Chilled To The Bone Part 9

'AEi, Agnes, what's the matter with you tonight?' he snapped as his phone tinkled.

Agnes's face set like a rock and she sat bolt upright, straightening the cardigan that had begun to come adrift.

'There's nothing the matter with me,' she said harshly. 'I'm not the one who's grouchy and uptight. I'm not the one who's waiting for someone to call,' she spat and stood up. Joel Ingi heard her footsteps on the iron spiral staircase that led down to the flat from their cosy TV attic. Then the bathroom door slammed and he heard the sound of water running as his phone tinkled again. He scanned the message on the screen, frowned and sent a quick reply before sighing to himself and wondering how long it would be before Agnes deigned to speak to him again. Occasionally it was a relief to have her in a foul mood. At least that way Joel Ingi knew where he stood.

He could hear the m.u.f.fled roar of the shower running at full blast as he sprawled on the sofa, twisting his phone in his hands and wondering whether or not to call. He picked up the TV remote, flicked through a dozen channels and frowned at the lightweight satellite dross on offer everywhere, before scrolling through the list of numbers on his phone and selecting Hinrick. He pressed 'call', then immediately cancelled it, frowning to himself with one eye on the TV before deciding to call after all.

'Hae. It's me.'

'So I see.'

Joel Ingi could hear music in the background that practically drowned out the voice. 'Anything yet?' he asked.

'I told you yesterday,' Hinrik drawled, and from the self-satisfied sound of his voice, Joel Ingi imagined him lying on a leather sofa being administered to by gangster's molls of every description. 'I told you yesterday that my best guy is dealing with this. When there's something to tell, you'll be the first to hear it, my friend.'

'All right. Just wanted to be sure. After all . . .'

'After all, this is costing you a lot of money and you want results. That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?' Hinrik asked, his tone suddenly harsh.

'No. Not at all.' Joel Ingi said, fl.u.s.tered by the change of direction.

'That's all right then,' Hinrik said, softly this time. 'The job's being done. Now leave me alone to get on with it, will you?'

Joel Ingi found himself looking at his phone, the connection having been abruptly terminated. He tossed it onto the sofa and looked out of the small skylight that provided a view of city roofs, as long as you stood on tiptoe.

'I'm going to bed.' He turned and saw Agnes, her pale shoulders bare above the towel wrapped around her and her hair dripping as she looked into the TV attic from halfway up the stairs. 'You coming, or are you going to stay up there all night making secret phone calls?'

'Agnes, I'm just . . .' he fumbled, but she had already gone and this time the bedroom door slammed.

It had been too long, Baddo flexed his shoulders and surveyed the bar from a vantage point at one end that let him see the door and, more importantly, who came through it. The music throbbed and it irritated him, this poppy youngsters' music that was all computers and drum machines. There was no soul to it, no feeling. A bunch of sweaty guys with guitars in a smoky club, that's music, he thought, not this factory s.h.i.t. But h.e.l.l, the place was busy enough and it was time for a man to iron out the creases after a long time away.

He sipped his beer, determined to make it last. The f.u.c.king price of it these days! Not that the price of beer alone had prompted him to leave the country when he did. Baddo reflected that it had been the right thing to do, even though it hadn't ended well. He could have stayed, he thought, faced them down, and all that unpleasantness would have been ancient history by now.

A couple of likely looking women were positioned here and there, one not too far away. Baddo returned to his thoughts, not that he made a habit of picking over the past, but seeing Maria again brought so much back.

He looked over at the woman nearest to him; she was a few feet away along the bar, trying to get the barman's attention. Decent figure, he reckoned, not too tall and no stick insect. Blonde a natural one as far as he could make out although maybe a little faded as middle age approached. Nicely dressed but not flashy. A few miles on the clock, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing. He sensed that she was about to look his way and averted his eyes, looking back in her direction just as she frowned in irritation as the barman again served someone else.

'Hey, Andri!' Baddo called in a tone that was gruff but carried in spite of the hum of noise. It was a voice that commanded attention and the barman looked up smartly at the hard-looking character he'd seen drinking with Hinrik a few times, a questioning look on his face.

