‘Can you come and pick me up?’ Elena asked.
‘Hmm … not from the hostel. I can’t take the risk of being seen – because of Katja being in hiding, you understand.’ He mentioned a shop within walking distance of the hostel and asked Elena to meet him there.
‘It’s such a long way,’ Elena whined, her teeth chattering from the cold. Although there was no snow on the ground, the weather was freezing and she wasn’t adequately dressed. Still, it couldn’t be helped. Bjartur led the way along the path to the cove. Ahead loomed a couple of buildings, hard to make out in the gloom.
‘She’s in that house over there, the one closer to the sea,’ he said at last.
‘Seriously? Katja’s there?’
‘No one would think of looking for her here.’
‘Unbelievable. You mean she’s been here all the time?’
‘She was staying with me to begin with,’ Bjartur said, allowing a little warmth to steal into his voice. For a moment, he almost believed it himself, recalling his fantasy about marrying her and taking her to live in his house. ‘But it was too risky,’ he went on. ‘I’ve got my elderly parents living with me. They’d have found out sooner or later.’
‘I see,’ Elena said.
He couldn’t read her expression in the darkness. Was she convinced?
‘I’m sure she’ll be eligible for a residence permit, like me,’ Elena continued after a moment. ‘Our situations aren’t that different.’
‘Right,’ said Bjartur. ‘Right.’
‘But … it’s a pity she had to run away like that. Was it your idea?’ Her voice was accusatory.
‘Mine? Of course not.’ Bjartur adopted an injured tone. ‘I did my best to talk her out of it.’
‘Does she know? That we’re coming, I mean?’
‘No. She hasn’t got a phone.’
Elena was silent.
Only as they approached the houses did she speak again.
‘You know what, this doesn’t feel right, Bjartur. No one could live here. There’s no glass in the windows. These buildings are empty.’
‘Don’t be silly. I assure you she’s here.’
Elena turned to look at him, and now he could see that her eyes were narrowed with suspicion.
‘Are you lying to me?’
Alone with him in the cold and dark, she seemed suddenly tense with fear.
Bjartur halted. There was hardly a breath of wind, and the murmur of the waves was mesmerizing. He studied her. She couldn’t escape now.
‘Are you lying? Why are you lying?’ Her voice rose, sounding high and strained: ‘Where’s Katja?’
She began to back away from him. Bjartur didn’t move.
Then she turned and fled into the night.
It didn’t take him long to catch up. When he did, he hurled her to the ground, grabbed a nearby stone and bashed her on the head, knocking her out. Was she dead? Probably not. He thought he could detect a pulse.
Bjartur lifted her up and carted her limp body down to the cove, stumbling once or twice on the rocks in the darkness. Then he laid Elena carefully on her front, with her head in the salt water, and held her down.
XXVII
‘You mean there was nothing in the papers I brought you?’ Hulda asked, her mind working furiously, determined to do everything in her power to keep the conversation going.
Bjartur laughed. ‘Nothing of interest. Obviously, I had to think fast when you mentioned Katja; find some excuse to lure you out of town. I had to get rid of you. There’s no alternative.’
Hulda cursed silently. This had turned into the day from hell. All her mistakes came back to haunt her: Emma’s confession, the man murdered in hospital, Áki’s arrest. She should never have got out of bed. Normally, she told herself, she’d have been far quicker to sense the danger she was in, but worry had blunted her instincts.
‘Please, give me some water,’ Hulda gasped, though it went against the grain to ask this man for anything.
‘Later,’ he said, but she wasn’t sure he meant it.
‘Were they both working as prostitutes?’ she asked.
Bjartur burst out laughing. ‘Of course not. Neither of them was. They were good girls, especially Katja – she was lovely.’
‘But …’ Only now, far too late, did Hulda understand how Bjartur had misled her, set her on the wrong path at the very outset of the investigation.
‘I was so thrown when you appeared on my doorstep,’ he went on. ‘I’d put the whole thing behind me; thought the case was closed ages ago. All I could think was to find some way of deflecting your attention from me. Then I had a brainwave: I’d tell you Elena had been on the game. And it worked pretty well, didn’t it? Had you fooled.’
Hulda blinked, her eyes full of dirt. When they cleared, she saw that Bjartur was smiling, absently.
She could feel the terror clutching at her heart, but she mustn’t let it paralyse her. For a moment, she was a child again, locked in the naughty cupboard by her grandmother.
Closing her eyes briefly, she concentrated on the birdsong. Surely somebody would help her. Even though it was past midnight, there must be someone about. Or perhaps Bjartur would change his mind, perhaps he was only trying to frighten her … Her hopes ebbed away with every second that passed.
‘You won’t get away with this,’ she said at last, but it sounded unconvincing, even to her own ears.
‘I’ve already got away with two murders. I’m getting to be quite an old hand. And I’ll make sure you’re never found. We’re laying the concrete foundation this week.’
‘But …’ Her mind flew to her mobile. It must be possible to track her whereabouts, find out where she’d been, even if it was too late to save her.
Once again, Bjartur seemed to read her mind.
‘I dealt with your phone hours ago. Remember when you lent it to me and I pretended to call my dad? I took out the battery.’
‘There’s still my car.’
‘That’s a bit more of
