Fox Goes Hunting

by Paty Jager

  “If you were with Nonni and his friends, the people at the bars didn’t pay attention to your age.”

  “And Bragi slept with her?” Hawke had figured that out from the first mention of Wanza.

  “She told everyone, but me, she was twenty. I did not say anything. I did not think it would hurt. And being with all of us brought her out of the dark place she was in.”

  Hawke wondered if the girl had slipped back into the darkness after three months and that was why she’d stopped emailing or contacting anyone from here.

  His phone buzzed. Böðvarsson.

  A knock at the door meant his coffee was here. While the father and daughter gathered the tray, cups, tea and coffee pots from the bellboy, Hawke walked across the room to stand by the window and talk to the detective.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “We should have made the computer a priority,” Böðvarsson said when Hawke answered the phone.

  “Yeah. After seeing the note about meeting Billy at a remote setting, I wondered about the time of death. Any chance Forensics is off?”

  “I’m sure they would be the first to say, with a body that falls in a boiling mud pool the time could be off. Do you think Billy is the one in the videos wearing the coat?”

  “If he’s been here for a week, he would have had time to check out the surveillance cameras. You’ll need to have the techs go through the tapes from the time Billy arrived until Wednesday to see if he’s seen in the Marina Hotel, my hotel, and looking around Harpa.”

  “Why did you bring up Wanza Odeyna?” Böðvarsson asked.

  “Because she keeps coming up. Nonni’s friends, Riku Tanaka, and Nonni had all kept in contact with her until she stopped emailing three months after she went home. They say she was in a bad place when she came here, but became happy while here and was working with Nonni on coming here to go to school. Remember our theory is revenge?”

  He had a feeling something happened to Wanza while she was in Iceland. And the only person she was emailing was Nonni, making him the target for revenge. But by who and why?

  “I see what you are thinking. I will step up our hunt for Wanza and her mother. And we should have kilometers determined on the car Billy borrowed on Wednesday to determine if he drove to Krýsuvík which would mean that Kevin’s rental may have been borrowed by someone other than the murderer. Good night.”

  Hawke didn’t buy that. Why was the key stolen and returned so skillfully to avoid being seen? He had to agree with Billy borrowing from Ásta #2, it would have been quicker and easier for him to meet up with Nonni, kill him, and pick up Ásta #1 for his alibi. So why did his gut tell him the person who borrowed Largess’s car was the killer? But his head was saying Billy was the killer?

  “You are through with call?” Mr. Tanaka asked, standing at the table laid out with tea, coffee, and cookies.

  “Yes.” He smiled at the father and daughter and returned to his seat in front of the laptop. He closed the computer and picked up the cup of coffee. “Thanks.”

  “Did Nonni ever talk to you about Billy Weston?” Hawke asked.

  Riku stared into her cup. “Only that he was angry Billy and his father were trying to make money off their incomp-incompay-”

  “Incompetence.”

  “Yes, that is the word. He did not like that they could ruin his father and the conference.”

  “Did Nonni say what he planned to do about it?” Hawke sipped his coffee and watched the father and daughter exchange a glance.

  Mr. Tanaka cleared his throat. “He planned to offer them money and pay the lawyer fees the Westons had acquired.”

  Hawke studied the man. “Do they have that kind of money? Nonni and Einar?”

  “I do not know. I had offered to help out,” Mr. Tanaka shrugged. “Nonni said it was not necessary.”

  “If Nonni and his father were willing to pay, there wasn’t any reason for Billy to kill Nonni. Unless he wanted revenge more than the money.” He was thinking out loud. It was something he did all the time because he was usually in the woods with his horses and dog or alone in his truck or his apartment.

  “You think Nonni was killed for revenge?” Riku asked.

  Hawke shook himself and studied the young woman. He should have kept his thought in his head. Worry wrinkled her brow and drew the corners of her lips down.

  “I can’t come up with any other reason. On the surface, there is no reason anyone would want to kill him. He was good to people, made them feel good, and cared about doing what was right.” He stopped and held up a finger. “Except he was meeting in secret with Billy to talk over a money deal when he could have gone through the attorney...”

