Cold Comfort (45 page)

“Jónas said I was an idiot and if I thought he was going to hand over any money then I’d better think again. I told him I didn’t know what he was on about. He laughed when your mate hit the ground,” Högni said, looking at Gunna.

“Was Jónas Valur expecting someone else?” Helgi asked.

“How should I know?”

“I’m asking you. Could he have been expecting to see you?”

“No,” Högni said truculently. “Why?”

Helgi looked sideways at Gunna and raised an eyebrow, at which she nodded back.

“Jónas Valur was being blackmailed for a considerable amount of money, and you’re the most likely candidate. I believe that he refused to hand over the money in his suitcase when he saw it was you, so you attacked and killed him.”

“I didn’t!”

Högni pounded the table with the flat of his hand while the silent lawyer sitting next to him flinched and the uniformed officer by the door took half a step forward until a quick shake of the head from Gunna stopped him.

“So how was it, Högni?” Helgi asked quietly.

“He laughed at me, said I was a fool. He said the city wasn’t a place for people like me and I should go home to the country.” Högni’s eyes bulged with recalled anger as he carried on. “That bastard said Svana had got what was coming to her and he wasn’t going to hand over a penny. Then I got angry.”

His fists bunched into thick balls and trembled on the table. The officer at the door looked doubtful.

“So you and Svana were blackmailing Jónas Valur and your sister’s other men? And when Jónas Valur refused to pay up, you cracked his skull?”

“No! Nothing like that!” Högni howled. “What’s this blackmail shit about?”

“And Svana?”

“No! Svana’d never do anything like that.”

“She had every reason to, so she could cash in on these guys.”

Högni shook his head wildly. “No, it wasn’t like that. She was packing them in, going back on TV again with the fitness show. She wanted to get rid of them.”

“Why? Surely it was a profitable arrangement for her?”

“I don’t know. But she said that somebody had found out about it and had been stalking her, sending her texts. She said she just deleted them and never replied, but she wasn’t happy. She was edgy, bad-tempered.”

“So what happened when you had that argument with Jónas Valur?”

“I hit him and he fell down. So I ran for it.”

“But you took his car and luggage with you?”

He hung his head. “Yeah.”

“So you knew he had a flight booked and you decided to go instead when you saw all the money in the case?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you hit my colleague and Jónas Valur with?”

“A bit of wood. It was a chair leg once.”

“And where is it now?”

Högni lifted and dropped his shoulders. “Dunno. By the road somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Near the airport, I suppose.” He sighed. “What’s going to happen to me?” he asked, suddenly deflating and in a small voice.

“I’m sorry, that’s not for me to say. But this weapon you used, was it the same one you used to assault Hallur Hallbjörnsson when you tried to choke him?”

“Yeah.”

“And you fixed up the car so it would look like he had committed suicide?”

Högni nodded. “He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Helgi ignored the question and carried on. “And the same weapon you used on your sister in her flat?”

“No!”

This time Högni’s hands smacked hard on the table and he half rose from his seat.

“I never hurt Svana!” he yelled, his face going an even deeper shade of red, and the officer by the door took a step closer, ready to intervene.

“We have witnesses who have stated they saw the two of you having a serious argument outside Fit Club a few days before her death.”

“That was different!”

“Sit down,” Helgi instructed in a calm voice, but Högni continued to rap at the table with his fists and seemed ready to jump from his chair, unable to stay still.

“Sit down, please, Högni,” Gunna said quietly, speaking for the first time and looking squarely into his eyes. Högni gradually became less agitated and sank back into the chair as the officer at the door and the lawyer both visibly relaxed.

“I didn’t know it was you,” Högni mumbled.

“What do you mean?” Gunna asked.

“I didn’t know it was you there talking to that bastard Jónas Valur,” he repeated. “Otherwise I’d never have …” His voice tailed off as the lower half of his face disappeared into his chest and fat tears rolled down his cheeks. “I never hurt Svana. I just found her there and she wouldn’t wake up.”

• • •

H
ELGI AND GUNNA
walked to the canteen and sat in silence in the deserted room over mugs that steamed in front of them.

“That was an ordeal, wasn’t it?” Helgi said eventually, breaking the silence.

“Right enough.”

“D’you think he did his sister in?”

Gunna shook her head. “No.”

