Chilled To The Bone Part 24

'Nope. Uniform are dealing with it. The guy'll be in hospital until tomorrow at least. Something for you to look forward to.'

'Oh, joy. Hoodlums fighting over a bit of dope, I expect. I'll see about it tomorrow. G'night.'

'Sleep well, Gunna,' Siggi replied, yawning again. 'Another four hours and I can go as well.'

Steini put down his book and clicked off the television. Gunna lay on the sofa, her eyes closed and with the reports she had promised herself she'd read in disarray on her chest. The place was blissfully quiet for once after an awkward few days with Drifa among them.

Gunna knew that the girl felt uncomfortable there, but guessed that the flat she was sharing in Reykjavik with a gaggle of first-year university students had also become less comfortable as her pregnancy progressed. Gunna had tried to probe gently and find out if Drifa intended to return to her parents in the Westfjords town of Vestureyri, but understandably the fear of small-town gossip and notoriety meant she had no desire to go home to her mother and stepfather. She wondered if the girl were waiting for Gisli to come home, but there were still more than three weeks left before he returned from sea the second to last trip he had planned before Soffia was due to give birth in April. Even more worryingly, Gunna wondered if Soffia would let Gisli back into the little flat they had rented in Kopavogur, raising the spectre that the lad might have to come home to his mother as an emergency measure.

Steini knelt next to her and lifted the papers, squaring them neatly and laying them on the table. Concern registered on his face as he saw Gunna frowning to herself in her sleep.

'Hey, sleepyhead.'

When there was no response, he stroked the tip of one finger down her cheek and was rewarded with a bleary eye opening.

'What time is it?'

'It's tomorrow, and some of us have to get up in the morning.'

'Tomorrow, as in after midnight?'

'Yup, coming to bed?'

Gunna yawned and lifted herself up on one elbow. 'Can't you just bring me a duvet and I'll go back to sleep here?'

'You're telling me to sleep alone?'

'You should be so lucky,' she said, swinging her feet to the ground. 'It's a cold night and I don't want to freeze to death before morning.' She yawned. 'Where are the girls?'

'Laufey's babysitting for Sigrun while she has a date with some new man, and Drifa went with her.'

'Steini, are you all right?' Gunna asked, noticing the more than usually serious expression on his face.

'Yeah, fine.'

'That doesn't sound convincing to me. What's the problem?'

Steini shifted from squatting uncomfortably to sitting on the floor. 'Well,' he said in an awkward tone.

'Well, what?'

'I was just wondering if I'm, y'know, up to the mark?'

Gunna wrinkled her forehead in incomprehension. 'What are you driving at?'

He cleared his throat awkwardly. 'You see, it's like this,' he said and paused, while Gunna looked expectant.

'For a man who normally gets straight to the point, you're not doing a great job.'

'All right, then. I was using your computer yesterday and I saw your browser history.'

'And what about it?'

'I couldn't help but see that you'd been looking through personal.is a lot. I'm just wondering if there's something going on that I should know about?'

Perplexed and still half asleep, Gunna realized Steini's predicament. 'Ah, you mean you're wondering if I'm up for a threesome or looking for a like-minded, discreet couple, or if I fancy trying out riding crops and leather underwear with studs on the inside?'

Steini coughed, embarra.s.sed for the first time since she'd known him. 'Well. Yes, I suppose that's what I'm asking.'

'In a good way or what?'

'You mean would I be interested in all that stuff? A threesome with a nineteen-year-old who waxes his chest or a h.o.r.n.y housewife from down the street? Actually, no. I was just wondering if there might be something I wasn't doing right.'

Gunna yawned, stretched and sat upright on the sofa. 'That's good, because if you were expecting an interest in fluffy pink handcuffs, then I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. My trawl through personal.is is purely work-related as that's where it seems a now-dead punter made his arrangements to meet a potential witness we're trying to track down. That's about it,' Gunna said, yawning. 'And that's about all I can tell you as well.'

She studied his reaction and was relieved that he didn't seem visibly disappointed.

'So we'll just keep to the old-fashioned way, shall we?' he asked.

'Ten minutes every other Sat.u.r.day night before I put my curlers in, you mean?'

'Yeah. Something like that,' he said with a grin and Gunna could hear relief in his voice, which he tried to conceal.

She stood up and looked at her watch. 'Well, as officially I don't have to be in at eight tomorrow, and Laufey's at Sigrun's place, we can give it a trial run if you feel like it.'

Steini's grin spread across his face. 'In ten minutes before the curlers go in? I should be able to manage that.'

Tuesday It took hours for the doctor to clean up Baddo's wound as best he could, lips pursed in concentration and frustration.

'It's going to be painful,' he said long after midnight when the job was done, pushing his gla.s.ses back up his nose with the back of his hand. The nurse who had a.s.sisted whispered in the doctor's ear and he nodded.

'It's going to leave you with something of a scar,' he told Baddo sorrowfully, who wanted to snap back that the guys in the boots and combats had probably been paid a decent wedge of cash to do just that.

