Cold Steal (38 page)

Orri rubbed his eyes as Gunna flipped the peephole cover to wink at him. The warder opened the door.

‘You don’t need to lock us in,’ Gunna said as the door swung to behind her. ‘Orri’s not going to do anything stupid.’

Orri sat up with the duvet wrapped around him and blinked.

‘Been in here before have you?’ Gunna asked. ‘Breakfast will be along in a minute.’

‘I’m going to Litla Hraun today, am I?’

‘I expect so. You’ve not been there before?’

Orri snorted through his nose and rubbed his eyes.

‘I have, actually. Visited both my parents there at one time or another. Not at the same time,’ he added. ‘But I’ve never been a prisoner, if that’s what you mean.’

‘You’ll be all right. Keep your nose clean and I don’t suppose you’ll be there long.’ Gunna sat down on the bunk next to him. ‘Now, before the lawyers turn up and before my colleagues get here, strictly between you and me,’ she said. ‘You have something to tell me.’

‘Yeah,’ Orri said slowly. ‘I’ve been thinking about it all night.’

‘And you still want to talk? It’s up to you.’

‘Will it help my case?’

‘I can’t say, and it depends what you want to tell me. But I don’t imagine it would do any harm.’

‘Right,’ Orri said and yawned. ‘Is there any coffee?’

‘On the way. You’re the notorious Reykjavík housebreaker, aren’t you?’

‘Could be.’

‘Come on. If you’re going to play hard to get, then I’m wasting my time.’

‘Yeah,’ Orri grunted. ‘That’s me. Been doing it about two years now.’

‘You’ve not done a bad job of it. No prints, no traces. You’ve been very careful, haven’t you? But you realize your career’s at an end now?’

Orri looked blank.

‘My colleague Sævaldur has been running around the city like a headless chicken for the last year trying to track you down. So you can bet your last penny that whenever there’s a burglary in the next ten years, he’ll be knocking on your door. You broke in at Kópavogsbakki fifty. What happened? Where did the blood come from?’

‘I was taken by surprise,’ Orri said slowly. ‘There was someone there with a gun. I was tied up and questioned. Honestly, I thought they were going to kill me.’

‘Was this one person?’

‘I think it was two. I can’t be sure. One of them did the talking, in English. Then I could hear them muttering to each other, so I guess there were two of them.’

‘Did you see either of them?’

‘No.’ Orri hesitated. ‘I just heard the voice, that’s all.’

‘Nothing that could identify these people?’

‘Just a voice in English, with an accent. He didn’t sound like he was English or American.’

‘Russian? Scandinavian? An Icelander, maybe?’

‘Could be. I couldn’t tell.’

‘And what was this questioning all about.’

‘They wanted me to work for them,’ he muttered.

‘Work for them? In what way?’

‘Breaking into places and planting bugging devices.’

‘Good grief? And they paid you for this?’

‘No, of course not,’ Orri lied. ‘But they told me they knew where I live, where Lísa lives and where my sister and her kids live, so I didn’t dare say no. Now I’ve told you, and if they find out we’re all going to need protection.’

‘Where did you plant bugs?’

‘There was an office in Kópavogur, near Hamraborg. I can’t remember what it’s called, but I could find it. There was a house in the Thingholt district and there was that bikers’ place in Gardabær.’

‘They wanted a bug in the Undertakers’ clubhouse? You’re kidding.’

Orri shrugged. ‘It’s there. It’s hidden in the electrical conduit in their boardroom.’

‘That’s all?’

‘No. There was a place up past Mosfellsbær, a farm of some kind. I don’t know what it is, but it’s out in the country.’

‘Vison?’

‘I don’t know. I put a bug in the office ceiling there. There were a whole lot of metal cages in the long room there.’

The door swung open and a warder walked in carrying a tray.

‘Breakfast,’ he announced, handing it to Orri, who placed it on his knees, still keeping the duvet wrapped around him like a cloak.

‘And definitely no idea who these guys are?’ Gunna asked as Orri sipped his coffee.

He shook his head. ‘Well,’ he said after a moment.

‘Well, what?’

‘I think I saw one of them, but I’m not sure, a day or two before.’

‘Where? At the same house?’

‘No, further up the street. The one where the dentist lives.’

‘How do you know it’s the dentist’s house?’ Gunna asked.

