Frozen Assets (5 page)

‘In Copenhagen? So he was due to fly out there on Tuesday?'

‘That's right, Tuesday afternoon. He didn't show up, so I'm going there next week to pick things up.'

‘What business is that?'

Jón Oddur smiled sourly for the first time. ‘It's a Danish sweet company that manufactures chewing gum. They want to see if Iceland's a market for them, so we're doing market research, putting them in touch with retailers, that sort of thing.'

‘Sounds interesting.'

‘Yeah. Right,' Jón Oddur said bitterly.

‘Not an exciting prospect?' Gunna probed gently.

‘Einar Eyjólfur didn't think so, and neither do I now that it's been dumped on me.'

‘What was he doing before that?'

‘The Hvalvík smelter was his project. He'd been on that since it started. He wasn't very pleased when he was taken off it and put on this chewing gum thing instead. What happened to him?'

‘Drowned,' Gunna repeated. ‘In Hvalvík harbour.'

‘God. What the hell was he doing in that dump?'

‘That's what we'd like to know. What do you know of his movements?'

‘We took the chewing gum guys to dinner at that Chinese place on Hverfisgata and then we went to a few bars after that.'

Gunna sat in silence, waiting for him to continue.

‘The Danes bowed out about eleven and went back to their hotel. We went for a few beers.'

‘A few?'

‘Yeah. Einar Eyjólfur liked a drink, but he didn't have much of a head for it.'

‘Where did you go?'

‘Gaukur á Stöng. Then that really loud place with all the lights on Laugarvegur and then the Emperor.'

‘Quite a night, then. So when and where did you part company?'

‘At the Emperor. About one. I told him he needed to get some sleep if he was going to catch his flight in the morning, but he said it was an afternoon flight so he didn't need to be up early.'

‘Did anything happen that was unusual?'

‘No. We had a few beers and I left him in the Emperor. That's it.'

‘Will anyone else corroborate that?'

‘Hell, I don't know,' Jón Oddur said wearily. ‘The barmaid might recognize us, I suppose. But it was a busy night. I got talking to a group of tourists and there was some really drunk bloke who bumped into Einar Eyjólfur and wanted to start a fight, but nothing out of the ordinary.'

Jón Oddur transferred his attention from the keyboard to a rubber band that he wrapped repeatedly around his fingers.

‘You seem nervous,' Gunna said as the rubber band flew off his hand and hit the wall.

‘You would be if one of your best mates had just drowned,' he snapped back. ‘What the fuck was he doing in Hvalvík, anyway?'

‘Like I said, that's what I'm trying to find out and the more you can tell me, the more likely it is I'll be able to get to the bottom of it all.'

‘Sorry,' Jón Oddur apologized with a sigh. ‘That's it. That's all I can tell you.'

‘Thank you. Now I'd better have a word with Dísa. She was his girlfriend, right?'

‘Sort of. They kind of split up when he moved out, but they were still sort of together.'

Sort of, thought Gunna as she stood up to leave Jón Oddur to his fidgeting.

‘If you recall anything else that might be useful, then I'd appreciate a call,' she said, placing a card on the desk.

Jón Oddur nodded vaguely, his attention split between her and the laptop in front of him.

‘Yeah. I'll let you know,' he said half-heartedly, his attention back on his computer screen. ‘Dísa's at reception. She normally leaves at four, so you'd better be quick.'

Dísa sat behind the reception desk and Gunna could see that she was watching her approach.

‘What did Jón Oddur say?' she asked before Gunna could speak.

‘That you knew him better than almost anyone. Is that right?'

‘What's happened to him?'

Gunna could see the anxiety and waited to see tears well up in those wide eyes.

‘Do you know who killed him?' Dísa whispered.

‘Why do you say that? There's no indication of foul play.'

‘How did it happen?'

‘He drowned, in the harbour at Hvalvík.'

‘What was he doing there? He'd been taken off the smelter project,' Dísa said angrily.

‘That's just what I think I need to find out,' Gunna replied grimly. ‘Have you finished for today?'