“So who was it? Gulli Ólafs, maybe? I have to admit I can’t understand where these people get the energy for all that sex. That Svana must have been like a machine,” Helgi said appreciatively.

“Not Gulli Ólafs. He didn’t have enough of a motive. Svana would really have been more use to him alive. I’ll bet you any money he was the one on her tail. We’ll see what the search at his home and office turn up. If there’s a phone with a number that ties up with the SMS messages that Svana, Bjarki and anyone else had been receiving, then we have him bang to rights,” Gunna said with a yawn.

“So who was it? It could have been any of the Svana Syndicate apart from Bjartmar.”

“We’ll see,” Gunna said and pulled herself upright. “Will you carry on with Högni? I have to go over to the hospital.”

T
HE SAME DOCTOR
who had attended to Gunna’s bruises a few days earlier was on duty.

“Basically the man’s had a nervous breakdown,” he said laconically, stretching his legs out in front of him during what was clearly a long-awaited opportunity to sit down. “It’s a combination of stress, acute anxiety and depression. He needs some long-term recuperation and that’s not going to happen here, I’m afraid.”

“No?”

“We don’t have the resources these days. Endless cutbacks being pushed through right now. You’re a public servant. Surely you’re seeing all this as well?”

“Hell, yes. There’s a block on recruitment unless it’s absolutely essential, and even then you have to fight tooth and nail. As for equipment, it’s a nightmare. Anyway, Bjarki Steinsson. What’s his condition?”

“Physically he’s as fine as a non-smoking middle-aged man who takes minimal exercise is likely to be. Mentally it’s hard to say, and I’m not a specialist.”

“I really need to speak to him.”

The doctor looked pensive and wrinkled his nose doubtfully. “I’d prefer it if he could be left in peace to recuperate for a few days.”

“This isn’t something trivial, I’m afraid. This is a murder case. Two people dead and another victim in here as well.”

“Good grief, who’s that?” the doctor asked with a sharp intake of breath.

“Hallur Hallbjörnsson.”

“What? The MP who tried to commit suicide?”

“That’s him, only it seems it wasn’t suicide and I need Bjarki Steinsson to shed some light on it.”

The doctor tapped the top of the cluttered coffee table. “All right, but I think it would be best if I could sit in. I’ll have to call a halt if he gets overstressed.”

The corridors were quiet, and music played softly somewhere distant as they walked towards Bjarki’s room.

“His wife’s been with him,” the doctor said. “She’s been there practically since he was brought in.”

“And I don’t suppose she’s helping much towards his recovery.”

“Really? Why’s that?”

“She’s not the most pleasant of people,” Gunna said as the doctor knocked and eased the door open.

“Bjarki, a visitor for you,” he said, a kindly bedside manner clicking into place automatically.

“Who is it?” Gunna heard Kristrún’s frosty voice ask. “The police again,” she said in a flat tone, answering her own question as she caught sight of Gunna.

“Hello, Bjarki,” Gunna said gently. “Feeling any better? I need a quiet chat if you don’t mind.”

“I really think—” Kristrún began.

“If you’d like to leave us for a quarter of an hour, I’d appreciate it,” Gunna said firmly.

“I don’t think—”

“Fifteen minutes will be enough.”

Kristrún stalked from the room and Bjarki looked gratefully up at Gunna from the deep chair where he sat swathed in a blanket.

“I really need you to tell me the rest of the story, Bjarki,” Gunna said, keeping her voice soft and taking a seat next to him. She saw with alarm how wretched he looked and watched as he twisted his fingers constantly. “What really happened at that meeting the three of you had the night before Svana died?”

“We had an argument,” Bjarki said eventually. “It wasn’t very pleasant.”

He fell silent and looked down at his fingers, pale against the dark wool blanket. “Svana wanted to end it. Jónas Valur and Bjartmar didn’t care.”

“The meeting?” Gunna prodded.

“We had all been getting these threats and demands. I don’t know how whoever it was knew who we were. But it was worst for me and for Hallur. We both had so much to lose, especially Hallur with his career in Parliament just starting.”

