Thin Ice: An Inspector Gunna Mystery (Gunnhildur Mystery Book 5) (6 page)

‘Not me,’ Magni said. ‘I’m no city boy.’

‘Oh, right? Where might you be from?’

‘I’m an islander, me. Westmann Islands, that is.’

‘Ah.’ The old man nodded sagely. ‘Did a few seasons there myself. Before you were born, I’d guess. I’ll be off, I reckon. There’s work to be done and it won’t do itself. You want me to get anything from Selfoss for you?’

‘Don’t think so,’ Magni said before Össur had time to say anything. ‘But how far’s the nearest petrol station?’

‘Petrol?’ The old man looked at him quizzically.

‘I’m trying to get the lawn mowers running so they’re ready for the summer, but I could do with a can or two of petrol so I can fuel them up. It keeps condensation from forming in the tanks.’

‘Wise man. There’s a filling station a way south of here. Go that way,’ he said, jerking his head in roughly the right direction. ‘Take the Selfoss road at the fork and it’s not far after that. They close at four in the winter, although you can buy fuel any time if you have a plastic card to pay with. Otherwise I guess you’ll have to wait for your girlfriends to come back, won’t you?’

The apartment overlooked the sea and Esja behind it, its fifth-floor location giving it a view above the slow-moving stream of lights of the traffic on Sæbraut far below. Unlike Erna’s house with its clutter of ornaments and trinkets, Gunna felt this place was so minimal as to be virtually uninhabited.

Erna’s friend Sunna ushered Gunna to a sofa in the echoing living room with its back to the window and sat herself in a deep chair, crossing her legs and looking expectant.

‘What can I do for you, officer?’

‘Erna Björg Brandsen’s husband gave me your name as you were one of the people she might have met for lunch yesterday. Is that right?’

‘That I met Erna for lunch?’ Sunna asked with a flicker of a smile. ‘That’s right, I did. There were four of us.’

‘Including Erna’s daughter Tinna Lind?’

‘Tinna Lind was with us. What is this about?’

‘Erna and Tinna Lind have disappeared. Bogi reported them missing. I’m trying to trace their movements and it seems that the 19th Floor restaurant was the last confirmed sighting we have of them. Did Erna say where she was going after that?’

‘Not that I recall.’

‘She didn’t say anything about returning home, or going shopping somewhere?’

‘Not that I recall,’ Sunna repeated.

‘So what was your last sighting of them? In the restaurant?’

‘In the car park. Erna and Tinna Lind got into Erna’s car and I got into mine. Our friend Dúa was with us and she went with me in my car.’

‘You didn’t see which direction Erna was going as she left the car park?’

‘No. What do you think has happened to her?’

Gunna paused before answering, trying to work out if there might be any concern behind the woman’s outward display of indifference.

‘I’m keeping an open mind at the moment. It’s too early to speculate. You knew Erna well?’

Sunna extended a hand, palm down, and rocked it from side to side.

‘Well, but not intimately.’

‘She didn’t share secrets?’

‘If Erna had secrets, which I somehow doubt. I don’t get the feeling she lived dangerously these days.’

‘Meaning she did at one time?’

‘Maybe. A long time ago. I gather she had a wild past, but that was long before I got to know her.’

‘In what way?’

‘Tinna Lind isn’t Bogi’s daughter. Nobody seems to know who the real father is.’

‘And you haven’t asked?’

For the first time there was a change in Sunna’s expression and she looked shocked.

‘Of course not! That would be so inappropriate.’

‘Can you give me an impression of Erna’s character? And how long have you known her?’

‘Fifteen years or so, I suppose. Actually I knew Bogi first; at the time he and my husband were members of the same golf club, probably still are. Then Bogi met Erna and we’d all meet occasionally. Sometimes all of us together, sometimes I meet Erna for lunch or for a drink. We see each other at parties and receptions.’

‘And your take on Erna?’

Sunna’s face unbent into a stiff smile and Gunna wondered if she’d been botoxed.

‘Erna’s harmless. She wouldn’t hurt a fly, but she doesn’t venture outside her own little circle. If you think she might have gone off on some adventurous fling with a toyboy, think again. Erna knows how well off she is with Bogi and she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that, not in a million years.’

Gunna nodded as Sunna’s assessment tied in with the picture of Erna that she had begun to piece together.

‘And Tinna Lind?’

