Part 31 (1/2)

'Hey, mate. I don't know anyone called Baddo,' he protested.

Eirikur took out his phone and punched in a number. 'It's ringing,' he said, leaving the phone on the table with the loudspeaker on.

'Where's your phone, Hinrik?' Eirikur asked.

'I don't know. It's somewhere.'

'It's somewhere here, but where?'

Hinrik shrugged and spread his arms wide, as if to demonstrate his innocence, until the door creaked open and one of the searchers came in with a grin on his face. A cheap mobile phone buzzed and flashed in his gloved hand. 'Is that one of you sneaky b.a.s.t.a.r.ds calling our boy's phone?'

'Could be,' Eirikur said, taking the vibrating phone and dropping it in an evidence bag before placing it on the table, where it continued to demand attention until he ended the call on his own phone. A 'missed call' message and a sad-faced smiley icon appeared on the phone in the bag.

'That must be Ragga's phone. She's a sloppy cow and she was looking for it last night.'

'That's your phone. It's going from here to the lab and don't think for a second that your dabs aren't all over it. Now, back to business. Where's Baddo?'

'Honestly, mate,' Hinrik said. 'I don't know any Baddo.'

'Firstly, I'm not your mate. Secondly, Hrobjartur Bjarnthorsson. He used to go by the name of Bigfoot, and you know him well enough. He's called that phone of yours half a dozen times in the last week. So don't give me bulls.h.i.+t, Hinrik, and don't imagine that this is about a few bags of gra.s.s. Baddo's facing a murder charge when we catch up with him and you've a good chance of winding up in the next cell.'

Any remaining colour drained from Hinrik's face, which his nocturnal lifestyle had already endowed with a pasty pallor.

'What's he done?' Hinrik croaked, his throat left dry by the rapidly rising stakes.

'All in good time, Hinrik. All in good time,' Eirikur a.s.sured him. 'I think you'll be safe cancelling all your appointments for the rest of the day. You and Ragga are both going to Hverfisgata with us for a very detailed chat. But first you'd best tell us where your old pal Baddo has got to.'

'I don't know,' Hinrik said miserably and Eirikur could see that for once Hinrik would be happy to talk. 'I reckon he's been living with his sister these last few months, since he turned up all of a sudden from the Baltic. But he's been keeping his head down. There are people who have unfinished business with Baddo and he doesn't have too many friends.'

'Like asi asu?'

'Don't make me laugh. asi's a brain-dead dopehead who was still in short trousers when Baddo left the country. There are bigger fish who want to see Baddo's knees broken.'

'Such as?'

'Mundi.'

'Mundi Gretars, you mean?'

'Among others. Mundi has a long memory.'

'Go on,' Eirikur prompted. 'A quick history lesson.'

Hinrik sighed and grimaced, glancing towards the door. 'Mundi had a big deal going on. This was years ago, you remember. You lot busted Mundi's courier. Mundi lost a ton of cash that went up in smoke and he reckoned Baddo had gra.s.sed. Like I said, Mundi never forgets.'

'So where is he now?'

'Mundi?' Hinrik cackled. 'Mundi's somewhere warm, I reckon. He doesn't get his hands dirty.'

'No. Where's Baddo?'

'I guess you've been to Maria's place. If he's not there, then don't ask me. He's been seeing a woman these last few days, so maybe he's with her? I don't know.'

'Name?'

'She's called Ebba. Lives somewhere up the top end of Kleppsvegur. That's all I know.'

Eirikur picked up the phone in its bag from the table and scrolled through the memory.

'Not clever, Hinrik. Just as well you didn't erase the call log,' he told him. 'Not that it matters much. Ah, here it is. Ten thirty-six yesterday morning you had a call that lasted just over four minutes. What did you and Baddo have to talk about?'

'Don't know, mate.'

'If you call me ”mate” one more time, I'm going to ram this phone so far up your a.r.s.e, sideways, that your eyes will light up every time it rings. Now stop giving me this bulls.h.i.+t and come clean, unless you want an extra five years on your sentence for obstructing a murder investigation.'