  Hawke picked up his phone and texted Böðvarsson. Find out who the lawyer was working for Westons on the defamation case.

  “You think the attorney learned of the meeting and planned to stop it so he could keep getting money?” Mr. Tanaka asked.

  “It’s as plausible as anything else we’ve come up with.”

  Riku yawned.

  “It’s late. I’ll let you two get some sleep.” He packed up the laptop and walked to the door.

  “And you? Will you get sleep tonight?” Riku asked.

  Hawke shook his head. “I won’t sleep until we have Nonni’s killer. There isn’t enough time before you all head home.”

  “But if it is the lawyer...?”

  “Then I won’t care if it takes a bit longer. Right now, we don’t know for sure.” He didn’t dare tell them about the rental car keys and the taxi driver’s trip to take whoever borrowed it to pick it up.

  He stepped out into the hall, shouldered his pack, and headed for the elevator. It was eleven. He could grab a drink in the bar and hope it helped him sleep a couple of hours or he could go back to his room and go over the file one more time.

  In the lobby, he glanced toward the bar and restaurant and then stepped out into the dark drizzling night. They had to get this figured out by tomorrow night. Monday morning, the conference participants would be headed home.

  <<>><<>><<>>

  Buzzing by his ear woke Hawke. He raised his head up off the open file on the table in his hotel room and stared at his cell phone. Dani.

  “Hello?” he answered with a voice that sounded like he’d been battling a fire for three days.

  “Wow! Rough night partying?” Dani asked, her voice full of humor.

  “Not partying. Fell asleep rereading my notes on the homicide.” He ran a hand through his hair and smacked his mouth, trying to add more moisture.

  “You haven’t figured it out? You don’t have much time left.”

  “I know. That’s why I was up most of the night trying to make sense of what we know already.” He walked over to the sink and ran the water. When it was cold, he filled a cup and drank.

  “Didn’t mean to stir up a sore subject. Just checking in to make sure the weather conditions hadn’t changed since we last talked. I want to make sure I have proper clothing while I’m there.”

  “It’s still cold, windy, and a mixture of rain and sleet depending on where you are.” Which reminded him of the person in the fur trimmed hooded coat. The person who had to be the killer. But who were they?

  “I’ll be busy today and maybe tomorrow when you get here. Can you take the bus from the airport? If you catch the right one, you’ll be dropped off right in front of the Harpa where the conference being held. The hotel where we’re staying is across the street.”

  “I’m a big girl. I know you’ll be occupied with your homicide. Don’t worry about me. I tagged myself onto your trip.”

  A smile relieved the tension in his face. That’s one of the reasons he liked this woman. She understood duty. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Can’t wait.” Dani ended the conversation and his phone buzzed.

  Böðvarsson. Apparently, the detective hadn’t slept much either.

  “Hawke,” he answered.

  “Have you been up all night? You answered the phone quic
kly.” Böðvarsson sounded more awake than Hawke felt.

  “A good portion. A friend called.” He didn’t elaborate. No one needed to know he had a woman joining him.

  “I discovered the lawyer. I called and have a breakfast meeting with him. Care to join me?”

  “Yes, I would. What time?” Hawke glanced down at his wrinkled clothes from yesterday.

  “I’ll be by in thirty minutes to pick you up.” Böðvarsson ended the call.

  Hawke tossed his phone on the bed and walked into the bathroom. A quick shower and shave and he’d be ready to meet the lawyer.

  <<>><<>><<>>

  Hawke shook hands with the man Böðvarsson introduced as the lawyer for the Westons. On the way to the restaurant, the detective had suggested Hawke take the lead on the questioning, since he knew more about what had been about to transpire than he did.

  “You are American?” Egilsson asked.

  “Yes. I’m with the Oregon State Police.” Hawke set his badge on the table at the man’s elbow.

  “Why are you working with our police?” The lawyer glanced at Böðvarsson.