'Lady here needs serving,' Baddo said sharply, and Andri was in front of her in a moment, his original customer angrily bewildered at being abandoned.

'Thanks for that. I feel I owe you a drink,' the woman said, appearing at his side ten minutes later, her group of friends at a table in the far corner forgotten.

Don't be too keen, he told himself. 'You're welcome. I don't like to see someone without a drink for too long.'

She smiled. Strong teeth, lines at the corners of her mouth, sharp blue eyes. She put out a hand. 'I'm Ebba. Pleased to meet you.'

'Baddo.'

'I'll get you that drink if you'll make sure the barman gets here.'

This time Baddo didn't even have to call. Andri was there as Baddo raised a finger. He was pleased to see her ask for two beers, as he had never held with fancy drinks for women. 'Cheers,' she said, clinking her gla.s.s against his and looking him in the eyes over its rim as she drank.

Sat.u.r.day Gunna had intended to make the most of a morning at home, but by the time she had washed and dried clothes and given the kitchen a birthday, she realized that there was precious little left of it.

'Laufey! Laufey Oddbjorg Ragnarsdottir! Rise and shine, young lady,' she called in a thoroughly cheerful but convincing tone into the darkness of Laufey's bedroom, clicking the light on and off again.

'What? What time is it?' Laufey moaned.

'It's ten thirty on this delightful, cold, wet Sat.u.r.day morning, and as Steini's gone to Keflavik to drive a digger for the day and I have to go to work this afternoon, I took an executive decision that it's your turn to clean the bathroom.'

There was an incoherent moan from under the bedclothes and Gunna hoped that it signalled agreement with no further argument.

'I'm going to the shop,' she declared into the gloom. 'Be up by the time I get back, would you?'

The village of Hvalvik's only shop was spa.r.s.ely populated on a bl.u.s.tery morning and it was a windblown and red-cheeked Gunnhildur who returned home with two bags of shopping to find a black car parked diagonally across her drive.

Scowling to herself, she parked in the street instead, carried her bags through the widening puddles that had been ice the day before and let the front door bang as she let herself in.

'Laufey!'

'Yeah, Mum.' The reply didn't come from the bathroom, where she'd hoped her daughter would be toiling with a brush and mop.

'Is that one of your friends who doesn't know how to park a car straight?' Gunna demanded, dropping her boots by the door and carrying in three shopping bags, which she heaved onto the worktop before turning to see Laufey sitting at the kitchen table, patting the hand of a tearful young woman with a flood of ink-black hair straggling over the collar of her coat.

Gunna's face fell.

'Drifa? What brings you here? Are you all right, sweetheart?'

Pregnancy had not been kind to Drifa and when she stood up to hug Gunna, she could see the prominent bulge around the girl's midriff. It was only a few months since Gunna had last seen her brother's stepdaughter and the change was a shock. Her normally slim face with its lopsided smile had changed to a pale plumpness that looked distinctly out of place.

'I'm sorry, Gunna. I had to get away from Reykjavik for a few days. It's so lonely in the place I'm in and I wanted to get out of that miserable city for a while,' Drifa sniffed. 'I hope you don't mind?'

'Of course I don't mind. You're always welcome here,' Gunna said, shocked at the change in Drifa, not just in her spreading width but also in her transformation from a confident young woman to this tearful, lost child. 'Are you hungry, Drifa? Do you want something to eat? I'm going to work soon so I was going to have something anyway.'

'I don't want to put you to any trouble.'

'It's no trouble, sweetheart,' Gunna said. 'Laufey,' she added and needed to say no more as the girl opened the fridge and started piling food onto the table.

'I'm not sure I could eat anything,' Drifa said, b.u.t.tering a slice of bread and spreading it with cheese. 'I keep bringing everything up; I can't see why I'm getting so chubby when I'm hardly eating,' she wailed.

'It could be water retention, you know, Drifa. Once the baby's born . . .' she said and gulped. 'Once the baby's born you'll probably lose a lot of it straight away. That's what happened to me when Laufey was born.'