Baddo had stopped at Kjalarnes the night before for a quick look around and knew where the house was. This time he stopped at the shop, filled the mud-coloured Hyundai's tank and drank a paper cupful of bitter liquid that tried unconvincingly to pa.s.s for coffee. Refreshed by the caffeine and the cold, still morning air, he rolled slowly through the little settlement at Kjalarnes, past the rows of ordered houses to the single old wooden house beyond. An old farm building, he guessed, which had probably been there for years before the rows of silver-grey concrete terraced houses and the new school were built.

Baddo stopped the Hyundai behind a grey 4 4 that looked as if it had been there for a while, using it as a s.h.i.+eld while he checked his phone for missed calls.

He punched in Joel Ingi's number, but ended the call as the voicemail message began. Any message to that miserable young fool would be delivered in person, he decided.

The thought gave him a warm feeling, so much so that he found himself dreaming and almost missed the thickset man emerging from the house. Baddo sat up and paid attention, watching the place keenly. The man limped over to an old blue Land Rover by the door and started it with a cloud of white smoke before making his way back indoors. A minute later the man re-emerged, shepherding two small children into the back of the car, strapping them in carefully and putting a crutch inside with them.

Baddo hunched forward, pretending to be engrossed in his phone as the Land Rover chugged up the slope past him and into the distance.

'I've had the ministry on the phone twice already, and the National Commissioner wanting to know what the h.e.l.l's going on,' he said, making his way across the car park as Gunna strode along at his side, trying to match his pace. She had left Eirikur with Hinrik in an interview room, with instructions to be as tough on him as the law would allow.

'I have the closest links I've been able to find to Hrobjartur Bjarnthorsson so far being booked in right now. Either that skinny deadbeat knows where he is, or else he knows someone who does, and we need to beat it out of him,' Gunna said. 'Is the ministry getting its knickers in a twist over Joel Ingi Bragason?'

ivar Laxdal double-clicked the fob of his car key and the black Volvo on the other side of the yard flashed its lights obediently.

'I'm not sure, to be honest with you, but we're going to find out,' he said, his jaw set pugnaciously forward. 'Get in,' he instructed as the engine whispered into life and Gunna felt herself sink deep into the soft leather of the seats as ivar Laxdal accelerated out of the yard and into the street.

She wondered why they had driven the few hundred metres to the ministry when walking would have been quicker, but ivar Laxdal slotted the car into a s.p.a.ce marked clearly for the minister's personal use and was halfway up the steps before Gunna was even out of the car.

A pale-faced Mar Einarsson was in the lobby, in earnest conversation with a buxom young woman. He looked up as they came through the main entrance, bypa.s.sing the reception desk. He hurried over and shook ivar Laxdal's hand.

'This way, please. AEgir's waiting for us upstairs,' he said, ushering them into the lift. Gunna wondered if the drama was being overdone for their benefit, and as the lift closed, she wondered why the plump girl Mar had been speaking to so intently a few moments earlier appeared to be so tearful.

AEgir Larusson didn't keep them waiting. In his own office rather than a meeting room, he glared at ivar Laxdal, who outstared him back until AEgir's gaze dropped to the desk in front of him.

'I hardly think your missing young man is our problem,' ivar Laxdal said. 'Has he done anything illegal that we should know about?'

AEgir's voice was a rasp that almost struck sparks off the stylish steel-framed furniture. 'You knew this was important. We requested the highest priority weeks ago, and you did nothing.'

'I take it you're referring to this hopeless idea that we might be able to retrieve a computer that some overpaid clown mislaid? It hardly helped that you wouldn't tell us what was so remarkable about this laptop, and it helps even less that the clown who lost it lied about how and where he last saw it.'

AEgir's eyes bulged for a moment and he took several deep breaths.

'You need to understand that there has been a considerable escalation in the urgency of the situation,' Mar said in a businesslike voice that he clearly hoped would defuse the explosive atmosphere. 'We appreciate that you have a heavy workload and that you have devoted resources to this, but the urgency of the situation has become an extremely serious issue, and there have been some rather sudden developments.'