suppose a little bird whispered to me that your statement is a pack of lies? What then?”
Gunna held up the statement again, one finger on the scrawled signature at the bottom. Surprise registered on Bjossi’s face and he sat back to listen.
“Yours, I believe?”
“Whadda you mean?” Oskar blustered.
“What I mean is, you gave a statement putting Omar right next to Steindor Hjalmarsson when he was killed. Am I right?”
“Yeah. And what?”
“Long Ommi was your mate, your best mate. You grew up together. You don’t help the coppers do the dirty on your mates. You could easily have said that you saw nothing and just kept out of it. Your statement and Svana’s statement helped put Long Ommi away. Your best mate and Svana’s former lover, one of many, you included, I understand. Right?”
“Well, yeah, me and Svana had a thing going for a while. But Ommi, I didn’t …”
“Didn’t what?”
“I didn’t make a statement to get back at him or anything like that.”
“So why, then?” Gunna asked sweetly. “Why squeal on your mate? It’s not as if you had any special love for coppers, is it?”
“Hell, no,” Oskar spat through his broken teeth.
“So why?”
“Nothing to say,” Oskar said firmly.
Gunna sat back and looked at Bjossi, his face one big question mark.
“All right, let’s try another theory, shall we? Correct me if I’m wrong, won’t you?” Gunna continued. “Of course you don’t dump on your mates. But maybe your mate wanted you to testify that he was following Steindor Hjalmarsson?”
Oskar’s eyes overflowed with panic and he looked desperately past her at the door, as if willing anyone in the world to come into the room and interrupt. Gunna leaned forward and looked straight into the smashed face and the frantic eyes.
“So who really attacked Steindor Hjalmarsson, Skari? Who has Ommi been covering for all these years? Who promised him a payday when he’s done the time? Who’s being protected? And why is Ommi out now, ahead of time and causing trouble all round? Why has he been settling scores? Why were you thrashed and why is Svana dead? Who else is on his list? Come on, Skari. We’re on to you. Spill the beans, will you?”
“N-n-n-nothing to say,” Oskar squawked, drops of spit flying in every direction as the words came out faster than his puffed lips could cope with them.
“You’re telling me everything I need to know, Skari,” Gunna continued in a gentle tone. “If you have nothing to say, that tells me you have plenty to hide, so I have every reason to dig a bit deeper.”
“Shut up! Fuck off out of it and leave me alone,” Oskar yelled furiously. “Nurse! Erla! Where are you?”
“Skari, just who are you scared of? You’re in hospital. Ommi’s not going to come and break your kneecaps in here, is he?”
“Get out! Nurse! Come here, quick!” Oskar roared, sweat rolling in rivulets from his thick black hair and down his forehead. He wiped his face with a sleeve and continued to bellow.
“Jeezus,” scolded the nurse as she came in, punching a button on the wall. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave. You’ve really upset him and he’ll have to be sedated again now.”
Gunna and Bjossi stepped back as a sandy-haired young doctor appeared and strapped an oxygen mask around Oskar’s face, while the nurse patted his hand soothingly. Gunna could still see Oskar’s wild eyes, even though he began to calm down as the doctor administered an injection.
“You’ll have to leave now,” he said seriously. “If you’ve caused any complications …”
“Just doing our job, Doctor,” Gunna assured him. “See you again soon, Skari,” she said over one shoulder as they left the room and the door banged shut behind them.
“Hell, Gunna. Were you trying to give the poor bastard a heart attack? Couldn’t you see what he was like?” Bjossi demanded outside.
“You were listening, weren’t you?”
“You’re serious about that, are you? That Long Ommi’s been doing time for someone else? You weren’t just winding Skari up?”
Gunna looked at him and frowned. “Bjossi, dear and trusted comrade-in-arms. Of course I was deadly serious. You don’t think I’d push him that far if there wasn’t something behind it? The more I find out, the more convinced I am. I want to be sure who did kill that poor bloke. There must be a bloody good reason for it, and anyone who can afford to give Long Ommi a payday for doing a long stretch must have seriously deep pockets.”
“IT’S A RIGHT pig’s breakfast,” Gunna announced.
Ivar Laxdal’s brooding presence dominated the room. Eirikur and Helgi sat in silence, ready to be called on.
“Go on,” he said. “Just the outline, not too many details.”
Gunna took a deep breath and picked up a marker pen. The others sat in silence while she drew a circle on the board and wrote a series of names around it.
“Steindor Hjalmarsson was killed ten years ago in a fight. Omar Magnusson was convicted of the murder, which is all on record. Our information tells me that Omar wasn’t responsible for the killing. It seems to me that someone was concerned that Steindor was going to blow the whistle on some very dodgy dealing with several municipal authorities in property that subsequently became extremely valuable. I’m convinced that Omar was doing time for someone else.”
She drew arrows across the circle on the board to indicate the relationships.
“Now, Oskar Oskarsson and Svanhildur Mjoll Sigurgeirsdottir were both among the people who gave statements to the effect that Omar had argued with Steindor on the night he died. Omar absconds from prison a few months before he would have been up for parole. While he’s on the loose, Oskar is badly beaten and Svana Geirs is murdered. Also Daft Diddi is beaten and then intimidated into committing a violent robbery. With me so far, everyone?”
The three men nodded.
“We have all sorts going on here. Svana Geirs had turned herself into some kind of high-class hooker with an exclusive clientele. We’ve spoken to all of her regular clients, as far as we know, and some of them have sticky fingers. Bjartmar Arnarson and Jonas Valur Hjaltason didn’t seem too concerned that we knew what was going on. In fact, Bjartmar appears to have dropped out of the Svana club. The other two, Hallur Hallbjornsson and Bjarki Steinsson, are extremely jumpy. Hallur for understandable political reasons, and Bjarki because his wife will rip his balls off when she finds out.”
Gunna paused for breath. “Questions?”
“Get on with it,” Ivar Laxdal growled.
“We also have the problem of Bjartmar’s wife, still in hospital after what looks like an arson attack. Bjartmar himself has a very unsavoury past. He owned the club where the altercation between Steindor and Omar took place. Omar and Oskar were both working for Bjartmar, ostensibly as bouncers, but both were certainly involved in Bjartmar’s other illegal business interests.”
“Such as?” Ivar Laxdal asked.
“Dope. Blacklights was a clearing house for all kinds of narcotics, but Bjartmar was very careful never to get his own hands dirty. The man came into some money in the late nineties, and within a year he’d gone legit and was probably making more money legally than he had done illegally.”
“How?”
“Property investments, for the most part. He bought houses and sold them as soon as the value rose by twenty per cent. Prices shot up between 2000 and 2007, so he made a fortune and put a lot of it into a similar business in Spain selling property to elderly people looking to retire somewhere warm. But he was still heavily into property and development here at the same time. One of his companies, Rigel Investment, owns the building just round the corner on Lindargata where Svana Geirs lived.”
“It’s convoluted, isn’t it?” Ivar Laxdal observed with a rare shadow of a smile.
