Sun on Fire

by Viktor Arnar Ingolfsson

  “Are you sure you don’t know who said that Anton had left? That could be really important.”

  Konrad shook his head. “I know it’s important, but I’m not sure that anybody did mention it. Maybe I just thought I’d seen him leave with David and Starkadur.”

  “And the security guards didn’t notice that one of the visitors was missing when you left?”

  “No, but there was a reason. Jón was making a ruckus—he’d lost his guest pass, and I had to vouch for him so he could get his passport back. Then he offended the cab driver, and the security guard had to handle things because Hulda and I had already gone in the second cab. The head of security told me all this yesterday.”

  “How did you know Anton?”

  “He’s been a political supporter of mine for thirty years, and he’s a good buddy. His roots were in my constituency, and he was a useful ward heeler back in the day. Then he started up this foreign business, after which he was just a contributor to party funds. I sometimes introduced him to potential customers. Our friendship helped his credibility.”

  “What was his business?”

  “He was very familiar with the Asian scene. Early on he started going there to check out various kinds of factories. He was particularly good at finding manufacturers who could deliver high-quality but cost-effective products. Lots of entrepreneurs have used his services as a go-between.”

  “Entrepreneurs?”

  “Yes—hardworking innovators with good ideas. They can use a guy with good connections and who knows the culture. At one point there was talk of making Anton Icelandic ambassador to East Asia, but the minister demurred on account of some gossip.”

  “Gossip?”

  “It’s not something that I can repeat.”

  “Did Anton have any family?”

  “He was unmarried, and had no children.”

  “Was he in this business by himself?”

  “Yes, but he had an assistant who traveled with him.”

  “So the assistant wasn’t with him here at the embassy on Sunday?”

  “No. Anton came on his own—after the reading, in fact.”

  “Have you heard from this assistant?”

  “Yes, he contacted us yesterday when Anton didn’t show up at their hotel. Arngrímur informed him of Anton’s death and took the guy’s information. The man also agreed to wait for our police to contact him at the hotel. Arngrímur has his name and cell phone number.”

  “Who knew that Anton would be visiting here?”

  “I have no idea. I only found out myself shortly before the reading, when he called to invite me out to dinner. He said he was in Berlin unexpectedly for one night and wanted to see me. I told him to come to the embassy, which he did.”

  “So the killer must have had some other way of finding out that Anton was expected at the embassy?”

  The ambassador hesitated. “Yes, if he actually did have that information in advance.”

  “He must have known it, since he brought his weapon with him. He couldn’t have found the knife here in the building, could he?”

  “No.” Konrad shook his head. “I understand it was some kind of hunting knife.”

  “Which one of your guests is most likely to carry a knife like that?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “You’re certain you didn’t keep such a knife in your office desk?”

  “Absolutely certain.”

  16:50

  Arngrímur, Gunnar, and Commissar Fischer met the German forensic team’s van outside the Felleshus. Arngrímur directed them to the basement parking lot’s entrance beneath the plaza, and opened it with a remote control. The van drove cautiously down the ramp, with the three of them following on foot. Arngrímur pointed out where the entrance to the Icelandic embassy was, at the far end of the basement. It was quicker to move the equipment this way than to carry it through the Felleshus and across the plaza. This was the same route taken when the body was removed from the crime scene twenty-four hours earlier.

  Fischer said, “I assume the security people will have all the entrance systems here professionally tested.”

  “I’ll look into that,” Arngrímur replied, opening the door to the embassy basement.

  Four forensic specialists clad in white coveralls had climbed out of the van and were fishing out bags of equipment. In the meantime, Fischer was writing something in a notebook. Finally he tore the page from the book and handed it to Gunnar. “For form’s sake, here are the names of these four colleagues of mine,” he said.

  Gunnar took the piece of paper and shook hands with the men. “Thank you for your help,” he said.

  They all took the elevator up to the fourth floor, where Anna was waiting for them, also dressed in white coveralls.

  “Hello,” she said, coughing.

  Gunnar heard the youngest German whisper to his buddy, “He brought his grandma with him.”

  Fischer evidently heard this, too, because he grabbed the guy’s arm and said quietly, “You better show these people some respect. They are your colleagues.”

  The young man blushed. “Sorry, sir,” he whispered.

  Gunnar introduced Anna to the team. “She will be overseeing your work and countersigning all samples. I’ll be available to do any necessary interpreting.”

  Tobias Fischer turned to Gunnar and said, “Well, it looks like I’m finished here for the day. Please contact me if you need my help.”

  He wrote a telephone number on a business card and gave it to Gunnar. “Here are all my details and also my personal cell phone number.”

  “Thanks very much for all your help,” Gunnar said.

  Fischer smiled. “Will you be doing anything here in Berlin other than working on this investigation?”

  “Um, I’m going to go to the zoo.”

  “The zoo? Any particular reason?”

  “I’ve never seen an elephant.”

