Thin Ice: An Inspector Gunna Mystery (Gunnhildur Mystery Book 5) (29 page)

The picture of the big man at the filling station who had bought fuel with Erna Brandsen’s card was pinned to the wall and they all stared at it.

‘What’s this?’ Helgi asked. ‘It’s not the clearest picture I’ve seen. What’s it about, Eiríkur?’

‘It’s a one-year-old grey Skoda estate, four-wheel drive,’ he said, reading out the registration number. ‘I had this from traffic this afternoon. There’s a car rental off Dalvegur in Kópavogur called PK Cars, run by a guy called Páll Karlsson, hence the name.’

Gunna nodded, willing Eiríkur to get to the point. ‘Yes, and . . .?’

‘Páll Karlsson doesn’t do a lot of business during the winter and anyway, he was away on holiday in Greece. He got back last night, went to check on business this morning and found he’d been burgled. One car stolen, a grey Skoda. Whoever broke in took the keys and one car.’ He tapped the picture. ‘This guy. No dabs at the scene, but this has to be the mystery man from the hotel. It’s the only reported stolen car anywhere that matches.’

‘Of course,’ Gunna breathed. ‘And Dalvegur is walking distance from the Digranes church where he dumped Erna’s Explorer.’ She glanced up. ‘That’s fantastic, Eiríkur. We have the registration of the car he’s driving and I suppose you have an alert out?’

‘Did that right away.’

‘Good. Let’s hope he hasn’t unscrewed the plates and put some other ones on instead.’ Gunna turned to Helgi. ‘Any progress with Erna Brandsen?’

‘She’s nuts, I reckon.’ Helgi grunted. ‘And there’s something very odd about the relationship she has with her daughter.’

Gunna looked at her watch. ‘I have to go soon, so give me the bones of it, will you?’

‘All right. Erna and Tinna Lind have had a fairly rocky relationship over the past few years; they don’t agree on a lot, and it’s clear that Erna is deeply frustrated by her daughter’s attitude to practically everything, especially stuff like getting a proper job, settling down and all the stuff that young people are expected to do once they turn twenty.’

‘I’m not sure it’s still like it was when we were young, Helgi, but fair enough. I get the picture.’

‘So that’s the shape of it. They get on well on a fairly superficial day-to-day level, but beyond that pretty much everything turns into an argument.’

‘That sounds familiar,’ Gunna said and hoped Helgi hadn’t noticed. ‘Go on. Anything on the other man we don’t have a name for?’

‘Markús or Magnús, something like that. She says she’s not sure.’

‘A week together in the same place and she doesn’t know his name?’

‘I’m damned sure she does. She’s a very strange lady. She’s not giving me bullshit, but there’s a whole lot she’s leaving out.’

‘Such as?’

‘Tinna Lind and Markús, or Magnús, whichever he turns out to be. They’re screwing, apparently – it took a while to get that out of her – and she’s not happy about it.’

‘Which is maybe how Erna came to run for it alone?’

‘That’s what I’m thinking,’ Helgi said. ‘Some kind of Stockholm syndrome thing going on here?’

‘Which is why this guy’s identity would be so useful. His prints aren’t on file anywhere, so we can assume he’s either very smart or else he’s not your usual criminal type.’

‘Someone who got caught up in this by accident, maybe?’

‘Either that or someone very desperate.’

The table was spread with foil cartons. Tinna Lind handled chopsticks effortlessly, and by the time they had eaten their fill, Magni’s skill with them had improved enough for him to finish his chow mein. Össur stuck with a spoon.

Magni belched. ‘That was good. Maybe we should head for China?’

Tinna Lind shook her head. ‘No, China’s not a great idea. They’re too organized and we’d stand out too much. Thailand or Vietnam would be better. They’re both pretty chaotic and there are enough white faces that nobody would bother us much. Thai food’s nicer than Vietnamese, though,’ she added.

‘Sounds good to me. How about you, Össi? Where are you headed for?’

‘Not sure yet,’ Össur said, licking the unfamiliar flavours from his lips. ‘Spain, I guess.’

‘You’ve been there before, haven’t you?’

‘Of course.’

‘I hear North Korea’s lovely,’ Tinna Lind said.

‘Where’s that?’ Össur asked.

‘Next to South Korea.’

‘Duh.’

‘So what’s happening with this Rafn character, then?’ Magni broke in, sensing Össur’s rising irritation and frowning at Tinna Lind. ‘Is he going to fix us up with passports?’