'Please, Mum. Not endless pregnancy stories,' Laufey said darkly. 'This isn't a sewing circle.'

In the end Drifa put away half a dozen slices of bread with cold meat, cheese or herring, an apple and a carton of juice, finally sitting back with more colour in her cheeks than there had been half an hour earlier.

'I'll have to leave you to it, I'm afraid, girls. I have to go to work,' Gunna said finally, after the table had been cleared and the usual family news had been exchanged. n.o.body had mentioned Gisli, and she hoped that it would stay that way for a while.

'On a Sat.u.r.day?' Drifa asked. 'Really?'

'Sadly, there are criminals who need to be chased and locked up at weekends as well. It would be lovely if murderers and drug dealers could stick to office hours.'

'Is that what you do?' Drifa asked, wide-eyed, while Laufey sn.i.g.g.e.red. 'I mean, like, I knew you were in the police, but I didn't think you did stuff like that.'

'OK. What did you think Mum did?' Laufey asked, trying not to laugh.

'Well, I thought you were in an office or something.'

'Somehow I don't think I'm quite the office type,' Gunna said stiffly and the two girls fell silent, Drifa a little crestfallen and Laufey smiling broadly. 'Now I have to get myself changed.'

She returned to find the two of them chattering over the table, but they fell silent as she appeared, pulling on her quilted jacket and wrapping a scarf around her neck.

'Cold out today,' she said to break the silence.

'Er, Gunna?'

'Yes, Drifa?' Gunna asked absently as she tied her bootlaces.

'I was wondering. Do you mind if I stay for a couple of days?'

'Fine by me,' Gunna said, her mind already elsewhere. 'But you'll have to use Gisli's room.'

'Gisli's room? All right,' Drifa said doubtfully.

'That's all there is, I'm afraid. I think he's taken most of his stuff anyway. Laufey, would you sort out Gisli's room for Drifa? Sorry, but I have to rush.'

'No problem, Mum,' Laufey said, taking charge.

'Right. Look after the place, ladies. I'll be back tonight; Steini should be here around seven and he's in charge of food tonight.'

'Who's Steini?' she heard Drifa whisper just before the door closed.

'Duh. He's Mum's squeeze,' Gunna heard Laufey explain as the door shut behind her.

Joel Ingi left the warmth of his bed with a heavy heart. Agnes was still pretending to be asleep as he showered and dressed. He felt restless and out of sorts and it was as well it wasn't a working day. The intention had been to stay at home and take it easy, maybe spend the morning in bed and suggest that Agnes do the same, but as she was in a foul temper he decided that he might as well go for a run, regardless of the miserable weather.

There was nothing to suggest he was being watched. There was n.o.body to be seen anywhere as he jogged the lightening streets, wondering if running in the wind and rain was a sign of insanity. He was angry with himself for being so paranoid as to imagine that someone would want to tail a lowly temporary officer, long pa.s.sed over for promotion. The lost laptop haunted his thoughts, not that he could tell Agnes why he'd been so nervous and preoccupied these last few days.

s.h.i.t, what if someone were to stumble across the computer's contents, he thought to himself, turning a corner and crossing Saebraut behind a line of cars queuing at the lights. The traffic moved off and gradually overtook him, cars and vans spitting black slush from beneath their wheels as snowflakes that were almost raindrops spun the glare of the streetlights, turning to water as soon as they landed and adding to the flow gurgling down the drains. Buffeted by a bl.u.s.tery wind, Joel Ingi picked his way carefully between the worst of the rivulets trickling along the seafront, wondering why he bothered to live in Reykjavik 101 and telling himself that if it were to freeze later, it would be impossible to get around.

The miserable weather and his own bad temper momentarily eclipsed his worries about the lost laptop and its dangerous contents. He even forgot to look around him to check if he were being followed, but if he had done, it was unlikely he would have recognized the blonde woman he had almost walked into on the pavement the day before as the same one who pa.s.sed him half a dozen times behind the wheel of a down-at-heel Renault while keeping a wary eye on his progress.

'I've found out something about hotels,' Eirikur announced.

Helgi didn't answer, enthralled by the sight of old-fashioned food of the kind his young wife wouldn't allow in their house.

