Voices (23 page)

'And you've had customers at this hotel?'

'A few,' Stína said.

'And you've been working at this hotel?'

'I've never worked here.'

'I mean do you pick up the customers here or bring them over from town?'

'Whatever I please. They used to let me be here until Fatso threw me out'

'Why?'

Stína started itching under her breasts again and gave the spot a cautious rub. She winced and forced a smile at Erlendur, but clearly didn't feel particularly well.

'A girl I know went for a boob job that went wrong,' she said. 'Her tits are like empty bin liners'

'Do you really need all that breast?' Erlendur couldn't refrain from asking.

'Don't you like them?' she said, thrusting them forward but grimacing as she did. 'These stitches are killing me,' she groaned.

'Well, they are ... big,' Erlendur admitted.

'And straight off the shelf? Stína boasted.

Erlendur saw the hotel manager enter the bar with the head of reception and stride over to them in all his majesty. Looking around to make sure no one else was in the bar, he hissed at Stína when he was still a few metres away from her.

'Out! Get out, girl! This minute! Out of here!'

Stína looked over her shoulder at the hotel manager, then back at Erlendur and rolled her eyes.

'Christ,' she said.

'We don't want whores like you at this hotel!' the manager shouted.

He grabbed her as if to throw her out

'Leave me alone,' Stína said. 'I'm talking to this man here.'

'Watch her tits!' Erlendur shouted, not knowing what else to say. The hotel manager looked at him, dumbfounded. 'They're new,' Erlendur added by way of explanation.

He stood up, blocked the hotel manager's path and tried to push him away, but with little success. Stína did her utmost to protect her breasts, while the head of reception stood at a distance, watching the goings-on. Eventually he came to Erlendur's aid and they managed to shuffle the furious hotel manager out of reach of Stína.

'Everything ... she ... says about ... me is ... fucking lies!' he wheezed. The effort was almost too much for him; his face poured with sweat and he was panting for breath after the struggle.

'She hasn't said anything about you,' Erlendur said to calm him down.

'I want ... her ... to ... get out ... of here.' The hotel manager slumped down in a chair, took out his handkerchief and started mopping his face.

'Cool it, Fatso,' Stína said. 'He's a meat merchant, you know that?'

'A meat merchant?' Erlendur didn't immediately grasp the meaning.

'He takes a slice from all of us who work at this hotel,' Stína said.

'A slice?' Erlendur said.

'A slice. His commission! He takes a cut from us.'

'It's a lie!' the hotel manager shouted. 'Get out, you fucking whore!'

'He wanted more than half a share for himself and the head waiter,' Stína said as she carefully rearranged her breasts, 'and when I refused he told me to fuck off and never come back.'

'She's lying,' the hotel manager said, slightly calmer. 'I've always thrown those girls out, and her too. We don't want whores at this hotel.'

'The head waiter?' Erlendur said, visualising the thin moustache. Rósant, he thought the name was.

'Always thrown them out,' Stína snorted as she turned to Erlendur. 'He's the one who phones us. If he knows one of the guests is up for it or has money he phones to let us know and plants us in the bar. Says it makes the hotel more popular. They're conference guests and the like. Foreigners. Lonely old men. If there's a big conference on, he phones'

'Are there many of you?' Erlendur asked.

'A few of us run an escort service,' Stína said. 'Really high class.'

Stína gave the impression that she was not as proud of anything as being a prostitute, apart perhaps from her new breasts.

'They don't run a bloody escort service,' the manager said, breathing normally again. 'They hang around the hotel and try to hook guests and take them up to the rooms, and she's lying about me phoning them. You fucking bitch of a whore!'

Thinking it inadvisable to continue the conversation with Stína at the bar, Erlendur said he needed to borrow the head of receptions office for a moment – otherwise they could all go down to the police station and resume there. The hotel manager let out a groan and gave Stína the evil eye. Erlendur followed her out of the bar and into the office. The hotel manager stayed behind. All the wind seemed to have been knocked out of him, and he shooed the head of reception away when he went over to attend to him.

'She's lying, Erlendur,' he shouted after them. 'It's all a pack of lies!'

Erlendur sat down at the manager's desk while Stína stood and lit a cigarette, as if immune to the fact that smoking was prohibited throughout the hotel except conceivably at the bar.