Sunna sniggered. ‘Drives her mother wild. Those two are so unalike in so many ways it’s hard to imagine that they’re related, but they both have that same stubborn streak inside. Erna knows she’s well off holding Bogi’s hand and I guess she can’t understand why Tinna Lind hasn’t even tried to find herself a wealthy husband yet when she has boys falling over her.’

‘So you know Tinna Lind well?’

‘No, not at all. I don’t know the girl all that well and what I know is what Erna tells me, normally through gritted teeth.’

‘Go on.’

Sunna took a deep breath. ‘Erna lives for the future, security is paramount to her. She has to have money, and preferably plenty of it, which is why Bogi suits her so well. He works like a slave, buys her whatever toys she asks for and worships her.’

‘You don’t imagine he would do her any harm?’

Sunna’s eyes widened in astonishment. ‘Bogi? Good grief, no. He’d be lost without her.’

‘And Tinna Lind?’

‘Ah, she’s the opposite of Erna. Tinna Lind lives for the moment. She has a good degree and could easily have a well-paid job. Instead she lives at home, does low-paid work and every time she’s saved something up, she disappears abroad. She comes back when she’s broke and goes back to work. Erna and I used to meet in Borgarkaffi sometimes, but since Tinna Lind has been waitressing there, she can’t bear to go in any more.’

‘Are you all right, Mum?’

‘Of course I’m not all right,’ Erna snapped back tearfully. ‘What the hell’s going on? What are these two thugs going to do to us?’

‘I don’t expect they’re going to do anything to us. The big guy seems all right, but the little one looks like he might be dangerous. They’re probably as desperate to get rid of us as we are to get away from them.’

‘And I haven’t had a shower. I don’t have any clean underwear. My hair’s in a mess and I don’t have a toothbrush. My car’s been wrecked by that oaf, and I don’t know when I’m going to get home.’

‘All right,’ Tinna Lind said, backing away and wrapping her arms around herself. ‘Just trying to help, that’s all.’

‘Aw,’ Erna crooned, leaning forward to touch Tinna Lind’s cheek. ‘I didn’t mean it like that.’

Tinna Lind drew away with a frown.

‘You didn’t say anything about Bogi. Don’t you think he’s worried. He should be home by now, shouldn’t he?’

‘You’re right. It’s Friday.’

‘Do you think he’ll go to the police?’

‘I’m sure he will,’ Erna said. ‘Sure of it. And they’ll come and get us.’

‘You mean they might if they knew where we were,’ Tinna Lind muttered. ‘How is anyone going to know where we are?’

‘Somebody must see us sooner or later, surely?’ Erna’s eyes were red-rimmed with tears of frustration and wide with fear. ‘I’m not sure I can stand this for much longer.’

Tinna Lind shrugged. ‘So what other options are there? Walk off into the snow when the guys aren’t looking?’

‘Don’t be stupid, girl. There must be a farm or something near here somewhere.’

‘Yeah, but where? Do you want to go looking for the nearest farm on foot? You know, it’s cold out there and you’re not going to get very far in those heels. And what if you don’t find somewhere before it gets dark? We wouldn’t survive a night outside, even if it’s fine.’

‘You think so?’ Erna said, her voice laden with doubt. ‘Surely there must be farmers around here?’

Tinna Lind tapped her toe on the floor in irritation. ‘Mother, when did you last go outside Reykjavík? I mean, other than to go to the airport?’

‘Don’t be silly. I went to Hvolsvöllur only a few weeks ago with Bogi to see his aunt and uncle.’

‘OK, so you must have seen what the rest of Iceland looks like? Lots of rocks with only a long way between everything? Well, we’re right out in the middle of that long way between everything and it’s a long walk to Selfoss from here.’

‘Selfoss? Erna looked blank. ‘Why Selfoss?’

‘Because that’s the nearest town.’

Erna shook her head. ‘How do you know?’

‘Because there’s a box of leaflets in the lobby behind the reception desk for Hotel Hraun, which is this place, and according to the map on the leaflet, Selfoss is about thirty kilometres that way.’ She smiled slowly. ‘Besides, I think they had a visitor today, so it might not be long before somebody finds out that there’s something going on up here.’

Gunna switched off the unmarked Golf’s engine in the car park behind the Hverfisgata police station as her phone rang.

‘Gunnhildur.’

‘
Hæ
. Siggi. You wanted some info, didn’t you?’

‘I did indeed, and as there’s no warrant needed, then you should have it all at your fingertips.’

