by Paty Jager
“Here she is. Kanika is leaving on a plane tomorrow afternoon. She is signed up for the three o’clock class in the Ríma Room.” She pointed down. “On the first floor.”
“Thank you.” He started to leave and had a thought. “Any chance you know if she’s rooming with anyone and who it might be?”
Dóra typed some more and wrote on a piece of paper. “This is who we have down but that doesn’t mean things haven’t changed since they registered.”
“Thank you.” Hawke plucked the paper from her and stared at the name. Rowena Albright. There wasn’t a room number, but he knew it was the second floor and could ask at the desk for Rowena and not make Kanika suspicious.
Hawke walked down to the first floor and found a place to wait for the class to get over. He put Rowena’s name into the search app on his phone. There were several. He picked the first one from England. She was Caucasian. Carmilla had called her a black woman when he’d asked about the women in Largess’s room on Tuesday night. He clicked out of that one and clicked the next one in England. It was a black woman. She had a nice smile. Her husband was Caucasian. He was a doctor with an English title. Hawke wondered how he felt about his wife working in... He read some more. She wasn’t in law enforcement. She was in the medical field and worked with the British SAR. She was from Machakos, Kenya. Her husband had been working with Doctors Across Borders when they met.
Hawke stopped reading. What had Bragi said? Wanza was from something Macha. He continued reading. Rowena’s maiden name was Mwinga.
He flipped through the papers in his folder. He didn’t have the information about Wanza and her mother. Pulling out his phone, Hawke texted Böðvarsson. What are Mari Odeyna and Kanika Tumaini’s maiden names?
People started filing out of the Ríma room. Hawke shoved his papers and file back into his pack and stood. There had been a photo of Rowena from several years earlier on the information he’d brought up on his phone. He saw her before he noticed Kanika walking beside her. Kanika wore a polo shirt, khaki slacks, and running shoes. Rowena had dress slacks, a button-up shirt, and shoes his mom called Mary Janes. He’d never been able to figure out why. They were a fancy looking shoe with a flat heel and strap across the top of the foot.
He fell into step behind them. They were talking in a language he figured had to be Kenyan. It wasn’t Icelandic or English. When the main group headed for the stairs or elevator, the two he was interested in headed for the outside doors.
Once they were all three outside, Hawke spoke. “Evening.”
They both flinched, but turned in unison and smiled.
“Hawke. Where have you been? We have barely seen you since Wednesday,” Kanika said.
“I’ve been trying to find Nonni’s killer.” He studied them both. Neither one seemed upset with what he blurted out. “Who is your friend?”
“Oh, you haven’t met Rowena?” Kanika flicked a hand toward the other woman. “This is my roommate for the conference. Rowena Albright from London.”
Hawke held out a hand.
The woman shook hands and smiled. “And you, Mr. Hawke, where are you from?”
“Oregon, in the United States. And it’s just Hawke.” He motioned the direction of the Marina Hotel. “Shall we continue to the hotel?”
They glanced at one another, pulled their coats closer around their necks and started walking.
“What class did you find the most useful at the conference?” he asked by way of starting up a conversation they were less likely to run away from.
“Because I’m more on the medical side of SAR, I enjoyed the one about what medical supplies each member should carry and how to keep the supplies up to date,” Rowena said.
“And you?” Hawke asked.
Kanika glanced at him then ahead as they continued walking. “I would have said your class if it hadn’t ended the way it did. I would have to say the base of operations workshop was what I needed to learn more about.”
As she talked, Hawke heard inflections that might be mistaken as British. His heart hammered in his chest. Had he discovered Nonni’s killer finally? Rowena had a distinctive British accent. Either woman had a husky voice that could sound male if they tried.
All of this was just circumstantial. He had to find proof.
“Are you going on the Super Jeep tour tomorrow?” he asked.
Kanika nodded. “Rowena talked me into staying to go. I will never get to Iceland again. I want to see as much of it as I can.”
