waiting for his flight from there to Kastrup, not when he landed from Reykjavik,” Ivar Laxdal explained patiently.
“If you want to fly to Denmark, there are direct flights all the time. Why go through the Faroes? It doesn’t make sense.”
“It does if you want to avoid the airport at Keflavik, where he would have been picked up like a shot,” Helgi pointed out. “But the only flights leaving the country from Reykjavik airport go to the Faroes, and I suppose he was travelling on Jonas Valur’s ticket. How much money did he have on him?”
A phone rang shrilly on a desk and Eirikur swept it up, speaking in an undertone as Ivar Laxdal continued.
“A hundred and ten thousand euros in cash and he’s saying nothing. Faroese customs took one look at him and decided he wasn’t Jonas Valur, then had a look in his baggage and found the cash. He refused to tell them who he really is and we got the identification from pictures of him that the Faroese police sent as soon as he couldn’t pretend to be anything other than Icelandic. Once we was realized who it was, we asked them to send him right back.”
“So he knocked you on the head, banged Jonas Valur a bit harder, grabbed the man’s car keys, suitcase, tickets and passport, and ran for it. Is that what you reckon, Gunna?” Helgi asked.
Gunna cradled her chin in her fingers. “It sounds plausible, doesn’t it? It also sounds like I was just in time to see what Jonas Valur was up to, if he had flight tickets and some pocket money on him. I don’t think he was coming back, y’know. Maybe I held him up long enough for Hogni to intercept him on his way out of the country for good. I assume they were oneway tickets that he had?”
“Sounds about right to me,” Eirikur interrupted, with the phone to his chest and the palm of one hand over the mouthpiece. “But you want some more news? Bjarki Steinsson has disappeared. His wife’s reported him missing, hasn’t seen him since last night. His car’s missing as well. Do we put out an alert for him?”
THE FAINT AROMA of something spicy hit her nostrils even before Gunna had left the car. It was late, and she felt exhausted by the tension of the long day. At the door she kicked off her shoes and left wet prints across the kitchen floor.
“H?, people,” she offered as Steini looked up from the book in front of him and Laufey acknowledged with the briefest of nods that her mother was home before turning her attention back to a TV sitcom.
“Good day?” Steini asked. “We thought you were only going to be an hour or two.”
“A bloody long one, and I’ve lost count of the number of people I’ve pissed off.”
“A successful day, then?” Steini grinned. “We kept some food for you. Chicken and stuff with it.”
“Spicy?”
“Oh yes.”
“Will I need a litre of milk to wash it down?”
“Not that hot.”
“That’s all right, then.”
Gunna heard the ten o’clock news start on the TV through the bathroom door just as the hot water had started to wash away the day’s aches. She emerged swathed in towels to find a steaming plate waiting for her and Laufey sitting at the kitchen table. Steini’s eyes were closed and the book had slipped down to his lap. Work seemed blessedly far away from Hvalvik, where only an occasional car could be heard in the distance to break the soft quiet.
“How was school?” Gunna asked.
“Not bad, same as usual. Mum, I had lunch at Sigrun’s today and she’s still so angry at Jorundur.”
“Well that’s understandable. It’s something that really knocks you sideways when that kind of trust is betrayed.”
Laufey nodded slowly. “Has that happened to you, Mum?” she asked quietly. “With Gisli’s dad?”
A shiver went down Gunna’s spine at the question she had expected for years, and she instinctively looked around to see if Steini were awake.
“Sort of. Gisli’s dad is a strange man and I haven’t seen him for years. Not since Gisli was about ten, I suppose. We never lived together, just were together for a little while, and didn’t get on all that well. So there was no real betrayal like Sigrun’s going through. It was a million times worse when we lost your father, sweetheart.”
“I think Gisli’s seen his dad recently.”
“You’re sure?” Gunna asked in sudden alarm, but warned herself to think rationally. “There’s no reason why he shouldn’t, and I suppose it’s something he ought to do. He’s a big lad now and doesn’t need to ask me for permission to do anything.”
Laufey yawned.
“You should be asleep soon, young lady,” Gunna observed. “Homework done, is it?”
“Yeah. Steini helped me with the maths. It’s easy when you know how, all those cosines and things,” she said, getting up and trying to stop herself yawning again.
“Put that in the dishwasher, would you?” Gunna said, handing her the plate and fork. “I need my bed as well.”
Laufey disappeared to her room and Gunna turned off the kitchen lights. In the living room, she looked down at Steini and leaned forward to place one fingertip gently on the end of his nose. His eyes opened and he looked up.
“I’m shattered, so I reckon it’s bedtime.”
“I don’t need telling twice,” he said, and smiled back.
In the darkness, Gunna stretched out, feeling her toes tingle as the fatigue drained out of them and Steini settled beside her with a sigh. Exploring fingers gently stroked her thigh and she stretched a hand to cover and encourage them when the phone on the floor beside the bed began to buzz and chirp.
“Hell!” she swore, fumbling for it in the darkness. “What?” she barked into it.
“Tucked up with Steini already, are you, you randy old cow?”
“Bjossi, always a pleasure to hear from you. Yes, I’m in bed and I’ve been on my feet since six.”
“Well you’d better get out of bed, darling. We’ve got someone out at the airport you might want a word with.”
“SO WHAT MADE you want to leave so suddenly right now, with so much money?” Gunna asked.
“Just trouble,” Bjarki Steinsson replied in a voice laden with despair that echoed in the bare interview room at Keflavik international airport. “Always more trouble. The phone calls and the texts.”
“What calls and texts?”
“Demanding money, more and more money. Threatening to tell Kristrun.”
“Who was this?”
“I don’t know.” He waved a hand towards the jacket hanging on the back of a chair. “Look in the pocket. You’ll see.”
Gunna gestured for Bjossi to look as Bjarki continued, speaking faster, his voice rising from a whisper to a more normal tone.
“Yesterday there was a text as well. So I thought, why bother? I’d just go. I have enough to live on. I was just going to walk away and leave whoever it is to tell Kristrun whatever he wants. I don’t care any more. The house and the business are all in her and the children’s names. She can keep the lot, all those stupid crystal knick- knacks and pictures that give you a headache. I’ve had enough.”
Behind her, Bjossi carefully unfolded a sheet of paper, typed with a dozen lines. Gunna saw with relief that he had put on gloves to read it. “Have you any idea where these demands were coming from?”
“Some man. I have no idea who. Just a phone number, nothing else.”
“And the note? How did that get to you? Post?”
“It was pushed under the windshield wiper of my car yesterday morning. I heard about Hallur and then Jonas Valur, and I decided that was all the warning I needed after I went to see Hallur in hospital yesterday.”
“What do you know about what happened to him?”
“Only that he would never have taken his own life, never,” he said with conviction. “Hallur always comes out smiling. He’s one of nature’s survivors.”
Gunna turned to Bjossi. “What is it?”