'Go on, then,' Gunna said, 'what's that?'

'If you want to get an idea of what really goes on, then go in the evening. The managers work nine to five, and once they've gone home you're more likely to get some thwarted droid who's only too happy to drop the man in the s.h.i.t.'

'So you came away with some dirt, did you? Excellent. Let's hear it.'

The bus station was quiet. The early buses were long gone and in the dead of winter, with difficult roads all around the country, only a skeleton service ran. The cafeteria, which buzzed with life during the tourist season, was all theirs as they sat beneath old photographs of buses that travelled the country back when there were no tarmac roads outside Reykjavik and timetables were little more than inspired guesswork.

Eirikur dissected his pizza while Helgi looked up from his plate to glare at it with distaste. He munched a slice and washed it down with c.o.ke.

'h.e.l.l, and you dare to lecture me about eating healthy food,' Helgi grumbled.

'Boys,' Gunna said, reining them in. 'Eirikur . . . hotels. Remember?'

'Yeah. I went round a few of the big ones. The Airline Hotel, Hotel Ocean, Hotel Glacier, and avoided the Harbourside and the Gullfoss like you said. It's the same story everywhere once you get someone lower down the pecking order talking. At every hotel there's been at least one instance of this scam. Normally there's a phone call to reception from an outside number and a request to help a gentleman in a certain room. The gentleman is untied, is deeply embarra.s.sed and disappears. n.o.body ever wants to complain, and the reasons are pretty obvious.'

'So each of these hotels has had the same thing happen? That's half a dozen times to our knowledge, which includes the late Johannes Karlsson.'

'Mmmmm, yes,' Eirikur said, hurriedly swallowing. 'The bar manager at one of the hotels said the same thing had happened at Hotel Moon out near Borgarnes at least twice, as far as he knew, and it had happened at that cheap place up on armuli, whatever that's called.'

'A regular epidemic, isn't it?' Helgi ventured, straightening his shoulders as he pulled a sheep's head apart, much to Eirikur's disgust.

'That's not all,' Eirikur said, bubbling with enthusiasm. 'I spoke to Johannes Karlsson's son last night, and he said that there were five transactions on one of his debit cards that morning. Details should be on my email when I get back to Hverfisgata.'

Gunna tapped the tabletop with her fingernails, rattling an irregular tattoo that Helgi and Eirikur both knew and recognized as a signal that ideas were called for on their part.

'So how do we crack this, chief?' Helgi asked, pre-empting the expected comment.

'Y'know,' Gunna said slowly, 'I reckon it's time to push hard and give someone a fright. Look, there must be a dozen or so men around Reykjavik who have fallen for this scam over how long?'

'About a year, I guess,' Eirikur said.

'So we have to find at least one of them and pull his fingernails out one by one until he spills the beans.' Gunna smiled grimly. 'So I suggest we take one hotel each and give the manager a hard time until they come up with some names. How does that sound, gentlemen?'

Gunna was back at the Harbourside Hotel and this time Simon's smile had disappeared into the depths of the carefully shaped beard that framed his mouth.

'It's simple enough,' Gunna told him. 'There's a scam that's been taking place in hotels all over the city and I'm sure you're aware of it. A man takes a room and goes up there with a lady. An hour or two later there's a phone call to the hotel asking for someone in a certain room to be a.s.sisted. You get the picture?'

Simon shifted uncomfortably in the chair that fitted snugly into his curved desk. 'I've heard . . . rumours that this was more than a one-off,' he admitted finally. 'But it's not something I've had to deal with personally.'

'All right, then. Tell me a few of these rumours, would you?'

He scowled and Gunna could see him wondering what to say.

'As you can imagine, this is terribly sensitive,' he said finally, with an effort. 'I'm not sure what I can tell you.'

'I would suggest that you tell me everything you know, because if you don't and it comes out later that you withheld information, then you'll find yourself in a heap of trouble up to your eyeb.a.l.l.s.'

Gunna watched as Simon fought an internal struggle.

'I think you might have to speak to the managing director,' he said finally. 'This is something that affects the whole group.'