“Yeah. Right as rain. She’d had a lot done since I saw her last, new this, new that, looked like a million dollars. I swear it, I didn’t touch her, honestly. But if you bring the bastard who did it in here, I’ll make him wish he’d never been born.”
Gunna wanted to believe him, and for once Ommi’s voice had an earnest quality that was startlingly fresh.
“Fair enough. But Skari? What happened there?”
“Jesus. Found out why I couldn’t get hold of him. The twat had gone and moved back to Crapsville with his fat girl,” Ommi said with a shake of the head. “Me and Addi went out there to look for him, and when we did find him in Keflavik, it wasn’t the way it should have been. He just went apeshit. Said he was straight now and wanted to keep it that way.”
“So Jonas had squared all the witnesses? Skari and Svana?”
“Yeah, and the rest of them.”
“Understood. What was the upshot with Oskar? How come he’s in such a bad way?”
“He went fucking wild when I told him he’d had his payout from old Jonas for saying his piece in court that put me away, but I’d been left out in the cold. He laid right into me and I gave it all back, plus a bit more.” Ommi sighed. “I’m a lot stronger than when I was put away. I shouldn’t have done it, but fuck it. He wanted a ruck and he got a proper one.”
“And this was in Keflavik?”
“Yeah. Near where he works. Shit, I’ve told you enough, and it’s cold out here.”
WITH OMMI TAKEN away and back in his cell, Gunna remembered to check her phone for missed calls. Instead of the one that she had expected, there were fifteen, and she was scrolling through the numbers quickly, wondering which one to return first, when the phone started to buzz in her hand.
“Gunnhildur,” she barked.
“H?, Mum. When are you going to be home?” asked Laufey to Gunna’s relief.
“Oh, am I glad to hear you,” she said.
“Why’s that?” Laufey asked with suspicion.
“Nothing, sweetheart.” Gunna laughed. “I was just expecting a call I don’t really want to take. That’s all.”
“All right, Mum. But when will you be back?”
“I don’t know. What time is it now?”
“Two.”
“Should be around six, seven-ish. Why, do you need me for something?”
“No, not really,” Laufey said, and there was a pause that set Gunna’s alarms ringing.
“What’s up?”
“It’s not me, Mum. It’s all right. It’s Sigrun. She was asking about you and why she hasn’t seen you for a few days.”
“I know, sweetheart. But you and Steini haven’t seen much of me for a while either, have you? Things are just busy at work as usual, and these days when there’s overtime on offer, I have to take it.”
“I don’t think Sigrun’s well, Mum.”
Gunna looked up to see Eirikur gazing at her enquiringly.
“OK, sweetheart. I’ll be back as early as I can and I’ll make a point of going to see her this evening. D’you maybe want to ask her and Jens to come and eat with us tonight?”
She could hear Laufey’s breathing.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m walking down the hill to Sigrun’s place now. I’ll tell her, OK?”
“You do that, sweetheart. See you this evening.”
She ended the call and looked at the screen to see a text message in the inbox. She pressed the button to display it.
Come and find me at H-gata before 1700. IL, she read.
That’s going to be my bollocking for losing my temper with S?valdur, she thought, and scrolled through the numbers of the missed calls again. Ten were from withheld numbers, three from Laufey and two from numbers she didn’t recognize.
“Eirikur, sorry about that. Time to go.”
“You know Ivar Laxdal called you a couple of times and couldn’t get through. Someone must have told him we were out together and he called me to ask where we were.”
“And you told him that we were enjoying a relaxing mud bath in the Blue Lagoon, I suppose?”
“Well, no. I told him we’re at Litla-Hraun interviewing Omar Magnusson,” he said innocently, and then broke into a grin.
Gunna started the Range Rover and reversed out of the parking space before swinging round and heading for the main road.
“You know, Eirikur, Ivar Laxdal is one of nature’s anomalies. There’s a lot to be admired in a man like that, but I don’t believe he’s overendowed in the humor department, at least not where work’s concerned.”
“Maybe, chief,” Eirikur agreed. “What did you get out of Long Ommi?”
“Everything I expected,” Gunna said grimly. “Everything and more.”
On the way back to Reykjavik they stopped at a petrol station, and Eirikur went inside while Gunna pumped diesel. He returned with cans of malt, a couple of sandwiches and a grim look on his face just as Gunna swiped her card through the pump’s reader.
“All right?”
Eirikur simply held out a newspaper so that she could see the front page of that morning’s Dagurinn.
“Shit,” she swore. “Jump in and I’ll move off the pumps.”
She gunned the engine angrily and had the newspaper out of Eirikur’s hands before the car had come to a halt on the far side of the forecourt. Hogni Sigurgeirsson’s mournful face filled the front page in unflattering close- up.
“‘Hogni Sigurgeirsson, 26, is devastated by the loss of his elder sister, well-known TV personality and fitness coach Svana Geirs, who was cruelly murdered two weeks ago in her downtown apartment,’” Gunna read out.
“‘Nothing has happened at all. There has been no progress by the police and they’ve hardly talked to us, let alone kept us up to date with what’s been going on,’ says a heartbroken Hogni Sigurgeirsson, who has taken extended leave from work to stay at home and comfort his grieving mother,” she continued. “The scheming bastard! It’s not as if he’s been even remotely helpful either. Who wrote this shit?” she demanded, looking at the double- page article for a byline and reaching for her phone.
She scrolled, punched the call button and listened to the phone ring until finally it clicked into life.
“Skuli? This is the law. Just seen your front page.”
“Me too. Nothing to do with me,” he said, and coughed. “So who wrote this crap?”
Skuli coughed again. “A freelance, I’d guess. I’ll ask and give you a buzz back.”
Gunna’s anger receded as she understood that the story wasn’t one of Skuli’s.
“All right, don’t worry too much about it, but I’d like to know where it came from. It looks like Hogni is telling the press stuff that he isn’t telling us, but still moaning because we haven’t caught the bastard who bumped Svana off.”
“Fair enough. I’ll email you when I’ve heard anything,” Skuli said, and rang off as he dissolved into yet more spluttering.
“And?” Eirikur asked.
“Don’t know. At least it wasn’t my tame journalist who wrote that shit. But it’s definitely time I had another talk with Hogni.”
EIRIKUR DISAPPEARED UPSTAIRS, anxious to check his emails, while Gunna wondered where Ivar Laxdal might be found and whether or not he actually had an office of his own. The man appeared to come and go at will, often turning up where his presence was not necessarily unwelcome, but was certainly uncomfortable.
“A result, Gunnhildur,” he rumbled behind her, and she turned to see him striding towards her with his arms full of ring binders.
“On what?” she asked, baffled for the moment.