“Are you staying the rest of the week?” Hawke asked, feeling as if a weight had been lifted if she would be around longer.
“No, I leave first thing Tuesday morning. I cannot afford to be away from work any longer than that.”
That only gave him one more day to discover if she killed Nonni. “Since you suggested
Kanika attend the Super Jeep tour, I take it you are going?” he asked Rowena.
“Yes. Like Kanika, this may be the only time I’m here and I want to see as much of it as I can. My husband is flying in Tuesday, and we’re going to vacation for a week.” She shook her head. “But he usually wants to see things that are inside. I like seeing nature. Are you going on the tour?”
“I haven’t decided. I have a friend flying in tomorrow.”
At the hotel the women went straight to the elevator.
It would be awkward if he followed them into the elevator and to their door. And they didn’t seem interested in inviting him up to continue the conversation. He stopped at the registration desk and waved. “Have safe trips home.”
When the elevator doors closed, Hawke took up a seat in the lobby where he could see who came out of the elevators before they saw him.
Chapter Twenty-one
“What are you doing here?” Sigga’s voice jolted Hawke from the space in his head where he was tracking all the information on the case.
He glanced up and found her standing three feet from him. He’d been so intent on his thoughts and staring at the elevator that he’d allowed her to sneak up on him.
“Waiting.” His phone buzzed. Böðvarsson. He motioned for the woman to sit in the chair beside his while he answered the phone.
“Hawke.”
“I told you to relax for the rest of the day,” the detective said.
“I can’t. What can you tell me?”
“You do know who Rowena Albright’s husband is, don’t you?” He’d not heard apprehension in Böðvarsson’s voice before.
“No. Who is Mr., or should I say, Dr. Albright?”
Sigga snorted and shook her head.
Hawke frowned. “Who is he then?”
“Only one of the top Doctors in England and a relative to the royals.”
“I didn’t ask for his background or his wife’s. I asked about Mari Odeyna and Kanika Tumaini.” Hawke had never played favorites with anyone.
“Mari Odeyna was cousins with Rowena Albright. As for Kanika, so far we haven’t pulled up any connection between her and Mari.”
Hawke stared at the elevators. It would be even harder to get the information if their killer was Rowena.
“Good thing we didn’t drag Kanika in here, now isn’t it?” Böðvarsson said.
Tugging the stocking cap from his head, Hawke gave his scalp a good scratch while he thought. “They’re both going on the Super Jeep tour to the glacier tomorrow. I’ve just decided to go.” He ended the conversation and turned his attention to Sigga, who had been listening to every word.
“Why did you want to know about a Mari Odeyna and Kanika? And what did it have to do with the Albrights?” Sigga leaned closer. “You don’t think they had anything to do with Nonni, do you?”
Hawke stood. While he was ninety percent sure Sigga had nothing to do with Nonni’s death, he shouldn’t tell her what he suspected.
But she was on the same hallway as the two women he wanted to keep eyes on. “Invite me up to your room.”
She smiled. “Is this a business or pleasure invite?”
Her smile remained bright. “Does this mean you believe I didn’t kill Nonni?”
He just smiled and led her to the elevators.
They didn’t say anything until they were in her room.
“Do you know which room is Rowena and Kanika’s?” Hawke asked.
“Three down on the left. Are you going to use my room for surveillance?” Sigga opened a bottle of water. “I have a date tonight with Kevin. I don’t care if you stay here while I’m gone, but if you need my help, I can cancel.”
“I need to get into their room.”
Sigga stared at him. “They didn’t use a weapon that you can find.”
“I’m not looking for a weapon. I’m looking for clothing. The ones we saw the person wearing when they hailed a cab, left the message about you and men and the keys to Largess’s rental car.” Hawke paced to the window and back again. “Even if I find the clothes, we have to come up with something to get a warrant to legally find the clothing.”