‘I reckon so. He said to call at eight and he’d tell me then how long it takes.’

‘More to the point,’ Tinna Lind said, picking a few stray noodles up with her chopsticks. ‘Can we trust him?’

‘Rafn?’ Össur asked, as if the thought hadn’t occurred to him. ‘I don’t know.’

‘What’s this Rafn’s relationship with the old guy you two robbed? Are they mates? Will he hand you over to the old man – after he’s taken your money, of course?’

‘It’s a good question, Össi,’ Magni said.

‘They hate each other like poison, if you must know.’

‘They’re rivals?’ Tinna Lind asked. ‘How deep does that rivalry go? Rafn might be happy to make a bit of a profit from three passports and do the old man a bad turn at the same time. But how much would Alli have to offer Rafn for him to turn us all over to him? I mean,’ she said, putting down her chopsticks, ‘there must be a price on your head, Össur. But how much is that price?’

Magni looked from Össur to Tinna Lind and back. ‘She’s right, Össi. How much are you worth to Alli?’

‘Fuck knows. But it’s getting on for eight, so I’d better give Rafn a call.’

The sound of the door creaking open and the light by the door clicking on woke her up. A moment’s alarm subsided when Gunna realized that the double thump was Steini’s boots being dropped.

‘You all right, old man?’ she asked, craning her neck to look around and see his face, which was more lined than usual under its thatch of windblown hair. ‘Good day?’

‘That depends on your definition of good,’ he said, padding across the kitchen, his feet leaving damp prints on the tiles. ‘Let’s just say it’s been a busy day and leave it at that.’

‘You weren’t diving, were you?’

‘In this weather? Not a hope. I spent the afternoon helping Jens with that old bulldozer of his. It seems to be running now, but it’ll need a gearbox sooner or later.’

‘Hungry?’

‘Starving. I could eat a fairly respectable-sized horse and still ask for seconds.’

Gunna got to her feet and stretched, feeling guilty for having dozed off in front of the television.

‘Go and get yourself cleaned up, then. I’m hungry as well, but I was waiting for you.’

‘You’re going to cook?’ Steini asked, a smile playing at the corners of his eyes. ‘You’re sure?’

‘I haven’t quite forgotten how the grill works. Now get away with you, but be quick about it.’

Four pork chops, a bowl of pasta and a large tomato salad greeted Steini as he returned from the shower.

‘Anyone would think you’re after something,’ he said.

‘It works often enough for you, so I thought I’d give the same strategy a try.’

‘You will let me know if it works, won’t you?’ Steini hid a yawn. ‘Where’s Laufey? Not home alone, are we?’

‘Laufey’s babysitting for Gísli and Drífa for a few hours. Gísli said he’d bring her home around eleven.’

‘How’s the lad? Are you friends again?’

‘I hope so,’ Gunna said with a sigh. ‘We’ve never been at loggerheads over anything for this long before and it’s starting to hurt.’

Steini shrugged. ‘He’s a big lad now, time to make his own decisions. I’m sure your parents didn’t approve of everything you got up to when you were a good bit younger than Gísli.’

‘Ach, you’re right. He’s asked me if I’ll go to the hospital with him and see the old guy.’

‘What? Thorvaldur? How come?’

Gunna scowled. ‘He says Thorvaldur asked for me to come and see him. It’s at least twenty-five years since we last had a civil word to say to each other, and now he wants to be friends. I don’t get it.’ Gunna corrected herself. ‘That’s not quite right. I get it, I think. But I don’t like it.’

‘Maybe it’s more for Gísli’s sake than for his?’ Steini suggested gently. ‘If he really is on the way out, then perhaps he wants to make some kind of peace after all these years. It won’t do any harm to find out, will it?’

‘We’ll see. Anyway, I have an early start tomorrow. I’m going to Selfoss first thing to interview a witness who phoned in a lead I need to follow up. Then back to town from there, so we’ll see how much energy I have left after all that.’

Tinna Lind let herself drop forward to fold her hands on Magni’s chest, resting her chin on them.

‘Still excited?’ she asked.

‘You need to ask? Looking forward to being on our own somewhere there’s less chance of getting our collars felt any minute.’

Tinna Lind giggled. ‘That’s part of the fun. Don’t you find it exciting?’

‘It is,’ Magni admitted. ‘What I find less exciting is the prospect of a few years in Litla Hraun.’

‘They allow conjugal visits there, don’t they?’

‘Yeah, I think so. But I think you have to be properly married to get those.’