'I know, doctor,' he sighed, his face stiff and numb with local anaesthetic. 'Looks like my catwalk days might be over, doesn't it?'

The doctor ignored the quip, although Baddo could see that it had been registered and wasn't appreciated. He stood up and looked down at him disapprovingly. 'I'd like to keep you in overnight for observation,' he said. 'And I believe there are a couple of police officers who would like a word with you.'

'It was an accident, doc. Honestly,' Baddo told him. 'I had the knife in my hand and fell down. It caught my face as I tried to break my fall,' he said.

'Yes,' the doctor replied absently. 'That's as may be,' he said, making it clear that he didn't believe a word of what Baddo was saying, 'but we have an obligation to report anything that could possibly be an injury with an edged weapon to the police and they'll be here to speak to you in a moment.'

The doctor left the room and Baddo stood up to get a look in a mirror for the first time.

's.h.i.t!'

The wound's ragged edges had been fixed together as well as possible with tape sutures and Baddo was shocked at how raw the cut looked, not least as part of his beard had been roughly shaved away to give access to it.

'If you'd like to come this way, Jon,' the nurse suggested as she put her face around the door, beckoning him to follow. Baddo heard a blast of laughter from down the corridor as a door quickly opened and closed, cutting it off abruptly. 'There are two police officers here to speak to you, but I'll get you bedded down and then I'll go and fetch them. All right?'

Baddo nodded, too numb and tired even to check out the nurse's figure as he followed her along the pa.s.sage, his leather jacket over his arm. He sniffed the musty air of the small room she showed him into.

'You can take a shower, but you might want to be careful of your face. The sutures won't come off, but you really don't want to get your face wet for a day or two,' she said, disappearing behind the door as it shut behind her, leaving Baddo alone.

He sat down on the crisp white bed, wondering how long he would be able to pretend to be Jon Danielsson, a name he had picked from the phone book, along with an address and a national ID number that he'd stored away, ready to reel off when needed. He quickly ran the ten digits over in his mind to ensure they were there, ready for use. Baddo wondered if he should just get into bed and be asleep before the cops arrived. He suddenly felt exhausted, as if he'd run a race, and the bed looked so inviting. But thinking back to the attack cleared his mind and the rekindled anger at being jumped by two thickheads made him want to punch the walls.

He took a final look in the mirror, grimaced at the sight of the ragged cut running along his jaw and made a decision. He slipped out of the room, being careful not to let the door slam. Baddo could hear the soles of his trainers squeaking on the floor, so he trod carefully as he pulled on his jacket. The place was quiet apart from a buzz of conversation from the staff room, from where he'd heard a gale of laughter earlier. He tiptoed past, catching sight of some police uniforms inside the half-open door.

He headed for where he reckoned the door should be, guided by instinct and a faint whiff of fresh air, but a rush of hurrying feet saw him smartly step to one side into a doorway as the doctor who'd treated him and two nurses hurried past in response to an unheard summons.

He emerged into a waiting area, which was empty but for two figures surrounded by white coats. Baddo watched and stopped himself from smiling. It hurt his face, but he couldn't help grinning at the sight of the heavy man in a blood-soaked pair of combat trousers being lifted onto a stretcher, clearly not far from losing consciousness, while his distraught friend looked on.

Baddo walked purposefully and quietly towards the entrance, where he turned and stood in the doorway. The victim's friend looked on helplessly as the big man was wheeled away at a smart pace. He sank into a seat where he buried his head in his hands for a moment. Baddo watched as the man looked up; he could see the tears in his eyes, followed by the shock of recognition as he saw Baddo looking at him with a malevolent gleam in his eye.

The man's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to shout, stopping only when he realized there was n.o.body present to shout to. He was unable to drop his eyes as Baddo put a finger to his throat, made a slow, deliberate cutting movement and pointed at the man transfixed in the plastic chair with shock all over his face.

Baddo turned and was gone into the night. As he walked quickly away from the hospital entrance and past a waiting taxi with its driver asleep behind the wheel, he felt a surge of fierce pleasure at having terrified one of the idiots who'd jumped him. He would have to take a taxi, but not somewhere so obvious, he thought, deciding to flag one down closer to town.

'What a beautiful morning,' Helgi observed as the very first glimmerings of daylight appeared, mirrored in the national hospital's windows. 'You weren't asleep when I called, were you?'

'Of course I was. What the h.e.l.l do you expect me to be doing at six thirty when I'm not due on shift until ten. What's it all about, then?'

Helgi grunted as he pushed through a heavy pair of swing doors. 'A dead stoner. Name of asmundur asuson. Record as long as your arm. A bit of strong-arm stuff, but mostly dope and petty thievery,' he explained, walking fast to keep up with Gunna's pace.

'You realize I've been to this hospital to see dead people more times than living ones? That's not great, is it? I know where the morgue is, but I couldn't find much else here without having to ask. What happened to this character?'

Helgi opened a second set of doors and the temperature dropped as they stepped into the mortuary.

'It's not so much this guy as his friend you'll be wanting a word with,' Helgi said, and turned as the doctor who'd been on duty that night came in. The fatigue in his face was plain.

