‘For what, may I ask?’
‘You may well ask, and it’ll be for possession of and intent to supply a class A drug, and I’ll alert every officer in the country to arrest her on the spot and haul your boss to the nearest police station until I get there. While you’re at it, I want her sister Erna’s address and phone numbers as well.’
Osk scribbled phone numbers and addresses on a slip of paper and passed it across.
‘You didn’t get that from me,’ she snarled, her face flushed and this time rising to her full imposing height.
‘We’ll see. I’m warning you not to let her know that we’re on the way. If she’s not at home, I’ll be back and you’ll be charged with obstructing a police investigation. Let’s go,’ Gunna snapped, striding to the door with Bara, fumbling to answer her phone, at her heels.
‘That was fantastic,’ Bara said in admiration once the door had slammed shut behind them.
‘Bloody woman,’ Gunna rumbled as she ignored the lift and took the stairs three at a time. ‘I’m going to drop you at the Gullfoss and I want you to go through the staff who were on duty on Friday night. Find out who was there, and especially when Harde left, and if he left with Erna. Find out where they went. They must have got a taxi if Erna was as pissed as Jon Oddur reckons.’
‘Right,’ Bara puffed, wondering how someone built on generous lines could have so much energy.
‘Seven thirty tomorrow. Let me know then what you’ve found out.’
32
Tuesday, 30 September
Birna Olafsdottir lay back as far as she could and closed her eyes, but she kept the seat fully upright out of consideration for the people in the row behind. The rest of the party were scattered around the aircraft, the price of having changed their arrangements at short notice. She was relieved to be seated between strangers, away from colleagues and their need to discuss work.
She was not unhappy to have the trip to Berlin cut short, although she carefully made no outward show of it. A civil servant is just that, she felt, a servant with a role to play during working hours. What her personal opinions were did not come into the equation and she also took a quiet pride in maintaining a distinct separation between her career and her personal life.
The ministerial party had not been due to return to Reykjavik until Friday, with a morning flight after the obligatory cocktail party scheduled for Thursday evening and the formal dinner that followed. This was something that she would have been excused, leaving the Minister to consume rather too many liqueurs and smoke the cigars she knew his wife did not allow him at home. Birna had not scheduled anything for her Thursday evening in Berlin beyond a room service meal and an hour or two in front of the television after a long bath.
But a walk along Kufurstendamm yesterday morning and coffee, as if by chance, with some old friends while the Minister was still clearing his head of the previous evening’s brandy had been enough of a pleasure to make the trip as a whole enjoyable.
***
A police car was already in the drive of Sigurjona and Bjarni Jon’s discreet mansion in Seltjarnarnes when Gunna parked behind it. Gunna scowled to herself, wondering what was happening as she scrunched up the gravel path in the first frost of the autumn to ring the bell.
A young policewoman answered the door. Gunna recognized her and racked her memory for the girl’s name.
‘Edda, isn’t it?’ she hazarded.
‘Yeah, I’m Edda Sif. And you’re from Hvalvik, aren’t you? Gunnhildur? What brings you here?’
Gunna stepped back and motioned for Edda Sif to step outside as well.
‘What’s going on? This is Sigurjona Huldudottir’s place, isn’t it?’ she asked when they were out of earshot of the mansion’s gaping hallway.
‘That’s right. She’s inside with my partner. We had a report of a missing person and were sent here to get a statement straight away. It helps when your husband’s in the government,’ she added.
‘Who’s the missing person?’
‘Her sister, Erna Dan. You know, the hairdresser?’
‘OK, give me the gist of it.’
‘The call was an hour ago. It seems her sister hasn’t been seen since Friday night.’
‘But it’s only Tuesday now. We’re not talking about a child here.’
‘Yeah, I know, and it’s not as if the sister doesn’t have a history of vanishing for a few days now and again. I checked our system and she’s on that as well.’
‘What for?’
‘Drunk and disorderly, mostly. A few fights, just handbag waving, really. Always booze-related.’
‘Married? Kids?’
‘Two kids, separated. One child’s father lives in Grafarvogur, the other’s is in the US. Both kids with their fathers at the moment, due back to be with their mother in two weeks.’
‘And Sigurjona?’ Gunna asked. ‘What’s her theory? Does she have a basis for believing her sister to be missing?’
‘So it seems. Says she went off with some foreign guy called Hardy and hasn’t been seen since, and now she’s not answering her mobile.’
‘Checked anywhere else?’
‘No answer at her home either.’
‘Ah. In that case I’d better have a word with the lady.’
‘Do you have an angle on this?’ Edda Sif asked curiously.
‘Bloody right. It’s Harde I’m after.’
Sigurjona’s tearful presence occupied the whole of the expensively furnished room. She sat on a leather sofa overshadowed by a huge abstract painting in blocks of primary colours, sniffing as a young policeman probed with gentle questions.
Gunna marched in and looked Sigurjona directly in the face. She stared back with hostility in her eyes.
‘You? What are you doing here?’ she asked as anger and some colour began to seep back into her face, carefully made up in spite of her tearful demeanour. A tiny rivulet of mascara had begun to flow southwards from the corner of one eye.
‘Olli, isn’t it?’ Gunna asked the young policeman, perched with an open notebook on a corner of a deep armchair. The young man nodded.
‘All right. Leave me with this lady for ten minutes, would you? There must be a kitchen here somewhere, and I’m sure Sigurjona won’t mind if you put some coffee on.’
At a loss at Gunna’s unexpected appearance, Sigurjona nodded mutely.
Gunna perched on the edge of the deep chair that Olli had vacated to search for the kitchen.
‘Where the hell is Harde?’ she demanded.
‘I don’t know,’ Sigurjona wailed and dabbed at her eye with a tissue.
‘All right. Tell me what’s happened. Quickly, please.’
‘I don’t know. Erna was with us all at the awards party —’
‘Harde as well?’
Sigurjona nodded.
‘How come he was there at a party for PR people?’
‘I invited him,’ Sigurjona admitted and hesitated.
‘Go on.’
‘He was dancing with Erna and they disappeared about the same time. Quite early. I think they may have gone home together.’
‘To Erna’s home?’