Dísa nodded, eyes awash with tears.

‘In that case, do you need a lift home?'

28-08-2008, 2041

Skandalblogger writes:

It's our birthday! Two years down the line and we're still here. It's been two whole anonymous years of providing the nation with completely reliable, totally unsubstantiated and extremely libellous gossip about the great and the good of Icelandic entertainment, business and politics. So happy birthday to us! We'd like to ask all our readers — and there are plenty of them! — to raise a glass to the Skandalblogger tonight and wish us plenty more years of risking our necks bringing you malicious libel for your delectation. We know you love us and you'd hate to see us go . . .

Just to keep in the spirit of things, we'd like to know who says gentlemen prefer the real thing?

Here are Skandalblogger's top five falsies. Here we are, for your delectation, in reverse order, the top five society ladies who have gone under the knife in the noble cause of chest enhancement.

5. A certain notorious fitness expert who went from 32A to 34C overnight. She must have been getting a discount for bulk, so to speak, as she had her schnoz done at the same time.

4. The lady who looks after the extramarital needs of a particularly needy businessman who owns a newspaper, a record store, a chain of grocery shops and a transport company. Judging by his girlfriend's impressively upholstered new frontage, he can't be quite so needy any more.

3. A well-known PR guru had hers done in the States. There's nothing like mixing business with pleasure, is there, Sugarplum?

2. Pop stars have to look a million dollars, but our guess is that, this warbling national treasure's boob job was a cut-price deal, as it looks like her arse has simply been sliced off and stuck to her chest. We like it, though.

And number 1 . . . is, tan-tan-tara. Sorry, but it has to be our favourite newsreader. They looked better before, darling. And we decided to put you at number one for outright daring. Who do you think you're fooling?

See you soon!

Bæjó!

Dísa's flat was in the basement of a large house in Vogar, twenty minutes' drive out of the city on the road to Keflavík, among the black lava crags of the peninsula that ends with the airport and was until recently the NATO air base.

Much of the main room was filled by an ornately framed double bed stacked with neatly folded clean laundry and piles of magazines. In the corner a light winked on a computer with a darkened screen.

‘Let's sit in the kitchen,' Dísa said, dropping her bag on the kitchen table and draping her jacket over the back of a chair.

Gunna sat down and scanned the room. There were film posters on the walls, but she had the impression that the kitchen didn't get used often.

‘No problems at work?'

Dísa shook her head. She pulled on and huddled inside a thick checked shirt several sizes too large that Gunna guessed had once belonged to Einar Eyjólfur.

‘No. Not at all. Sigurjóna's fine.'

‘How about the others? It's quite a small company and you must have all worked closely together.'

‘Sigurjóna's not happy. Everyone knew that Einar Eyjólfur wasn't about. Fjóla the accountant is really shocked as well. She's quite old, almost forty, and Einar said she was a bit like his mum except younger.'

Gunna wondered if Dísa even had any coffee in the flat.

‘Well, forty's not that old, you know,' she said softly.

Dísa sniffed. ‘Sorry. I didn't mean to be rude, but everyone at Spearpoint is young except for Fjóla.'

‘That's OK. No offence taken.'

‘How old are you, if you don't mind my asking?'

‘Me? Thirty-six.'

Dísa nodded dumbly and Gunna took a deep breath. ‘We identified Einar Eyjólfur from the national register. The E-three tattoo we figured out stood for EEE, and there aren't that many people with those initials. You'd recognize that tattoo?'

‘Yeah. I've got one the same,' she said, shrugging a shoulder out of the thick shirt to reveal the book and letters just below the nape of her neck.

‘And V-two?'

‘That's me. VV. Dísa is short for Vigdís. Vigdís Veigarsdóttir.'

‘That explains it.'

Dísa huddled back inside the shirt.

‘So. What can you tell me?' Gunna asked.

‘I don't really know.'

‘How about starting at the beginning? What's your background?'

‘I was brought up here.'

‘In Vogar?'