'Not much to tell you, I'm afraid. You'll get the post-mortem results soon enough, but that's not my department,' he said with resigned distaste.

'You treated this man when he was admitted? When was that?'

'Just after two this morning. He appeared in casualty out of the blue. His friend brought him in a taxi, not an ambulance.'

'What happened to him?' Gunna asked.

The doctor jerked a thumb at a steel table with a sheet over it. He strode over to it and lifted one edge, exposing a thigh with a deep gash that extended out of sight behind the leg.

'That's the cause of death?'

The doctor shrugged. 'He left it too late. It looks like this happened some hours before he turned up here. A combination of shock and blood loss, probably some self-administered medication as well, and lights out,' he said, snapping his fingers. 'If he'd come in right away, we'd have st.i.tched him up, kept him in for a few days and he'd have had a limp but he'd still be alive.'

Gunna moved to the end of the table and lifted the sheet covering the man's head. She looked carefully but quickly, and shook her head as she let the sheet fall. 'Nope. Not someone I recognize. Helgi?'

'asi asu? Yeah. I remember him from my days in uniform. Never out of trouble. I'd be amazed if the post-mortem doesn't tell us he was buzzing merrily when he went.'

'And did anyone speak to him? Any idea of when and where this happened?'

'We got his name and ID number,' the doctor said, frowning. 'He wasn't properly conscious and we were more concerned with keeping him alive than getting his life history. Look, do you need me any more? I'd very much like to get out of here sooner rather than later.'

'Of course. Sorry, I didn't mean to imply that you should have questioned him. There were some police officers here last night, weren't there?'

'There were,' Helgi said. 'Tinna Sigvalds and Big Geiri were on duty and were called in to interview another suspected knife wound.'

'Then this gentleman turned up and things suddenly got very busy,' the doctor said. 'I saw to the other casualty as well and I gather the man in question discharged himself, even though we were going to keep him in for observation.'

'Someone else was cut?' Gunna asked and looked sideways at Helgi with a frown. 'Serious?'

The doctor scowled. 'Said he tripped with a knife in his hand, but that's bulls.h.i.t. Someone clearly cut the man's face with a double-loaded knife.'

Helgi looked blank. 'Double-loaded?'

'You've not heard of that? It's an ordinary carpet knife, but they put two blades in it instead of one. It's common enough in other countries, but it's the first time I've seen it here.'

'Why do they do that?'

The doctor sighed, as if losing patience with a child who's slow on the uptake. 'It means there are two cuts side by side. It's very difficult to st.i.tch and it leaves a much nastier scar.' A thin smile crossed his face. 'I don't suppose you'll have much of a problem finding him. His face is covered in tape sutures and there's a cut along his jaw and cheek this long,' he said, holding his thumb and forefinger to his face to indicate a four-inch gash.

'But I take it that as this guy wasn't in such a bad way you didn't get a name out of him?'

Joel Ingi's neck was stiff. He had been awake for hours, lying on the white sofa underneath an old duvet he had found in a cupboard in the spare room. He could have slept in the single bed in there, but he'd felt that sleeping on the sofa instead would help emphasize his disgruntlement at being excluded from sleeping with his wife under their twin crisp eiderdown duvets.

He lay wrapped in the scratchy old duvet, a relic of happy student days, and stared at the ceiling, wondering how long Agnes would sleep. Eventually he gave up and made for the shower, emerging twenty minutes later fresher and ready to try and repair the damage of the day before.

He gently pushed open the bedroom door and saw Agnes was still hunched in bed in a posture that indicated she had no intention of being disturbed. Joel Ingi dressed in silence, taking one of the sober suits he kept for the office. He could tell that Agnes was awake: the timbre of her breathing told him she was waiting for him to leave the room before she made a move herself.

He took his time, knowing it would irritate her, before taking a seat at the breakfast bar and putting a spoonful of honey into a mug of weak tea. His head felt heavy, as if the air were crackling with an approaching storm, and he thought back to the previous day.

What if he had been wrong? What if that nosy woman had lied? Maybe she wasn't being paid by Agnes to keep tabs on him? In that case, who had sent her? The horror of the idea flooded him and he found himself absently stirring his tea long after the honey had dissolved. He left his slices of toast, his appet.i.te gone, reminding himself that the d.a.m.ned laptop still needed to be located before either his work or his marriage could be satisfactory again.

'Good morning.' Her formal greeting was a rebuke in itself.

'Agnes. About yesterday,' he began, and felt sick at his own words. 'I'm sorry. It was a mistake. I've been under a lot of pressure.'

She shrugged and he could see her porcelain features set in the same suppressed anger as yesterday.

'I'm going away,' she said, dicing an apple with a razor of a kitchen knife. 'With Sunna and the children. Just so you know.'

'All right. When?'

'This afternoon.'

'Going for long?'

Joel Ingi watched, fascinated by the deft movements of the knife as a banana and slices of pineapple got the same treatment as the apple, before she replied.

'I'm not sure. I need a little s.p.a.ce.'