His mind latched onto something else. “Why is Mrs. Albright rooming with someone? Wouldn’t someone with her money and status stay in a suite or something?”
“If I was married to Dr. Albright, I’d be staying in the hotel suite, that’s for sure. In fact, I wouldn’t even be here.” Sigga sat on the bed, crossing her legs and sipping the bottle of water.
“Exactly. Why is she here, unless it is for revenge?”
“I don’t understand? What are you talking about revenge?”
Hawke relayed what they had discovered about Wanza and Mari Odeyna.
“That’s horrible! You think, what? That Wanza hit another downward spiral of depression, killed herself, and then her mother couldn’t take it and killed herself?” Sigga stared at him with disbelief on her face.
“It’s the only thing I can think of. Nonni had no enemies other than Billy Weston and his father. Billy is here, but he has alibis for the time of death. He was planning to meet Nonni to talk about a settlement, but Nonni was killed before they met.” Hawke walked to the door and peeked out. There was movement down the hall in the direction Sigga had said the women were staying.
They passed by the door. One of them was wearing the fur-lined hooded parka. It was Rowena Albright.
He closed the door. “Follow them and see where they go?”
Sigga picked up her coat and purse and hurried out the door. “I’ll cancel Kevin.”
Hawke waited until he was sure the three women were on the ground floor and he took the elevator to the lobby. He texted Böðvarsson. Rowena Albright is wearing a coat that matches the one in the surveillance tapes.
Before he set foot out the door, his phone rang.
“I told you not to bother Rowena.” A hint of worry fluttered the detective’s words.
“I’m only interested in discovering the truth. Sigga is following them. When I know where they are, I’ll mosey there and start up a conversation and see if she clams up.”
“I don’t want to deal with my commissioner because you said something offensive to Rowena.”
“I won’t. I’ll only bring up Wanza.” Hawke’s phone made a noise.
Sigga texted. They are at Fish Company restaurant. She added a marker on a map for him to follow.
Thanks.
“Hawke? Hawke?” Böðvarsson drew him back to the conversation.
“I’m here. Sigga says they are at Fish Company. I’ll join her and maybe we can start up a conversation.” He disconnected and headed out the door, following the navigation app on his phone. The place appeared old, but nicely kept up. The main entrance was under a bridge. He discovered Sigga sitting inside the door.
“I cancelled Kevin and asked for a table close to Rowena and Kanika.” She stood, spoke Icelandic to the hostess, and they were seated at a table next to the women he was interested in.
Kanika glanced up as they were being seated. She frowned and said something in Kenyan to Rowena. The other woman glanced their direction, smiled, and said something back.
“I hope they think we’re here on a date.” Sigga leaned across the table toward him. “Maybe you should order a bottle of wine to make it look like we aren’t working.”
Hawke didn’t want to have a date with the Icelandic Chief Inspector, but he could tell Kanika was already suspicious of him showing up here and sitting next to them.
He waved the waiter over and suggested Sigga pick a wine. After the wine was served and they approved, well, Sigga approved of it, Hawke picked up the menu. Luckily it was written in English. He glanced over at Sigga’s and noted it was written in Icelandic.
Hawke ordered a main course of fish and settled back, trying to look at ease when he wished he could understand what the two at the other table were talking about.
Sigga sipped the wine and asked, “Have you and Böðvarsson discovered any reason someone would want to kill Einar’s son?”
He started to glare at her, but noticed the women at the table next to them had stopped conversing.
“We’re running out of suspects. The two we thought were possibilities, have airtight alibis.” He picked up his wine and sipped. It wasn’t bad. Not as bitter as he remembered wine being. Though he would have preferred a beer, having wine would keep him from drinking too much.
“Where does that leave you?” Sigga leaned back as her food arrived. The plate was piled with food.
Hawke had been afraid with the atmosphere, which was elegant as well as cozy, that the food would be skimpy while the price was high. His plate was placed in front of him and he was glad the two next to them had picked this restaurant for dinner.
