eyes leaving Sigurjóna.

  ‘Here it is,’ she said quietly, holding out the phone.

  ‘Write the number down, Olli. Get on to the phone company and find out every bit of information you possibly can, and whether it’s switched on, and if possible where it is. Bully them if you have to. This is on the National Commissioner’s authority if they quibble,’ she instructed as Olli retreated.

  ‘Sigurjóna, now. Your sister. Tell me about her. Has she done anything like this before?’

  ‘Plenty of times. She’s hopeless with guys. She finds one she likes and she’s like a little puppy and can’t keep her hands off him. Then after a week or two there’s a row and she hits the bottle. It’s happened time and again, and she always ends up here crying on my shoulder. I’ve always been able to reach her and she tells me everything. But this time I can’t get hold of her at all. It’s just not like her.’

  ‘When did you last speak to Hårde?’

  ‘Saturday.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Right after you left the Gullfoss. I told him you were looking for him.’

  ‘You told him? Bloody hell,’ Gunna exploded and quickly contained her anger. ‘What else did you tell this psycho?’

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘So, what then?’

  ‘That you’re in charge of the investigation,’ Sigurjóna said.

  In disbelief, Gunna sat back and thought in silence, ignoring the buzzing of the phone in her top pocket. She stood up suddenly, decision made, pulling the phone from her pocket to see who had called.