  “I found Jón Einarsson’s body.” He studied the short, round man as he seemed to be sizing up what had been said. “You did know that Einar Liefsson’s son, Nonni, had been killed? It’s been all over the news.”

  The man inhaled, “Yes, of course. I didn’t realize that you were included in the investigation. There hasn’t been any mention of you.” Egilsson gave Böðvarsson a piercing glare.

  Hawke had no idea why it would be a problem that he was helping with the investigation and it hadn’t been broadcasted over the television.

  “Did you know that Billy and Nonni were meeting to come to an agreement to settle the defamation suit?” Hawke wasn’t going to give this man time to fancy talk his way out of anything.

  “I know that Billy is here, in Reykjavik. He and I met when he first arrived. He brought more instructions from his father.” He’d danced around the fact the two young men had been working outside of his supervision.

  “So, you didn’t know that Einar and Nonni were planning to settle outside of court?” Hawke persisted.

  The man stared at him a glower pasted on his face.

  “You did know. Was that what Billy was talking to you about?” Hawke pulled out Nonni’s laptop and opened it up to the email between he and Billy setting up a meet on Wednesday. “This was the email where they set up the meeting to talk about settling outside of court.”

  Egilsson studied the email. “That’s Nonni’s computer.”

  “Yes. It was given to us by his parents to help us find out who killed him.” Hawke peered into the round face of the lawyer. “Did you know about this meeting? If so, what did you tell Billy?”

  The lawyer picked up his coffee cup, sipped, and set it back down. Stalling. “I knew the young men were going to meet. I did not know what they were planning to discuss, other than Billy said Nonni was desperate to save his father and the conference. I gave him a figure that I felt could be raised that would cover my fees and be a good settlement for the Westons.”

  “Did Billy get back to you on what Nonni said?” Hawke wondered if Billy had killed Nonni then came back and told the lawyer that Nonni and his father refused to pay that much?

  “He did tell me that we’d have to deal with the father. The son wasn’t rational.” Egilsson picked up his coffee cup.

  “Was that Wednesday afternoon?” Böðvarsson asked this question.

  The lawyer put his coffee cup down and nodded his head.

  Böðvarsson stood, pulled his phone out of a pocket, and strode away from the table.

  “Did you wonder if Billy had killed Nonni when you heard he was found dead Wednesday afternoon?” Hawke watched the man for any sign of discomfort.

  “I, like many others, had been led to believe it was a random act of violence.”

  Hawke pressed his back against the chair and stared at the man. How he wished he could sweep a death under the rug so easily. He stood and followed Böðvarsson out of the restaurant. With what the lawyer said, it meant that Billy had met Nonni on Wednesday. Now to pull him in to see if he’d spill about killing Nonni, and to find the proof he was at Krýsuvík during the time of death.

  Chapter Twenty

  Mid-morning Sunday, Hawke sat in the interview room with Böðvarsson, Billy Weston, and his lawyer, Egilsson. The young man had lawyered up as soon as he’d arrived at the station, even though they’d told him they just wanted to clarify his statement from the other day.

  Billy grinned and Egilsson scowled. Neither one answering a single question Böðvarsson asked.

  A knock on the door broke the awkward silence. An officer brought in a piece of paper, handing it to the detective.

  Böðvarsson grinned. “We have added up the kilometers on the car you borrowed from the redheaded Ásta and it seems there are just enough kilometers unaccounted for to have taken you to Krýsuvík and back.”

  Hawke wanted to yell hallelujah. How would Weston talk himself out of this?

  “I don’t understand? How can you figure out the kilometers? I borrowed a car.” Weston stared at one then the other of them. “You made this up to make it look like I did it.”

  “No, we contacted the garage that maintains Ásta’s car and received the miles it had on the odometer two weeks ago. Then we asked Ásta for an accounting of where she had driven since then and added the miles you said you drove and there is a difference that matches you meeting Nonni at Krýsuvík on Wednesday.”

  Weston shook his head.