'Did you know the doorman at this hotel?' Erlendur asked. 'Gudlaugur?'

'He was really nice. He collected Fatso's cut from us. And then he got killed.'

'He was—'

'Do you reckon Fatso killed him?' Stína interrupted. 'He's the biggest creep I know. Do you know why I'm not allowed at this shitty hotel of his any more?'

'No.'

'He didn't only want a cut from us girls, but, you know...'

'What?'

'Wanted us to do stuff for him too. Personal. You know...'

'And?'

'I refused. Put my foot down. Those rolls of fat on the bastard. He's gross. He could have killed Gudlaugur. I could see him doing that. I bet he sat on him.'

'But what was your relationship with Gudlaugur? Did you do things for him?'

'Never. He wasn't interested.'

'He certainly was,' Erlendur said, imagining Gudlaugur's corpse in his little room with his trousers round his ankles. 'I'm afraid he wasn't entirely uninterested.'

'He never took an interest in me anyway,' Stína said, carefully hitching up her breasts. 'And none of us girls'

'Is the head waiter in on this with the manager?'

'Rósant? Yeah.'

'What about the man from reception?'

'He doesn't want us. He doesn't want any tarts but the other two decide. The man from reception wants to get rid of Rósant, but Fatso makes too much money out of him.'

'Tell me something else. Do you ever chew tobacco? In a kind of gauze, like miniature teabags. People keep it under their lip. Pressed against the gums'

'Yuk, no,' Stína said. 'Are you crazy? I take really good care of my teeth.'

'Does anyone you know chew tobacco?'

'No.'

They said nothing more until Erlendur felt compelled to do a spot of moralising. He had Eva Lind in mind. How she had been caught up in drugs and surely went in for prostitution to pay for her habit, although it probably didn't take place at any of the finer hotels in the city. He thought what a terrible lot it was for a woman to sell her favours to any dirty old man whatever, wherever and whenever.

'Why are you doing this?' he asked, trying to conceal the tone of accusation in his voice. 'The silicon implants in your breasts. Sleeping with conference guests in hotel rooms. Why?'

'Eva Lind said you'd ask that too. Don't try to understand it,' Stína said, and stubbed her cigarette out on the floor, 'Don't even try.'

She happened to glance through the open door to the office and into the lobby, and saw Ösp walking by.

'Is Ösp still working here?' she said.

'Ösp? Do you know her?' Erlendur's mobile began ringing in his pocket.

'I thought she'd quit. I used to talk to her sometimes when I was here.'

'How did you know her?'

'We were just together in—'

'She wasn't whoring with you, was she?' Erlendur took out his mobile and was about to answer.

'No,' Stina said. 'She's not like her little brother.'

'Her brother?' Erlendur said. 'Has she got a brother?'

'He's a bigger tart than I am.'

23

Erlendur stared at Stína while he tried to puzzle out her comment about Ösp's brother. Stína dithered in front of him.

'What?' she said. 'What's wrong? Aren't you going to answer the phone?'

'Why did you think Ösp had quit?'

'It's just a shitty job.'

Erlendur answered his phone almost absent-mindedly.

'About time too,' Elínborg said down the line.

She and Sigurdur Óli had gone to Hafnarfjördur to bring Gudlaugur's sister in for questioning at the police station in Reykjavik, but she refused to go with them. When she asked for an explanation they refused to give one, and then she said she could not abandon her father in his wheelchair. They offered to provide a carer for him and also invited her to talk to a lawyer, who could be present, but she didn't seem to realise the seriousness of the matter. She would not entertain the notion of going to the police station, so Elínborg suggested a compromise, flatly against Sigurdur Óli's wishes. They would take her to Erlendur at the hotel and after he had talked to her they would decide the next move. She thought about it. On the verge of losing his patience, Sigurdur Óli was about to drag her off forcibly when she agreed. She phoned a neighbour who came round immediately, clearly accustomed to looking after the old man when needed. Then she began resisting again, which infuriated Sigurdur Óli.

'He's on his way to you with her,' Elínborg said over the telephone. 'He would have much preferred to have had her locked up. She kept asking us why we wanted to talk to her and wouldn't believe us when we said we didn't know. Why do you want to talk to her anyway?'