  Fischer laughed. “I see. My daughter works at the aquarium there. I sometimes pick her up after work, so I happen to know that today is the last day of summer hours. It’s open till six thirty, so you may get there this evening, but you would only have time to see the elephant. Tomorrow, the zoo is open from nine to five thirty.”

  Gunnar looked at his watch and said, “Then I’ll wait until tomorrow. But tonight I’m going to treat myself to a good Wiener schnitzel. Is there anyplace you recommend?”

  “Good idea,” Fischer said. “The Mövenpick restaurant in the Europa Center does an excellent schnitzel. The place is very easy to find. There’s a great view from the window tables over the square and the Kurfürstendamm.”

  Gunnar escorted Fischer down to the embassy’s entrance lobby, where they parted.

  “Let me know when you’ve found the killer,” Fischer said as they shook hands.

  “Sure thing,” said Gunnar. He closed the door after Fischer and turned to Birkir, who was just coming down the stairs. It was time to compare notes on what they’d learned so far.

  17:10

  From Arngrímur, Birkir had gotten Anton’s traveling companion’s name and cell phone number, and after the briefing with Gunnar he called the number. The man answered instantly, and they set up a meeting. Birkir got the embassy driver to take him to the hotel where the guy was staying. It wasn’t far from the embassy, but in the heavy afternoon traffic the trip took ten minutes, with most of that time spent waiting at stoplights.

  Entering the lobby, Birkir called the number again and said, “This is Birkir Li Hinriksson. I’m at the hotel.”

  “I see you,” came the reply.

  A stocky, muscular man in his thirties got up from a sofa in the hotel bar and walked over.

  “You’re from the Icelandic detective division?” he asked, his deep voice betraying slight surprise. His head was clean-shaven, his features stern.

  “Yes, I am,” Birkir replied and introduced himself again.

  “Hi, I’m Búi Rútsson,” the other said, and looked searchingly at Birkir. �
�China?” he asked.

  “Vietnam,” Birkir replied.

  “But of Chinese origin?”

  “Probably.”

  “Aha.”

  Birkir asked, “Do you have a key to Anton’s room?”

  “Yeah, we got adjoining rooms. I’ve a key to the connecting door.”

  “Let’s go up, then. When we’re done here, I’ll take Anton’s luggage with me.”

  “OK.”

  Búi led the way to an elevator and pressed the button. On arrival at the fourth floor, they walked along a long corridor and stopped at one of the doors, which Búi opened with his key card. They entered a luxurious hotel room, where Búi opened the connecting door and led them through to another.

  “This is Anton’s room,” Búi said.

  An open suitcase containing clothing lay on the made-up bed. Next to it was a briefcase, also open, full of papers.

  Búi said, “I’ve already packed. I’m just about to leave, so I’m glad you’re going to deal with Anton’s belongings. That means I don’t have to take them with me.”

  Birkir gestured toward two armchairs next to a low table, and they sat down. Birkir fished his voice recorder out of a pocket and switched it on. “What was your connection to Anton Eiríksson?” he asked, after dictating the usual preliminaries into the machine.

  “I was an employee of his.”

  “What was your job?”

  “Bodyguard.”

  “Nothing else?”

  Búi hesitated before replying, “Taking responsibility for the security of a businessman who travels as widely as Anton is more than enough of a job for one person.”

  Birkir frowned. “No other tasks?”

  Búi shrugged. “Occasionally, if the hotel we were staying at had satisfactory security arrangements. Then, if Anton was busy, I would take his calls for him. Sometimes I booked flights and hotels. Dealt with hotel staff. Had clothes washed and dry-cleaned. Practical matters that need taking care of on long trips. Other than that, I was on twenty-four hour duty when he was on business trips.”

  “Did Anton consider himself to be in danger?”

  “He traveled widely and visited places that were not safe.”

  “Where is his home?”

  “In England. He rents a furnished apartment in London.”

  Búi took a business card from his pocket and handed it to Birkir. “Here. His company is registered at the same address.”

  Birkir got up and went over to the bed. He examined the briefcase’s contents. On a chain fastened to the bottom of the case was a key ring containing a number of keys.

  “Did he also have a home in Iceland?” Birkir asked.

  “I don’t think so. I never accompanied him to Iceland. He always gave me time off when he went there. I think he probably stayed in a hotel when he was in Reykjavík.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “I have an apartment in Spain where I go when I’m not working. I have a flight booked to Barcelona tomorrow. I’m probably looking at a long vacation.”

  “Do you have a key to Anton’s London apartment?”

  “Yes.”

  Birkir held out his hand. “I’m going to have to ask you to hand that key over to me.”

  Búi reached into his jacket pocket for his key ring. “I have some clothes and other personal belongings there, but I can get them later,” he said, detaching a key and handing it to Birkir.

  “When did you start working for Anton?” Birkir asked.

  “Three years ago.”

  “What did you do before that?”

  “I was in the Reykjavík police force for two years, and then I went to a bodyguard-training school in America. After that I worked for a firm that provides security personnel all over the world. Then Anton offered me a permanent position. It was an improvement over Iraq and Afghanistan.”