  Egilsson touched Weston’s arm and leaned to whisper in his ear. They conversed a minute and the lawyer opened his hands.

  “My client will tell you what he does know. He did drive out to Krýsuvík to meet Nonni, but he didn’t see him. He did see the police cars and a bus leaving the parking lot where he was to meet Nonni at three.”

  Hawke stared at Weston. “I took down all the license plates of the vehicles in the parking lot right after the bus left.”

  Böðvarsson stood. “Remain here while we check to see if Ásta’s license was one of them.”

  Out in the hall Bodvarrson turned to Hawke. “If you did write down that license, we can’t hold him. He couldn’t have been there at the time of the death and the car still there when he says he was there at three.”

  Hawke nodded. “Damn! I thought we had the killer.”

  They walked into Böðvarsson’s office and checked the car plates. One of the numbers matched that of the red headed Ásta’s car.

  Hawke cursed and the detective picked up a folder on his desk. He handed the folder to Hawke.

  Wanza Odeyna, daughter of Mari Odeyna, died in 2019. Her mother died of suicide a month later. Hawke stared at Böðvarsson. “Can you get more information on this? Riku and Nonni’s friends said Wanza was in a bad place when she arrived. Can you find out if Wanza took her life, and if both she and her mother suffered from mental illness?”

  “How can this have anything to do with our homicide?” Böðvarsson took the sheet of paper and slipped it into the growing one on Nonni’s death.

  “I don’t know, but her name keeps coming up.” Mari? Where had he heard that name before?

  “I’ll go let Billy loose.”

  The second the door closed, Hawke pulled out his notes and scanned the ones he’d taken from the people who were on the bus that day. Kanika said she sat next to Mari on her way out to Krýsuvík.

  He dug through his papers to find the one with the list of people who took his class. There wasn’t a Mari signed up for it.

  How could she have sat next to Mari if there wasn’t one? And what was her connection to the woman and her daughter?

  When Böðvarsson returned, Hawke told him about his discovery. “Can you find out her connection to the Odeynas?”

  “We can bring her in and question her.” Böðvarsson said.

  “We need some kind of proof to get a warrant to search her room
. If we can find that coat in her possession, I’d feel a whole lot better about bringing her in.” Hawke studied the forensic report. “Have they come up with anything else in forensics?”

  “Halla sent me another report this morning. I haven’t had time to look at it.” Böðvarsson pulled a paper out of his file on the case. “They recovered fibers from a rock that also had Nonni’s hair and blood on it. They are wool fibers from the sheep in our country.”

  “Which means either an Icelander or someone who purchased a pair of gloves killed him.” Hawke stared at the papers in front of him. Anyone who came to the conference could have purchased a pair of gloves. “We have to find the coat in her possession.”

  “We cannot look for a coat without a warrant, and we cannot get a warrant without probable cause.” Böðvarsson tossed the file on his desk. “It is Sunday. A day I don’t work. I am going home, enjoying my family, and will decide what to do about the homicide tomorrow morning. I suggest you take the day to relax as well.”

  Hawke stood. He knew when he was being kicked out. But he wasn’t going to relax. He was going to hang out at the last day of the conference and find a way to start up a conversation with Kanika. This was a long shot. All the other possibilities had been crossed off his suspect list.

  He called a taxi and asked to be dropped off at the Harpa. It was Sunday afternoon. Only a few classes were still going. Hawke climbed the stairs and went straight to the base of operations room. Einar wasn’t present but the tech woman, Dóra, sat in front of the computer.

  “Hello. Have you gone to any of the classes you signed up for?” she asked.

  “No. I’ve been busy. Can you tell me if Kanika,” he pulled out the list from the people who attended his class and read, “Tumaini, is still here? I remember we marked how long we were staying after the conference. And could you tell me if she is going on the Snow Jeep tour tomorrow?”

  The woman studied him before she started tapping on the keyboard. “You have come in and asked about several people. Are they all suspects in Nonni’s death?”

  He didn’t say anything. The less she or anyone else knew, the better.