'She came to the hotel a few days before her brother was murdered but told us she hadn't seen him for decades. I want to know why she didn't tell us that, why she's lying. See the look on her face.'

'She might be rather peeved,' Elínborg said. 'Sigurdur Óli wasn't exactly pleased at the way she behaved.'

'What happened?'

'He'll tell you.'

Erlendur rang off.

'What do you mean, he's a bigger tart than you?' he said to Stína, who was peering into her bag and wondering whether she could be bothered to light another cigarette. 'Ösp's brother. What are you talking about?'

'Eh?'

'Ösp's brother. You said he was a bigger tart than you.'

'Ask her,' Stína said.

'I will, but I mean, what... he's her little brother, didn't you say?'

'Yes, and he's a... bye-bye, baby.'

'A bye-bye baby. You mean a...?'

'Bisexual.'

'And, does he prostitute himself?' Erlendur asked. 'Like you?'

'You bet. A junkie. There's always someone wanting to beat him up because he owes them money'

'And what about Ösp? How do you know her?'

'We were at school together. So was he. He's only a year younger than her. We're the same age. We were in the same class. She isn't that bright.' Stína pointed at her head. 'Not up there,' she said. 'Left school at fifteen. Failed the lot. I passed them all. Finished secondary school.'

Stína gave a broad smile.

Erlendur sized her up.

'I know you're my daughter's friend and you've been helpful,' he said, 'but you shouldn't go comparing yourself with Ösp. For a start, she doesn't have itchy stitches.'

Stína looked at him, still smiling out of one corner of her mouth, then walked out of the office without a word and through the lobby. On the way she swung her fur-collared coat over her, but now her motions lacked all dignity. She came face to face with Sigurdur Óli and Gudlaugur's sister as they entered the lobby, and Erlendur saw Sigurdur Óli goggle at Stína's breasts. He thought to himself that she must have got her money's worth after all.

The hotel manager stood nearby as if he had been waiting for Erlendur's meeting to finish. Ösp was standing by the lift and watched Stína leave the hotel. It was obvious that Ösp recognised her. When Stína walked past the head of reception who was sitting at his desk, he looked up and watched her go out through the door. He glanced over at the hotel manager who waddled off in the direction of the kitchen, and Ösp entered the lift, which closed behind her.

'What's behind all this tomfoolery, may I ask?' Erlendur heard Gudlaugur's sister say as she approached him. 'What's the meaning of such effrontery and rudeness?'

'Effrontery and rudeness?' Erlendur said in a quizzical voice. 'That doesn't sound familiar.'

'This man here,' the sister said, clearly unaware of Sigurdur Óli's name, 'this man has been rude to me and I demand an apology.'

'Out of the question,' Sigurdur Óli said.

'He pushed me and led me out of my home like a common criminal.'

'I handcuffed her,' Sigurdur Óli said. 'And I won't apologise. She can forget that. She called me plenty of names and Elínborg too, and she resisted. I want to lock her up. She was impeding a police officer in the execution of his duty.'

Stefanía Egilsdóttir looked at Erlendur and said nothing.

'I'm not accustomed to such treatment,' she said at last.

'Take her down the station,' Erlendur said to Sigurdur Óli. 'Put her in the cell next to Henry Wapshott. We'll talk to her tomorrow.' He looked at the woman. 'Or the day after.'

'You can't do this,' Stefanía said, and Erlendur could tell that she was severely taken aback. 'You have no reason to treat me like this. Why do you think you can throw me in prison? What have I done?'

'You've been lying,' Erlendur said. 'Goodbye.' And then to Sigurdur Óli, 'We'll be in touch.'

He turned away from them and set off in the direction the hotel manager had gone. Sigurdur Óli took Stefanía by the arm and was about to lead her away, but she stood rooted to the spot and stared at Erlendur's retreating back.

'All right,' she called after him. She tried to shake off Sigurdur Oli. 'This is not necessary,' she said. 'We can sit down and talk this over like human beings'

Erlendur stopped and turned around.

