Traustason tailed off, attention on his screen.
‘But what?’
Throughout her career, she had been mildly irritated by Vilhjalmur Traustason, as well as occasionally tempted to punch his prominent nose. Promotion had sought him out in the same way that it had steadfastly avoided Gunna. She was fully aware that only an unusual set of circumstances had made her a sergeant in a rural area instead of still being a constable in the city force, and that further promotion was less than likely. The chief inspector’s steady rise put them at odds when it came to the increasingly frequent issue of funding.
‘I know how you love figures, Vilhjalmur. So I’ve prepared some for you,’ she said, passing a sheet of paper across the desk to him.
He looked doubtful and scrutinized the list of requirements.
‘You don’t really need all this, do you?’ he asked, aghast.
‘Probably not. But I’m sure we can strike a happy medium somewhere.’
‘But — all this? Why? How can you justify it?’
‘Since the smelter construction started on the far side of the harbour we simply have so much more to do. Traffic through Hvalvik has increased by around four hundred per cent and virtually all of that is heavy goods. Basically, trucks going to and from that new aluminium plant. The place is awash with heavy traffic and Polish labourers.’
‘But you’re coping well.’
‘For the moment, Vilhjalmur, for the moment. There’s only me and Haddi, and Haddi doesn’t speak enough English or anything else to deal with these people.’
‘You can call for additional manpower when you need it.’
‘I can call and it’s not going to come half the time. That’s why I’m putting in for two additional officers for the Hvalvik station.’
‘Two?’ Vilhjalmur squeaked. ‘There’s a request for an additional car here as well. You have two cars already and normally a station like yours has only one vehicle.’
‘It’s a big area we have to cover. The Volvos are getting old and we could do with a jeep for the winter.’
Vilhjalmur consulted his laptop again, scratched his head and sucked his teeth while Gunna watched him carefully while pretending to make notes on the pad resting on her knee.
Eventually he sighed heavily. ‘Gunnhildur. What do you really need? What are your priorities?’
‘Manpower. Then an additional vehicle. Then all the other bits and pieces.’
‘Well, you’re in luck, actually, as I have a very experienced officer who has asked for a transfer and I’m sure he’d suit you.’
‘Not Viggo Bjorgvins?’
‘How did you know?’ he snapped.
‘Because the man’s being transferred all the bloody time. No. I want someone a lot younger than that idiot.’
Sour-faced, Vilhjalmur consulted his laptop. ‘You can have one officer on permanent secondment.’
‘Who?’
‘You can have Snorri Hilmarsson or Bara Gunnolfsdottir. They’ve both been seconded to you occasionally, I believe.’
Gunna thought quickly. She knew and liked both officers. Bara was small, fair and quick-witted with an ability to get straight to the heart of things, while Snorri was the beefy, likeable young man with an endless reserve of good humour who was normally the one sent to help out at Hvalvik. Gunna knew him as tenacious but without Bara’s spark of fierce intelligence. She had seen plenty of both of them and paused over a less than easy choice.
‘Snorri,’ she decided.
‘Why?’
‘He’s a plodder. Methodical, gets on with it. Country copper material. Bara has a great future in CID, as long as you can keep her on the force.’
Vilhjalmur winced at the reference to the police force’s retention rate.
‘All right. I’ll interview Snorri when he comes on duty and we’ll see if he’s prepared for a transfer to Hvalvik.’
‘Oh, he is. He lives in Hvalvik anyway, so he’s happy with it.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I’ve already asked him.’
‘Gunnhildur, you know you shouldn’t bypass procedure,’ Vilhjalmur admonished grimly. ‘Now, vehicles.’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s August now. How long are these vehicles you have going to last?’
‘Search me. I’m not a mechanic.’
‘I don’t have a vehicle for you. I can’t justify it.’
‘Come on. That old Volvo’s going to fall apart soon.’
He tapped his teeth with the pencil. ‘Make it last the summer. I’ll allocate you a jeep, but not until October.’
Gunna wanted to spit on her palm and shake his hand, but was still suspicious. It seemed to have all been too easy.
‘Done. Can I have Snorri from next week?’
Gunna used the CID room. She could have gone back to Hvalvik as soon as Vilhjalmur had agreed to let her have both Snorri and a jeep, but she felt the need of the buzz of colleagues around her rather than Haddi’s dry chuckle from the next room.
‘Hvalvik police,’ she heard Haddi answer gruffly after a dozen rings.
‘Hi, it’s me. Are you all right without me for a few hours?’
‘Yeah. I reckon I can maintain law and order for a while. Are you busy with that bloke?’
‘Pretty much. CID have better things to do, so this is down to us.’
‘That’s all right. Tomorrow’s going to be busy, though.’
‘Why’s that?’ Gunna asked.
‘They’re bringing some low-loaders through to the smelter site so we’ll have to close a couple of streets and escort them through.’
‘Shouldn’t be a problem. D’you want the good news?’
‘No news is normally good news.’
‘We have Snorri from Monday and get a jeep in October.’
Gunna heard Haddi snort, which she recognized as a laugh of sorts. ‘And what did you have to do to persuade Vilhjalmur? Did you beat him round the head or just threaten the old fool?’
‘Didn’t have to do either. Just set out the case and explained how busy we are. But he did try and palm me off with Viggo Bjorgvins.’
‘But you got Snorri instead?’
‘So he says. But I’ll wait and see if it’s Viggo who turns up on Monday morning.’
‘If he does, I’ll be asking for a transfer,’ Haddi growled.
‘Me too,’ Gunna agreed. ‘Anyway, I’ll see you later.’
Rather than use Bjossi’s desk, she sat herself opposite his empty place in the chair that would belong to the station’s second CID officer — when recruitment and financial constraints might allow the post to be filled.
It took more than an hour on the computer to plough through the national register that lists the full name, date of birth and legal residence of every Icelandic citizen and foreign resident. She emerged from the E section with ten candidates for men with the initials EEE, of whom six could not be ruled out by their age. Encouraged, she plunged into the V section of the register, but found that VV was a very common set of initials and decided to concentrate on E3.
Referring to the list of names and dates of birth on the pad next to her, she clicked the mouse on the telephone directory and began with the first of the names. She added the phone numbers given to the list on her pad, pulled Bjossi’s phone across the desk towards her and dialled the first number.