His hands trembled and his eyes stared out at her. “I’m sure you couldn’t understand how distressing it all was. Jónas Valur is a hard man. He said he didn’t care about publicity, but if we were concerned, then we should do something about it. He called Bjartmar in the States and told him what he’d told us, that it was our problem, mine and Hallur’s. Jónas Valur is divorced. Bjartmar was estranged from his wife anyway. Such a shame, a lovely young woman.” His dry voice fell silent as he reached for a glass of water that shook and threatened to spill as he lifted it to his lips and sipped.

“So Jónas Valur said that it was your problem—yours and Hallur’s?”

“Yes. That was it.”

“What did you decide to do?”

A look of discomfort passed over Bjarki’s face, and Gunna wondered if he was going to cry again.

“Hallur said he would talk to Svana.”

“To reach a settlement?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “Hallur thought the demands were coming from Svana and some journalist he said had been sniffing around her. I told him I didn’t believe it.”

“When was this?”

“I saw him.”

“You saw Hallur when?”

Bjarki gulped and his eyes misted over.

“The day she died,” he said with an effort. “It was the day she died. I was there in the morning to …”

He paused and swallowed, reaching for the water glass again. “I was there in the morning. I never stayed overnight with Svana. We met mostly during the day. Often we’d meet at her flat in the mornings for a few hours, when it was easiest for me to get away from the office. We’d have breakfast and then …”

“And the day she died?”

“I left her flat around eleven. She was still in bed and said she was going to sleep for another hour before going back to the gym. I went to the bakery on the corner to get some pastries to take back to the office, and I saw Hallur go into the building.”

His eyes focused on something far distant, outside the little room. “Did Hallur tell you what happened?”

Bjarki Steinsson snapped back to reality and he looked up at Gunna with desperation in his eyes. “He told me that they’d argued. Svana denied anything to do with trying to blackmail anyone. He said they had a furious argument … That’s all he’d say.”

His voice tailed off and he twisted the fingers of one hand frantically in the other as the doctor looked at Gunna and pursed his lips in concern.

“And what happened?”

“I don’t know. I mean, I can’t be sure. But Hallur can have a terrible temper sometimes.” He paused. “I think it was Hallur. I know it was. He lost his temper and I think he hit her without knowing what he was doing.” He lapsed into silence. After a few moments his shoulders began to shake until he finally drew breath and leaned back to stare at the ceiling.

“I think that’s going to have to be enough,” the doctor decided, pressing a button on the wall to summon a nurse.

“G
UNNHILDUR. I CAME
to see you a couple of times before. Do you remember?”

They were outside in the hospital’s grounds, enjoying some unexpected sunshine that had finally bullied its way through the last of the inkblot clouds. Hallur stared down at his hands, which were fiddling with a tattered magazine. Gunna could see a deep frown furrowing his brow. His face cleared and he shook his head as if trying to dislodge something stuck in his mind.

“I’m not sure, but I think so …”

“I want to ask you about a friend of yours. Her name’s Svana. What can you tell me about her?”

This time Hallur’s face lit up, then rapidly darkened. “Svana …”

“When did you last see Svana?”

“I don’t remember,” he said finally. “Before I came here.”

“Do you recall going to her flat?”

Hallur nodded slowly with a thoughtful look on his face.

“I used to visit her sometimes,” he said, and grinned to himself.

“But you don’t remember having an argument with her?”

He looked blankly back at Gunna. “With Svana? No. I don’t think so.”

“What did you do when you went to visit Svana?”

“We had a lot of fun.”

“What sort of fun?”

“You know,” he replied with a sly smile. “Bedroom fun.”

Gunna took a few paces forward and Hallur followed. “I want you to think back very carefully. Do you remember anything of the day you were injured?”

“I was at home and then I was here.”

“Do you remember what you were doing that day?”

“Stuff at home, I think. Nothing special.”

“Did someone come to the door?”

Hallur sighed in exasperation. “I want to remember but I can’t. It’s not there in my head.”

Gunna turned quickly to face him and found herself looking into confused eyes that suddenly stared innocently back at her. She was certain that she had seen a rapidly concealed spark of cunning.

“All right. That’ll do. I don’t think I need to ask any more questions, at least not right now,” she said, cupping his elbow in her hand to lead him back to the building. “I think Helena Rós is here to take care of you,” she said, looking across at him, and was pleased to see a spark of irritation appear in those captivating brown eyes. “Who knows? Maybe you’ll soon be well enough to go home with her?”