‘In this street. This is my uncle's house. Dad and my uncle built their houses at the same time. This flat is here because they expected my grandmother to come and live here one day when she was too old to live on her own. But then she died and the place stayed empty. When I started going out with Einar Eyjólfur and we decided to live together, my uncle said we could live down here.'

‘And your parents live close to here as well?'

‘Just Mum. Dad left ages ago. He's got another wife and small children now. They live in Reykjavík.'

‘How long had you known Einar when you moved in together?'

‘Not long. Five or six weeks.'

‘And how long did you live together?'

‘Almost a year.'

‘Did you meet at work?'

‘Yes,' Dísa said hollowly. ‘Jón Oddur bet him he wouldn't ask me out, and he did. So he told me about the bet and it was like a private joke between us that we'd have a couple of dates and then split the winnings.'

‘And what then?'

‘Well, we just liked each other, I suppose.'

‘Can you tell me anything about him, what sort of a character he was?'

Dísa puffed her cheeks out and thought for a moment. ‘He was one of those people who is lovable and infuriating at the same time. You know what I mean?'

‘Precisely.'

‘He would do the stupidest things. Like, completely idiotic. He'd put potatoes and ice cream in the same dish, things like that. But at the same time he was really clever and could do all kinds of things. He could speak English and Danish and bits of other languages as well, and he could do anything with the computer and electronic stuff.'

‘Was he a bit of a nerd, if you don't mind me using that word?'

‘He was a nerd and he was proud of it. Sometimes he could be totally thoughtless and at other times he could be so considerate as well.'

‘And what happened? Why did you split up?'

‘Mum didn't like him much, and he didn't like her either, so that didn't help. He really missed his friends being out here in Vogar and it's a pain getting into town, because he said he didn't want to own a car.'

‘Why's that?'

‘He said that the combustion engine is destroying the earth and he didn't want to contribute to it. But all that meant was that I drove us everywhere instead.'

‘A man of principle?'

‘When it suited him.'

‘But you were still close at the time he disappeared?'

‘We were.'

‘And when did you last see him?' Gunna asked.

‘The day before he was found. He stayed here all weekend and had to meet some people on the Monday, so he went to town with me on Monday morning and went to his place and I went to work as usual. I thought I'd see him the next day, but he didn't come in to work. Then you called on Wednesday to talk to Ósk.'

‘And you answered the phone?'

‘Yeah. And I knew right away something was wrong.'

‘Did he say anything about the people he was meeting?'

‘Not really. But he didn't get off on drinking and always complained about having to take clients around the nightlife.'

Gunna nodded. ‘Was there anything you noticed in the time up to his disappearance that was different? Changes in his behaviour or habits? Sigurjóna says that there was nothing she noticed in his work that was any different.'

Dísa shook her head. ‘Sigurjóna's a strange woman. Some things just completely pass her by and other things she watches like a hawk. If he hadn't been doing his work, she would have noticed straight away.'

‘But there was nothing you noticed?'

‘There was something and I didn't want to say anything about it at the office. Y'know, there wasn't time and, it's, like, work.'

‘Go on.'

‘This is what I thought you ought to know about. It was in the spring. There was this friend of Einar Eyjólfur's who was killed in a road accident. I'd never met the guy, but it really shook him up.'

‘Do you remember the man's name? Or where the accident occurred?'

‘No. Sorry. I keep saying sorry, don't I? I think he was a teacher or something, and the accident happened right outside his house, so he said, up in Grafarvogur.'

‘And you never met this man?'

‘No. Just heard them talking a lot through the computer. On Skype.'

Gunna made a few notes on her pad, angling it on the edge of the table so that it couldn't be seen. She wrote ‘Computer — talk? How? Ask Snorri.'

‘If this man's death upset him so much, do you know if they were related, or old friends, or anything like that?'

‘No, nothing like that. They talked mostly about all this ecological stuff, dams and power and electricity, that kind of thing. I think they were working on some sort of website together, something to do with Clean Iceland.'

‘The environmental group?'