“We believe it has to be connected to the conference, why else would the killer have struck now.” He was pleased to see the fish was done but not dry. Just the way he liked it. The bite made him groan with delight. The flavor of fish and the sauce on it, were a perfect pairing.
Sigga smiled at him. “I told you the food here was excellent.”
He grinned. The policewoman was good at surveillance. Quick to say things that sounded natural. “You were right. I’m glad you dragged me here.”
“If you believe the homicide is connected to the conference, shouldn’t you look at people angry with Einar?” Sigga picked up her wine glass.
“We are. Again, those haven’t panned out any better than the ones who had a problem with Nonni.” He ate a couple more bites, listening to see if the two women had started chatting. Their food was about finished. They shoved their plates to the side. Their bottle of wine was still half full. Hopefully, they would stick around and finish it off. Hawke didn’t want to walk away from this tasty food.
“But you talked to Nonni’s friends. What did they have to say?” Sigga asked, slipping a bite of her lamb dish into her mouth.
“They can’t think of anything, though we did find he’d corresponded with a Wanza Odeyna for several months after she was here with her mother two years ago.” An intake of breath from the other table let him know they were listening. He took a bite.
“Were they lovers?” Sigga asked.
“I don’t think so. They were discussing Wanza coming here to go to college. He sent her applications for the school and a visa.” He waited, but no one from the other table jumped in. Hawke cast a glance that direction. Rowena was listening intently. Kanika was sipping wine.
“What happened?” Sigga asked, now leaning in, as if the story was the most fascinating thing she’d ever heard.
“We discovered Wanza died and then a month later so did her mother.” Hawke shrugged. “We are uncertain if they both contracted a disease or if something else killed them.”
“What would that have to do with Nonni?” Sigga asked, sitting back in her chair.
“Nothing that we know of, but it’s the only other thing we can find that is unusual with Nonni’s life.” He sighed. “Wish we knew more about their deaths. Böðvarsson is working on that.”
The two next to them said something and stood as if to
leave.
“That’s a gorgeous coat,” Sigga said to Rowena. “Did you get it here?”
Rowena smiled. “No, I brought it with me from home. Have a good night.” She walked to the entrance of the restaurant without looking back. Kanika hurried to catch up.
“That didn’t get anything out of them.” Sigga clanked her fork down on the table.
Hawke grinned. “We learned that is Rowena’s coat, and they left when we talked about Wanza. You don’t always have to get the results you want to learn something new.” He dug into his food. “Eat up. I’m tired of waiting for someone to get back to us from Kenya. Let’s see if Dóra at the base of operations can use her computer skills to look up the obituaries on the mother and daughter.”
Sigga stared at him. “You think she can do that?”
“We won’t know until we ask.”
“It’s late, she might not even be there.” Sigga scooped the rest of her meal into her mouth as Hawke called Einar.
Chapter Twenty-two
Hawke and Sigga sat in the base of operations room for the conference at the Harpa while Dóra tapped on the keyboard and asked questions.
Using the information about Mari Odeyna from the conference two years earlier, they had enough to know where she lived and where she’d worked.
Dóra pulled up the newspapers in the area for three to five months after the conference.
“The deaths have to be the reason for the revenge on Nonni. Do you think her mother didn’t want Wanza to go to school in Iceland and that sent the girl into depression and she killed herself?” Sigga had been coming up with all kinds of reasons.
“We won’t know until we have the truth.” Hawke stood and walked over to the computer. “What are you finding?”
“Just the obit for the mother. Nothing on the girl. But it seems the mother took her life because of her sorrow over her daughter’s death.” She clicked more keys. “There weren’t any accidents involving the daughter. But it’s odd I can’t find anything about her death other than the mother’s obit.”
“If the daughter had mental issues, do you think the mother did and she killed the daughter?” Sigga said what Hawke was starting to wonder about.