Magni ran his hands down her back until they cupped Tinna Lind’s buttocks and he rocked her gently back and forward.

‘I’m sure that could be arranged if things come to that,’ she purred. ‘If you’re asking, that is?’

‘That depends if you’re offering, doesn’t it?’

The wind-swept spray from the tops of the waves and the grey water of the harbour had an iron quality in the first of the daylight. Rafn shoved open the door of the harbour café and looked around at the tables occupied by men in blue or grey overalls talking in low voices or flipping through dog-eared newspapers.

He picked up a mug of coffee and a pastry and went over to the far corner, where Jón Egill hunched over the previous day’s paper.

‘G’day,’ he said as Rafn sat down and sipped his coffee. ‘Speak to Össi last night, did you?’

‘I did.’

‘And?’

‘I offered three passports for a million each. Legal and above board, complete with real names and ID numbers of people living somewhere on the east coast. Össi asked how much for one passport,’ he put down his coffee and cut his pastry into strips.

Jón Egill raised an eyebrow. ‘Meaning?’

Rafn shrugged. ‘Meaning I reckon he’s planning on dumping the other guy and the girl and going his own way.’

Jón Egill nodded and frowned. ‘You wouldn’t expect anything less of Össur Óskarsson, would you? Can we trust him? Should we have anything to do with this business, or would we be better off leaving them to sort out their own shit?’

‘You prefer to keep out of sight on this?’

‘I’ve had the law sniffing around once already and I’d prefer to keep my nose clean, but I can check on them discreetly. I can deal with Össi, although I could do with someone there to do the leg work.’

‘Beggi, I reckon,’ Rafn said. ‘Bergthór Stefánsson. He’s a smart character, and he’s not too young or too keen to show off. We’ll get him to keep a discreet eye on them, just in case.’

‘He’ll do. I’ll have a word. He’s a good guy and he’s clean.’

‘For the moment,’ Rafn grinned, and dropped his voice and his head lower, closer to Jón Egill’s face. ‘Listen. Alli was arrested yesterday, and so was Baldvin.’

‘For Árni Sigurvinsson’s murder?’ Jón Egill grunted. ‘That pair of amateurs should have known better. It stirs up the law and makes life difficult for everyone.’

‘You realize that if Alli goes away for a decent stretch, then the Undertakers have an opportunity to pick up most of his business?’

Jón Egill scratched his chin. ‘Yes,’ he said slowly. ‘The thought had occurred to me.’

‘So it seems to me we have a bunch of choices here. We can make a couple of million out of the passports easily enough, but that’s no great shakes.’ He tapped the table with a forefinger. ‘Alli comes to us and says he’s been rolled by Össur. That’s no big surprise. Össur’s practically pond life. It was always going to happen sooner or later.’

‘Go on,’ Jón Egill said, and looked up at a young man in blue overalls who made to sit at the far end of the same table. ‘Seat’s taken, pal,’ he said.

‘But there’s nobody there,’ the man protested.

‘I said, the seat’s taken,’ Jón Egill repeated, and caught the eye of a thickset man with a fluorescent jacket over his overalls, who stood up, patted the young man on the shoulder and pointed to another table. He winked at Jón Egill, who nodded back almost imperceptibly. ‘You were saying?’ he said.

‘Alli told me he’d been rolled for a hundred thousand.’

‘Euros or dollars?’

‘Euros. But if he’s saying a hundred thousand, I’d bet the real figure is at least three times that. You need more than a hundred thousand for white powder business on Alli’s scale. And that cash is out there somewhere.’

‘A hundred thousand Euros is fifteen million krónur, and it’s more than likely in that flat in Gardabær.’

‘Exactly. So we have a choice,’ Rafn mused. ‘We can bump Össi and his pals easily enough, grab the cash and either hang on to it or take a slice before we hand it back to Alli. Then we leave them to either Alli or the law to deal with, and whichever way that goes it’ll be messy. Or . . .’

‘Or, what?’ Jón Egill asked.

‘We have an opportunity to figure out what sort of outcome would suit us best. The other option would be to help them on their way, make sure they leave the country and that headcase Össi isn’t cluttering things up here. We supply three passports at a million each and watch them disappear out of the country with a stack of Alli’s working capital.’

‘Which leaves Alli up to his neck in the shit while we quietly move in and take over where he left off, you mean?’

* * *

‘Still asleep is he?’ Tinna Lind murmured as Magni returned from the shower, towelling his hair and beard dry.

‘Unless he can snore while he’s awake.’

‘When are we going to get rid of him?