Part 14 (1/2)

'This guy I'm meeting, do you know anything about him? Anything you can tell me in advance?'

Gunna admired what she could see of the scenery with an hour or two before there would be any real daylight. Akureyri wasn't a place she was familiar with, other than for a few camping holidays with the scouts, which had involved much car sickness on long-distance buses before flying became affordable, although she had always thought of the town as a peaceful place.

'There's not much I can tell you,' Andres said, slowing down to drive through the town and down to the dock area where Haraldur Samuelsson had his office. 'He doesn't have a police record, not even a speeding ticket. From what I hear he's a decent character, runs a business importing forklift trucks and hydraulic equipment. There's a small workshop there as well and I suppose he employs half a dozen people. He does Lions Club, football club, all that kind of stuff. Never had to have any dealings with him at all. His wife's a teacher and my missus knows her slightly. Nice enough lady, she says. That's it. Nothing to tell, really.'

'Very odd,' Gunna said. 'Most people have something or other, even if it's only a parking fine.'

'Not this guy. Apparently the tax office put him through the wringer a year or two ago, and he came up out of that smelling of roses. That's unusual, not even a bit of black money.'

'Shame. Gives me not a lot to go on.'

'There is one thing, though,' Andres said, his face darkening.

'His son's a piece of trouble, not that he lives here any more, I'm pleased to say. Sammi's a long-term addict, been in and out of rehab half a dozen times, but never lasts more than a few weeks before he's back on something. He has convictions for theft, breaking and entering, all that sort of stuff. Nothing violent, just quick money stuff. I don't know what you're after, but maybe it could have some bearing on it?'

Gunna yawned. The 5 a.m. start after spending too long talking through things with Drifa was taking its toll already.

'I'm not sure. I'm pretty sure that Haraldur Samuelsson hasn't done anything himself, at least, nothing serious enough for me to pry into his comings and goings. But he was robbed not long ago by someone who seems to have stiffed him pretty badly and that's who I'm trying to track down.'

'He didn't report it?' Andres asked in surprise, drawing up outside an industrial unit.

'Quite the opposite. He's anxious not to have it looked into, but as the person who robbed him may also be a witness to something more serious, he'd better tell me what he knows. By the way, do you think Haraldur Samuelsson would have known Johannes Karlsson? He's from here, isn't he?'

'The dead trawler-owner? Green Joi? He was from Husavik. But I'd a.s.sume they'd have known each other.'

'Why Green Joi?'

'Years ago he had two trawlers that went to Poland for refits. While they were there, the s.h.i.+pyard workers stole so much of the green engine-room paint that the story goes you could tell which houses in Gdansk the s.h.i.+pyard guys lived in because the roofs were painted engine-room green. He still had enough left over to paint the roof of his office and store, as well as the engine rooms of both trawlers.'

'So, Green Joi,' Gunna chuckled as she opened the car door, eyeing the anonymous industrial unit with a modest 'HS ehf' in rust-red letters on its signboard.

'Give me a call when you're done here and I'll pick you up,' Andres said as she shut the door.

Haraldur Samuelsson was already sweating when Gunna rapped on the door and went in without waiting for an answer. He reminded her of the frightened reception she'd got at Hermann Finnsson's flat the day before; she hoped that Haraldur could be persuaded to be more forthcoming.

'G'day,' she offered, extending a hand that Haraldur took and shook firmly. She could see instantly that he was nervous as he sat at his desk and began fiddling with the cable that connected his iPhone to the socket. 'I appreciate your finding time on a Sunday.'

'Not a problem. The managing director seems to work seven days a week anyway. What can I do for you? I'm afraid I really don't have anything to tell you.'

Gunna sat opposite Haraldur and wondered how far she could push this man before he either cracked and told her everything he had ever done or else closed up and refused to say a word.

'Look, Haraldur. I know you stayed at the Harbourside Hotel and had an unfortunate experience there. I can understand that it's embarra.s.sing and that you don't want anyone to know, but I'll be entirely straight with you. This is a delicate and increasingly serious investigation in which your part is probably very small. I'm not even slightly interested in prosecuting you for whatever minor indiscretions you may have committed. Is that clear?'

Haraldur stared back at her in virtual disbelief. 'You mean . . . ?' He began, fumbling for the right words. 'Not a word to anyone?'

'More or less. Tell me the whole story.'

'And you really are from the police?'

'I am,' Gunna confirmed, laying her warrant card on the desk, with the two screen-grab printouts from Hotel Gullfoss next to them. 'Do either of these look familiar?'

She saw a tremor pa.s.s through Haraldur as his eyes opened wide at the sight of the pictures, and she knew immediately that she was on the right track. He slumped into his chair once the initial shock had pa.s.sed.

'That's her.'

'Sonja?'

'That's what she calls herself.'

'I've a fairly good idea what happened. You were tied up and then she disappeared with your wallet?' Gunna asked and Haraldur nodded.

'How come you were tied up?'

'Because I asked her to,' he said in a small voice that sounded incongruous coming from a man in a suit; his face was bright red.

'And was there a payment involved?'

'No. No money. I paid for the room, that's all.'

'So she ties you up, which I suppose had been arranged, and once you're unable to move, she takes your money and runs? Why didn't you shout?'

'Oh, G.o.d,' Haraldur moaned. 'There was a gag as well. It's a domination thing. There's a scene . . .' he said and his voice tailed off for a moment while he took a breath. 'A few of us like to experiment sometimes.'

'Pardon my asking, but your wife . . . ?'

His expression stiffened. 'A few years ago she liked to, er, experiment as well. After a while she stopped enjoying it, I suppose. I don't know. It's not something we talk about now.' He sighed and caught his breath. 'She's a teacher. It wouldn't do if . . . if someone were to recognize her, and Akureyri is a small town.'

'Does she know that you still take part in this kind of activity?'

'She suspects.'

'You make a habit of this?'

'It's rare. Once in a while if I have to go to Reykjavik. Not here. Like I said, it's a small town.'

'There's no ”scene” here?' Gunna asked.

Haraldur squirmed in his seat and Gunna reminded herself that humiliating the man, however easy that might be, was something to be avoided.

'There are people in Akureyri who are part of the scene, some of them much more extreme than the stuff Svava and I used to dabble in,' he finally admitted after an internal struggle. 'But it's difficult.'

'So this stuff gets taken out of town?'

'Exactly.'

'And how much did Sonja sting you for?'

'Just over a million.'

'A million? Good grief. How did she manage that?'