‘I do my homework carefully,’ Orri replied. ‘They live at Kópavogsbakki forty-two and own a couple more houses in the same street. I saw a man go in there who definitely wasn’t the dentist, and I was there again later and the same guy was screwing the dentist’s wife up against the wall.’

Gunna fumbled in her coat pocket and came up with the photograph of the hook-nosed man.

‘Him?’

‘That’s the guy,’ Orri said with the first hint of a smile on his morose face. ‘But listen, you didn’t hear any of this from me, and if you ask about it again, I’ll deny every word.’ He tapped the photograph with one finger. ‘Unless that guy’s locked up as well.’

Jóhann hung on for dear life, his arms wrapped around Helga Dís, pressing himself close to her as they shuddered and vibrated.

‘All right, are you?’ she yelled.

He could only nod his head in reply. His arms were still weak. Sitting on the back of the quad bike, he held on tight as the wheels transmitted every pothole and lump in the road straight through his spine to the back of his head. He sighed with relief as the bike finally hit the main road and he could see cars and signs of civilization around him.

Helga Dís seemed to drive more slowly on the better roads, but he decided that had to be an illusion. He recognized the hills, and with relief realized that Borgarnes was closer than he’d imagined. As they by-passed the cluster of shops and filling stations, the rain began to come down hard, drops bouncing off the visor of the helmet he had borrowed from Bjarni as they rolled into the town.

‘I’d better come in with you,’ Helga Dís said, looking behind her when they stopped outside the police station.

Jóhann dismounted stiffly and she helped him off with the helmet. Helga Dís carried both helmets in one hand and took his arm with the other, supporting him through the door. Jóhann was surprised and frustrated at how weak he was after his experience. He wanted to sit down but leaned instead against the reception desk.

‘Good morning, Unnur,’ Helga Dís greeted the officer manning the station. ‘I’ve brought someone to see you.’

Unnur took off her glasses and looked at them. ‘Good morning, Helga. You’re about early.’ She looked Jóhann up and down. ‘And who might you be?’ she asked.

‘My name is Jóhann Hjálmarsson and I believe you might be looking for me,’ he said with an effort.

‘Tell me about your relationship with Boris Vadluga.’

‘That was Vilhelm and Elvar,’ Sunna María said stiffly. ‘We were sleeping partners, Jóhann and I.’

‘But still partners. You were directors of Sólfell Investment. Mr Vadluga could hardly have been happy when his money went up in smoke.’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t get involved.’

‘You’re a director, so you’re involved. Not reading the small print doesn’t absolve you of any responsibility.’

‘Is this going to take long?’

‘It’ll take as long as it takes, and my colleague from financial crime would like to speak to you as well. Of course, you’re free to leave at any time,’ Gunna said, folding her arms, and Sunna María instantly scraped her chair back across the floor. ‘But then we might have to look at other options, and if you decline to co-operate it won’t reflect well when we find ourselves in court.’

‘When? You mean if.’

‘When,’ Gunna assured her. ‘Two people dead? If it doesn’t come to court, then something’s seriously wrong, I’d say.’ She laid the photocopy of the hook-nosed man’s driving licence on the table between them. ‘It’s a faked licence, naturally. I’d be interested to know this man’s real name.’

‘I have no idea. I told you that before and I’m getting tired of telling you this.’

‘You’re absolutely sure you’ve never seen this man?’

‘Yes, yes,’ Sunna María repeated. ‘I don’t know him.’

‘Now that’s odd,’ Gunna said softly. ‘This is the man I suspect may have abducted and possibly murdered your husband, and I have a witness who has seen him in your company. On one of those occasions under circumstances that would indicate you’re quite intimately acquainted with him.’

Sunna María opened her mouth and closed it again.

‘In that case, there has to be some mistake,’ she said finally. ‘It happens, I’m sure.’

‘He and another man were living at Kópavogsbakki fifty until recently.’

‘We have nothing to do with the letting. Óttar Sveinsson handles everything.’

‘Óttar told me you knew this man. How do you explain that? And how come the basement of Kópavogsbakki fifty had been painted? Surely that’s the letting agent’s job, but Óttar said he had no idea that the place had been painted.’

Sunna María’s face twisted into something that was a long way from a smile but was clearly supposed to be one.

‘You’ll have to ask the tenant that, won’t you?’