'My brother,' she said. 'Let's talk about my brother if you want. But I don't know what you'll gain by it'

They sat down in Gudlaugur's little room. She said she wanted to go there. Erlendur asked whether she had been there before and she denied it. When he asked whether she had not met her brother in all those years, she repeated what she had said before, that she had not been in contact with her brother. Erlendur was convinced that she was lying. That her business at the hotel five days before Gudlaugur's murder was in some way connected with him, not mere coincidence.

She looked at the poster of Shirley Temple in the role of the Little Princess without the slightest change of expression or word of comment. Opening the wardrobe, she saw his doorman's uniform. Finally she sat down on the only chair in the room, while Erlendur propped himself up against the wardrobe. Sigurdur Óli had meetings scheduled in Hafnarfjördur with more of Gudlaugur's old classmates and left when they went down to the basement.

'He died here,' the sister said without a hint of regret in her voice, and Erlendur wondered, just as he had at their first meeting, why this woman apparently lacked all feeling towards her brother.

'Stabbed through the heart,' Erlendur said. 'Probably with a knife from the kitchen,' he added. 'There is blood on the bed.'

'How sparse,' she said, looking around the room. 'That he should have lived here all those years. What was the man thinking of?'

'I was hoping you could help me with that one.'

She looked at him and said nothing.

'I don't know' Erlendur went on. He regarded it as ample. Some people can only live in a villa five hundred metres square. I understand that he benefited from living and working at the hotel. There were plenty of perks.'

'Have you found the murder weapon?' she asked.

'No, but perhaps something resembling it,' Erlendur said. Then he stopped and waited for her to speak, but she did not utter a word and a good while elapsed until she broke the silence.

'Why do you claim I'm lying to you?'

'I don't know how much of it is a lie but I do know that you're not telling me everything. You're not telling me the truth. But of course above all you're not telling me anything and I'm astonished at your and your father's reaction to Gudlaugur's death. It's as if he was nothing to do with you.'

She took a good long look at Erlendur, then seemed to make a decision.

'There were three years between us,' she said suddenly, 'and, young as I was, I still remember the first time they brought him home. One of my first memories in life, I expect. He was the apple of his father's eye from day one. Dad was always devoted to him and I think he had great things in mind for him from the very start. It didn't come of its own accord, as it should have done perhaps – our father always had something big planned for when Gudlaugur grew up.'

'What about you?' Erlendur asked. 'Didn't he see you as a genius?'

'He was always kind to me,' she said, 'but he worshipped Gudlaugur.'

'And drove him on until he broke down.'

'You want to have things simple,' she said 'Things rarely are. I would have thought that a man like you, a policeman, realised that.'

'I don't think this revolves around me,' Erlendur said.

'No,' she said. 'Of course not.'

'How did Gudlaugur end up alone and abandoned in this little room? Why did you hate him so much? I could conceivably understand your father's attitude if Gudlaugur cost him his health but I don't understand why you take such a harsh stand against him.'

'Cost him his health?' she said, looking at Erlendur in surprise.

'When he pushed him down the stairs,' Erlendur said. 'I've heard that story.'

'From whom?'

'That's not important. Is it true? Did he cripple your father?'

'I don't think that's any of your business.'

'Definitely not,' Erlendur said. 'Unless it concerns the investigation. Then I'm afraid it's more people's business than just you two.'

Saying nothing, Stefanía looked at the blood on the bed, while Erlendur pondered why she wanted to talk to him in the room where her brother had been murdered. He thought of asking her, but could not bring himself to.

'It can't always have been that way,' he said instead. 'The choirmaster told me you came to your brother's rescue when he lost his voice on stage. At some point you were friends. At some point he was your brother.'

'How do you know what happened? How did you dig that up? Who have you been talking to?'

'We're gathering information. People from Hafnarfjördur remember it well. You weren't totally indifferent to him then. When you were children.'

Stefanía remained silent.

'The whole thing was a nightmare,' she said at last. 'A terrible nightmare.'

*

In their house in Hafnarfjördur they spent the whole day excitedly looking forward to when he would sing at the cinema. She woke up early, made breakfast and thought about her mother, feeling that she had assumed that role in the household and was proud of it. Her father mentioned how helpful she was at looking after the two of them after her mother died. How grown-up and responsible she was in everything she did. Normally he never said anything about her. Ignored her. Always had.