‘For you, sweet thing, anything,’ Siggi said with exaggerated courtesy. ‘The two numbers you wanted, one ending one-seven-five, the other nine-nine-six.’

‘That’s the two missing persons, yes.’

‘OK, what we can gather from the phone company is that both are out of range.’

‘Not just switched off?’

‘No,’ Siggi said. ‘It seems that they both dropped off the network within a few minutes of each other on Thursday evening, around seven-thirty. The last contact was through a mast near Thingvellir.’

‘Right,’ Gunna said, thinking through the implications. ‘So what should that tell me? This is taking into account that Iceland has virtually complete GSM coverage these days.’

‘That’s right. There aren’t many places where there’s no coverage at all nowadays, but there are nooks and corners here and there where there’s no signal and plenty of areas with poorish coverage, so if it’s an old phone or just a lousy one, then it might not get a connection.’

‘Would that explain why they didn’t disappear at precisely the same time?’

‘It could,’ Siggi said. ‘You don’t know what types of phones these are?’

‘No, but I’m going to find out in a minute.’

‘Cool. Let me know and we’ll see if that could be something to do with it.’

‘That’s it? No phone traffic up to when they vanished?’

‘There’s a list of calls to and from both phones earlier in the day and I’ll email you that. Nothing after four that afternoon on either of them.’

‘Thingvellir, you said?’

‘That’s it.’

‘So they went through Reykjavík, onto Highway One, towards Mosfellsbær, took the Thingvellir road and then dropped off the radar somewhere there?’

‘Yep, I think you have it.’

‘So they’re in Thingvellir or Grímsnes, somewhere around there?’

‘Well, the phones are. That’s all we can say at the moment. But as soon as one or the other pops up, I’ll let you know right away.’

Magni hummed as he peeled an onion and sliced it. The slices sizzled in the pan and the smell spread quickly. He turned down the heat under the pan to let them fry gently and sharpened a kitchen knife on a steel, using quick, sure movements.

‘I thought you were going to cut your fingers off,’ Tinna Lind said as Magni used the now fiendishly sharp knife to dice beef into chunks.

‘Nah. Comes with practice.’

‘Where did you learn to do that, then?’ she asked, sitting on the worktop opposite and swinging her legs.

‘What? Sharpen a knife? I thought everyone could do that.’

Tinna Lind giggled. ‘Don’t be silly. Mum has some kind of electric thing in the kitchen that sharpens her carving knife.’

‘Fair enough,’ Magni shrugged. ‘I just use a steel like I always have. You work in the fish when you’re a kid and it just comes as part of the work. Everyone learns that sort of thing.’

‘Yeah, in the Westmann Islands, maybe.’

Magni dropped pieces of beef into a bowl, rolling them in flour a few at a time.

‘All right, so where did you learn to cook?’

‘On a boat.’

‘A fishing boat?’

‘What other kind of boat is there?’

‘I don’t know. Yachts. Merchant ships. Cruise ships. The Coastguard has boats.’

‘All right. But there are only fishing boats where I come from.’

Tinna Lind nodded and watched as he adjusted the heat under the pan.

‘Magni?’

‘Yeah?’

‘How long are we going to be here?’

He tipped the onions into a deep dish and replaced them in the pan with some of the beef. ‘Hell, I don’t know. Long gone before anyone turns up here in the spring, I hope.’

‘You know, I don’t think it’s going to be long before there’s company.’

‘What?’ He looked up sharply. ‘What do you mean?’

‘It stands to reason, doesn’t it? Look, I’ve worked in cafés and restaurants. If you’re closing down for a while, you clear everything out, don’t you? How come there are onions and garlic and potatoes in the cupboards? I reckon it won’t be long before whoever runs this place comes back to finish closing up for the winter,’ she said, her head on one side as she watched him. ‘Just a thought.’

‘I guess you’re right. I don’t know what my mate has planned, but I don’t reckon we’ll be here more than a day or two,’ Magni said thoughtfully, pushing the pieces of beef around the pan with a spatula as they spat and sizzled.

‘What are you making?’

‘A beef casserole, like a stew.’

‘For tonight?’

‘Yep.’

‘Don’t you like me, Magni?’ Tinna Lind asked, her voice dropping an octave.

‘What?’ Magni asked, taken by surprise. ‘Well, to be honest, I hadn’t thought about it.’

‘I thought you liked me, the way you stopped your friend being so aggressive this morning.’

‘Oh, that.’ He laughed. ‘Don’t worry about Össur. He can be a bit of a fucking idiot sometimes.’