The squad car emerged into the daylight and Unnur Matthíasdóttir brought it to a halt in the lay-by outside the Hvalfjördur Tunnel’s southern exit. Reykjavík could be seen dimly in the distance across the bay beneath scudding spring clouds. She got out of the car and went round to open the door for Jóhann, helping him out as Eiríkur hurried across from his own car.

‘Jóhann? Eiríkur Thór Jónsson from CID,’ he said. ‘You have no idea how pleased I am to see you in one piece.’

‘Thank you,’ Jóhann said with tears in his eyes, bewildered by the attention he was getting. ‘I’d just like a lift home, if you don’t mind.’

Eiríkur helped him into the Polo and shut the door. He saw Jóhann huddle into his borrowed coat and reach forward to turn up the heater.

‘What’s the story?’

‘To be honest, I don’t know. The lady who brought him in has her sheep and horses miles up in the highlands at a place called Geirsmörk,’ Unnur said. ‘She and her father had been up there for a few days and they stumbled across this guy in the road the night before last; they took him back to the chalet they have up there and warmed him up. She said he was too weak to be moved yesterday. It seems he was at a place called Vatnsendi, which has been abandoned for at least fifty years. How he got up there, who knows?’

‘How is he?’

‘He’s very weak. I wanted to take him to hospital, but he wouldn’t hear of it and wanted to go straight home. We had already had an alert about this man, so I called and here you are.’

‘Thanks. We’d more or less written him off.’

‘Did he walk out, or what?’

‘It seems he was abducted. Hopefully he can tell us how he managed to get to somewhere that far up country. Have you asked him any questions?’

‘Only to make sure he was feeling all right and wasn’t going to have a seizure on the way. So now he’s all yours,’ Unnur said with a bright smile.

‘Thank you,’ Eiríkur said. ‘I’d best get him to Reykjavík and we’ll see if we can work out what happened to him.’

‘Are you telling me my wife may have had something to do with this?’

Jóhann’s eyes were wide. Anger and surprise made his voice lift in pitch. Gunna could see that both of his hands trembled. A drip had been put into one arm below where the borrowed shirt that was several sizes too big for him had been rolled up high above a skinny forearm.

‘We don’t know, but for the moment I really don’t want anyone to know that you’re alive and well.’

‘I see,’ he said, subsiding thoughtfully. ‘What’s today? Thursday? Is it almost a week?’

‘What happened last Friday morning? Tell me every detail you can remember.’

His brows knitted. ‘It’s hazy,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve been trying for days to remember everything.’

‘It’s important,’ Gunna reminded him.

‘You don’t need to tell me that,’ he shot back in irritation. ‘I had a message asking for a meeting at the old Sólfell offices at twelve.’

‘How? Email or text?’

‘Email, I think. I’d have to check my computer. But it was no problem, so I got a taxi up there.’

‘That fits. I traced you that far. Who were you going to meet?’

‘So I went up to the office on the eighth floor. I can’t remember. It might have been Óttar or one of the property managers.’

‘Óttar Sveinsson?’

‘Yes. His company leases our property and Sólfell also rented its offices through him. But I can’t be sure. It might have been one of his staff. So when I got there the place was open and there was someone there I didn’t recognize, but he said his name was Boris.’

‘Boris Vadluga? The man you were in partnership with?’

‘That’s him. Well, I was surprised.’

‘You had never met Boris Vadluga?’

‘No, we’d spoken on the phone a few times, but Sunna María saw to all that business with Vilhelm and Elvar. All I did was sign the accounts once a year.’

Gunna took a photo from her folder of notes. ‘This man?’

‘Who’s this?’

‘This is Boris Vadluga.’

‘Definitely not him. This fellow was older, I thought.’

‘This man?’

The driving licence photograph was indistinct, but Jóhann almost jumped from his chair when he saw it. ‘That’s the man! I’d recognize him anywhere,’ he squeaked and calmed down quickly, his breathing laboured. ‘If that’s not Boris, who is it?’

‘That’s just what we’d like to know as well. So what happened?’

‘We chatted, had a coffee. He was clearing stuff out of the office since the company had folded.’

‘Didn’t you find that strange?’ Gunna asked. ‘Wasn’t it odd that he should be doing something like that himself. Wasn’t it odd that he should be in Iceland at all?’

‘I did find it very unusual, but he said something about being here on other business. Then I started to feel very strange, unsteady on my feet. It was as if I knew there was something very wrong but couldn’t do anything about it.’