questions.
“So what was the nature of your relationship with Svanhildur Mjoll? Did you live together?”
“No, we never shacked up like that. She had a flat with Elma and the other girl from that band they were in. I was around there a while.”
“Where were you living?”
“Where did I live in 1996? What’s all this? Are you going to let them carry on with this crap?” Ommi demanded of his lawyer, who merely shrugged in reply.
Helgi picked up a sheet of paper from the desk and pretended to consult it.
“According to the National Registry, your legal residence until you went to prison was at Hraungata 19 in Hvalvik. I take it you weren’t actually living there?”
“That’s where my mum lives. I haven’t even been near that dump for years.”
“How long did your relationship with Svanhildur Mjoll last?”
“A few months.”
“Why did it come to an end?”
“I don’t know. I got tired of her.”
“Not because you were abusive and violent? You have a record of violence against women.”
“Don’t drag that up again. That was years ago, and only the once.”
Helgi gazed at Ommi and tried to gauge just how angry he was getting with the line of questioning he did not see the reason for. “Isn’t it true that Svanhildur Mjoll threw you over after you hit her?”
“No! I dropped her. And I never smacked her, even if I wanted to.”
“Why would you want to?” Gunna broke in.
Ommi shook his head. “She was just nuts. She’d drive you mad sometimes, wanting this and that, wanting to go here or there and always right now. Maybe she’s slowed down by now. Felt sorry for that poor bastard she married, twisted him right round her little finger and dropped him the minute he wasn’t going to be a rich footballer.”
“You mean Sigmundur Bjornsson?”
“Yeah. What happened to him? He just vanished the second Svana crossed her legs.” Ommi looked up truculently into Helgi’s eyes, as if challenging him. “Why all this stuff about Svana?”
“You were involved with Svana, and so was Oskar Oskarsson,” Helgi guessed. “You guys were the best of friends, so what was going on there?”
“?i. Me and Skari. We were best mates and we were always trying out each other’s cast-offs. I had Svana first. Then Skari had a go at her for a while. We were mates. We shared these things like mates do.”
“And Skari and you aren’t the best of friends these days,” Helgi said. “Why’s that? Where were you on Thursday last week?”
“Can’t remember.”
“Try. We have CCTV evidence that puts you at the N1 petrol station in Keflavik shortly before Oskar Oskarsson was admitted to hospital.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, Ommi. Now, what happened between you and Skari? You’d been best mates since you were in kindergarten. Grew up on the same street. Went to Reykjavik together when Hvalvik wasn’t big enough any more. You were both involved in all kinds of stuff, pinching cars, flogging dope, collecting debts for Benni Sol—”
“I never worked for Benni,” Ommi interrupted.
“Ah, but you did. The man told us himself that you’d run errands for him.”
The lawyer coughed discreetly at Ommi’s side and Helgi’s voice hardened. “You. Skari. What went wrong?”
“Shit, man. We just fell out. It happens.”
“Over what? Svana?”
“Well, yeah. I suppose,” Ommi admitted. “She was part of it, I reckon. Skari didn’t have it in him any more, went soft.”
“When did you last see her?” Helgi asked.
“Svana? Hell, I don’t know. Didn’t see a lot of her after she got famous on TV and married that weightlifting guy, got too smart to talk to her old friends any more.”
“So when did you see her last?”
“Dunno. Before you lot banged me up.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah. Course I’m sure,” Ommi snarled.
“My client has been asked the same question a number of times now, officer,” the lawyer pointed out, trying to stifle a yawn.
“In that case it would be useful for you to explain how come we were able to retrieve your fingerprints from Svanhildur Mjoll’s flat. These prints weren’t more than a week old when we lifted them.”
Ommi’s face set hard and the lawyer’s eyebrows shot upwards.
“Ommi, we have Oskar Oskarsson in hospital in Keflavik to start with. Kristbjorn Hrafnsson, better known to you as Daft Diddi, was admitted to Casualty and when asked what happened told the officers who took him there that “it wasn’t Long Ommi.” So why did Diddi say that? And now Svana. Did you decide to settle a few scores, just for old times’ sake, Ommi?”
“What’s this with Svana?”
“If you’ve been holed up for a few days, maybe you’re a bit behind with the news. Svana Geirs was found murdered in her flat. It’s common enough knowledge, but maybe you haven’t been watching the news in your little hideaway?”
“Svana’s dead?” Ommi asked, eyes wide.
“Yup, and your prints are in her flat.”
“I think I need to talk to this guy without you listening,” Ommi said, ashen-faced, turning to the now wide- awake lawyer at his side.
IN THE CANTEEN, Gunna found Eirikur talking to one of the police legal team, a sharp-faced woman who was respected but not generally liked. As Gunna made for their table, the other woman stood up, nodded and left with a stack of papers in one hand.
“What did our legal eagle have to say?” Gunna asked.
“Questions over why Addi the Pill has a broken wrist. I told her that he resisted arrest and assaulted an officer in the process.”
“And was she satisfied with that?”
“Oh, yes, especially when I told her to ask Helgi for details, as he was the officer in charge of the operation. I gather she rather likes Helgi.”
“Poor Helgi. Right, what did you get out of Addi the Pill?”
Eirikur grimaced. “Shit, what a thug. Have you seen his record? There’s a bit of practically everything there.” He sighed to himself. “A real head case, this guy is. I’ve no doubt he’s the one who drove Diddi to the bank and drove him away afterwards. He fits Diddi’s description perfectly, doesn’t have an alibi. There’s a red Ford that also fits the description parked a few streets away from the house in Gardab?r, registered to a sixty-three-year old woman who reported it stolen from outside her house in Reykjanesb?r ten days ago, and the keys were in Addi’s jacket pocket. Technical are going over it for prints and whatever else can be found.”
“Good going, young man,” Gunna said approvingly.
“He’s having his wrist checked by the doctor again, says it hurts. When that’s done, I’ll have another session with him. How goes it with Ommi?”
“He’s tying himself in knots, but won’t admit a thing. I’m leaving Helgi to look after him while I go for a chat with Selma.”
“She’s in floods of tears, or so I’m told,” Eirikur said with satisfaction. “I take it that’s not going to make you go soft on her, is it?”
Gunna stood up and cracked her knuckles. “You know, Eirikur? You lot all see me as this evil old witch who’s had every shred of sympathy surgically removed. Well let me tell you, under this rough exterior there’s a heart of pure stone. Don’t you worry about Selma. She’ll be singing like a bird before you know it.”
