Part 27 (2/2)

'Yeah. But it's all right. There are no cops about here.'

'You know Johnny Depp's waiting for you in reception?' Helgi asked, and Gunna could hear the grin on his round face. 'Refuses to speak to anyone else.'

'Can't be,' Gunna retorted. 'I left him at home, exhausted and strapped to the bed.'

'Like that guy at the Gullfoss?'

Gunna shuddered at the thought. 'Nice idea, but I'm afraid not. Is there really someone for me in reception?'

'No, just wanted to see what you'd say. But I'm finished with Holmgeir, and he sang like a bird eventually.'

'Good. Explain, if you would be so kind.'

'Right, the bones of it is that Holmgeir and asi were paid a bag of gra.s.s and their debts written off to beat someone up, and no, he absolutely won't say who paid them; says it's more than his life's worth. He also swears blind he has no idea who the victim is and that they were just given an address and a picture, which he dropped in a bin afterwards.'

'So they beat this person up, or tried to?'

'So Holmgeir says. But he said their victim lashed out with a broken bottle, which is what gashed asi's leg. That's a fatal wound, so I guess we could be looking at a murder charge there.'

'Not sure the legal eagles would swallow that,' Gunna mused. 'Manslaughter, certainly, I'd say. Anything from Eirikur?'

Helgi laughed. 'Yep. The lady in the top flat is Maria Helga Sturlaugsdottir. She's mystified and hadn't seen her brother for a few days until she came home and found a note saying he'd left town for a bit. She does s.h.i.+ft work so it's not unusual for her not to see him for days at a time, she told Eirikur.'

'So who's the brother? Anyone we know?' Gunna asked, slowing down and checking her mirror for the Kjalarnes turnoff. She could hear Helgi's hollow laugh echo down the phone.

'He's her younger half-brother and goes by the name of Hrobjartur Bjarnthorsson. So, yes. Our elusive victim who sneaked out of hospital this morning is Bigfoot Baddo, and he's definitely someone we know.'

'What the h.e.l.l's going on, Helgi?' Gunna fumed. 'First he's shadowing us at the Gullfoss and then his description fits the character who was spotted after that car burned out at Grandi. Any news on that yet, by the way? Do we know if it was Magnus's car?'

'I don't know. Haven't had time to pester forensics.'

'Right. Do it now. Kick them, bribe them, buy them doughnuts, whatever. If we can tie this to Bigfoot Baddo we'll have made real progress. But circulate his description anyway. If Holmgeir doesn't fall apart in the witness box, we'll have the b.a.s.t.a.r.d for manslaughter as well as Magnus's murder.'

Joel Ingi almost wanted to shed bitter tears of frustration. Agnes hummed in the bathroom, and hadn't even asked why he was back from work so early. His distress was evident, and she seemed to be ignoring him, acting as if he wasn't even there, sitting and staring into s.p.a.ce as she casually piled clothes into a suitcase on the bed.

He sat on the sofa, his fingers twitching nervously as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. Glancing at it, he saw 'private number calling' and decided that it was best left unanswered. Hinrik had told him nothing of any use and he had come away from the flat where Hinrik lived with that bruiser of a woman as frustrated as he had been when he'd arrived.

His phone buzzed a second time and he gulped as he saw the text message displayed.

One hour. Be here. AEgir L A minute later the house phone began to chirp. Surprised that anyone would call his landline, Joel Ingi hunted for the handset and found it behind a pile of magazines just as Agnes padded in from the bathroom in a cloud of steam, towelling her hair and giving him a dazzling smile that confused him even more.

'Joel Ingi?' An unfamiliar, brisk voice asked.

'I'm not buying anything-'

'That's a shame, because I have something you need.'

'Who is this?'

'My name's Jon. Our mutual friend Hinrik mentioned that we ought to talk, so answer your mobile in half an hour.'

Agnes listened to Joel Ingi's side of the conversation, her head c.o.c.ked to one side, watching as the conversation was abruptly terminated and Joel Ingi was left holding a buzzing phone. 'You're going out,' she said, sitting down in an armchair and opening a drawer in a table next to it to bring out the makings of a joint.

'Do you have to smoke that f.u.c.king stuff in the house?' Joel Ingi snapped, his irritation boiling over.

Agnes shrugged. 'It's my house as well.'

'I'm a public official. If you get caught-'

Agnes's laughter tinkled. 'Who's going to catch me? Anyway, I like it. It helps me think,' she said. 'It helps me relax and it makes me h.o.r.n.y. Not that you complain about that.'

'I have to go.'

'Shame,' Agnes said coolly, rolling with practised ease. 'Going to be long? My flight's at six.'

'h.e.l.lo! Petur Steinar Albertsson?' Gunna asked, recognizing from his driving-licence photo the tall man with a lined but fresh face who looked round from his workbench. 'I knocked on the front door, but n.o.body answered.'

'Yeah, I'm Petur. What are you selling?'

'I'm not selling anything,' Gunna said and held open her police ID as the man stood up and a cloud of concern descended on what looked like a normally cheerful face.

'Anything wrong? The children . . . ?'

'Nothing like that,' she a.s.sured him. 'But I need a few questions answered.'

Petur wiped his hands on a rag and limped towards her. 'That sounds ominous, and we have enough problems as it is. But what can I do for you?'

Wondering how far she should go, Gunna looked around the workshop with interest. 'What do you make here?'

'These,' Petur said, tossing up and catching a wooden bowl from the top of a stack. 'I'm disabled and can't work a full day any more, so I make these for a tourist shop. They sell pretty well once they've been polished up.'

'Who lives here?'

'Me. My wife. Three children.'

'I know your name already. What's your wife's name?'

'Hekla. Hekla Elin Hauksdottir. Why?'

'Just wondering who lives here.'

Petur s.h.i.+fted his weight uncomfortably, leaning on a stick. 'We're renting this place month by month. We thought we were only going to be here for a few months, but now it looks like we might all be here for a while.'

'All?

'There's me and Hekla. My daughter Sif, and mine and Hekla's children, Albert and Alda. You still haven't told me what this is about.'

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