  “Do you know of anyone who might have wanted to harm Anton?”

  Búi shrugged. “He was a tricky devil and treated many people he had dealings with badly, but I didn’t think there was anyone who might tail him here to Berlin. Maybe that was a bad call.”

  “You said you were with him twenty-four hours a day when he was traveling. Why weren’t you with him Sunday evening?”

  Búi hesitated. He obviously found the question uncomfortable. “I sometimes get time off when Anton is visiting a secure house,” he said. “We assumed that the embassy was safe. That was obviously a mistake. Bad for my résumé.”

  “So what did you do on Sunday?”

  “I accompanied Anton to the embassy in a cab. I had the cab wait while I escorted him inside, and I left him at the front desk.”

  “What did you do after that?”

  “I visited a brothel.”

  Búi’s frankness surprised Birkir. “Can anyone verify that?” he asked.

  Búi grinned coldly. “I have no idea where I went. I just told the cab driver what I was looking for and he drove me someplace. When I had finished my business, I had the doorman call me a cab, and I went back to the hotel. Finding the place could be tough—I didn’t pay any attention to where we went.”

  “Who knew that Anton was planning to go to the embassy?”

  “Nobody knew. It was a spontaneous thing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We arrived in Berlin from Jakarta late Saturday night and planned to fly to Hamburg at two o’clock on Sunday. At eleven o’clock on Sunday morning we got a message that the Hamburg meeting had been called off. Anton asked me to cancel the flight, and then spent the next few hours fielding phone calls. Then he had the idea of inviting the ambassador out to dinner that evening. Konrad usually does whatever Anton wants, but he happened to be busy at the embassy and suggested that Anton go there. That was when Anton decided to go to the embassy, and we booked the taxi.”

  “So nobody knew that he was here in Berlin?”

  “I don’t think so. Anton was in the habit of keeping his travel plans secret. Sometimes even I didn’t know where we were going until we booked the flight.”

  “What did Anton plan to do on Monday?”

  “Fly to the next meeting. Paris or London, I think. Either he hadn’t decided or he didn’t tell me.”

  “Would Anton have gone with the ambassador to a restaurant alone?”

  “No, he would have called me and I would have escorted them. I keep my cell phone switched on even when I’m not on call. Some of the better restaurants here in the city are used to their guests being escorted by their bodyguards. They have places that are easy to monitor. The headwaiters are paid well for taking care of that.”

  “Do you pack a weapon on the job?”

  “That’s a professional secret, but I do have certain licenses.”

  “Does Anton have family in Iceland?”

  “No. His parents are dead, he has no siblings, and he had nothing good to say about his other relatives. He has a will made out.”

  “Will you inherit anything?”

  Búi grinned. “No. Anton made it perfectly clear to me that I wouldn’t get as much as a cent if he got killed. He said that I might become less focused on the job if I was expecting an inheritance.”

  “Was he right?”

  “Who knows?”

  “Do you know who benefits from Anton’s will?”

  Búi shrugged. “He mentioned once or twice that his assets were to go to Indonesian orphans.”

  “That was kind of him,” Birkir said warily.

  Búi gave a dull smile and said, “You could say that Anton was fond of children.”

  “We know Anton was a pedophile. Where did he buy access to juveniles?”

  Birkir asked this as though it was a natural progression from what had been said before, and for a moment Búi seemed to be about to answer, but then he suddenly froze.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You can answer this. The guy is dead. You have no more confidentiality obligations toward him.”

  Bú
i remained silent.

  “Maybe you’re one, too?” Birkir asked. “Do we need to look into that?”

  “I only buy adult women who know what they’re doing. That’s all I’m interested in. Prostitution is a legal profession here in Berlin.”

  “That may well be true. But do you think it’s possible that Anton’s compulsion has anything to do with how he died?”

  Búi shook his head. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about. This conversation is over.” He got up and went through to the other room, closing and locking the door.

  17:15

  Back in the Icelandic embassy, the focus was on the fourth floor—specifically the hallway, the washroom, and the ambassador’s office—and on the stairs down to the third floor, along with the elevator cab. The German CSI specialists went straight to work, dusting fingerprint powder on all surfaces that might have been touched—dark powder on light surfaces, light powder on dark surfaces. They photographed all the prints they found, and then lifted them with clear tape and stuck them to index cards. They checked all surfaces with a UV lamp to highlight any possible bloodstains. They methodically vacuumed all the floors and furniture to recover any loose material, using specialized filters they systematically filed away into labeled boxes.

  The ambassador had confirmed that all the guests had visited the top floor at some point during the evening. Their fingerprints wouldn’t prove or disprove anything specific, but it might be possible to use their location and appearance to piece together a chain of events. Most prints would, however, probably belong to embassy staff or other visitors, making it difficult to create an overall picture. But they wouldn’t get a second chance, so it was vital to be painstaking in this forensic investigation. They would figure out later whether the evidence they’d collected was of any use.