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Authors: Quentin Bates

Tags: #Fiction, #Crime, #Mystery & Detective, #General

Summerchill (6 page)

BOOK: Summerchill
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At his desk, he went through the log for the night and checked the records for Axel Rútur’s friend Stefán’s history. It looked depressingly similar: a couple of arrests for being drunk and disorderly; one break-in, also committed while drunk, and a slew of assault charges. The differences, he noted, were that some of Stefán’s offences were relatively recent, one only a year ago, when a young woman had brought charges against him.

He made some notes and thought to himself, noting down the name of the officer who had handled the case. He wrote a few lines on a sticky note, stuck it to Gunna’s computer monitor and made his way downstairs.

‘Is Hlynur about?’ he asked in the canteen.

‘He’s on duty. Check in the car park. If he’s not there, then you’d better give him a call and find out where he is,’ the chief inspector on duty told him.

Outside in the car park he flagged down a squad car as it drove in.

‘Hlynur? A word, if you have a minute.’

The tall officer’s colleague disappeared inside and Helgi spread out paperwork on the squad car’s bonnet.

‘Is there a problem?’

‘No, not at all,’ Helgi assured him. He tapped the report he had printed out. ‘This guy here, Stefán Ingason. You remember him?’

‘A proper nasty piece of work. The girl withdrew the charges and it never went to court.’

‘That’s all straightforward enough. But this guy has come to our attention in connection with something else. What was your take on him? Aside from what’s in your report, that is.’

‘He’s been doing some enforcement on the side. It’s as clear as day. It was blindingly obvious this girl had borrowed some money and the interest added up faster than she could pay it back. Stefán went to her flat to persuade her that the debt needed to be paid, and I guess he got carried away and broke her arm.’

‘So she called the police?’

‘No, the hospital called us. She had a black eye and a few other bruises as well.’

‘And she explained what had happened?’

‘Yep, in detail. But a week later she withdrew her statement and said that she’d fallen down the stairs. No case.’

‘You questioned Stefán?’

‘He flatly denied that he had anything to do with it, and he came up with an alibi.’

Helgi nodded. ‘I don’t suppose that alibi was supplied by Axel Rútur Karlsson, was it?’

‘You’re way ahead of me.’ Hlynur grinned. ‘He’d been at Axel Rútur’s flat all that evening and the guy’s girlfriend confirmed it as well.’

‘Now there’s a surprise.’

‘Why? Have you got something on this character?’

‘Maybe. But it’s Axel Rútur who has disappeared, so it’s a missing person inquiry.’

‘Well . . .’ Hlynur sucked his teeth. ‘If both of them were to disappear, then Reykjavík would be a better place without them.’

‘They make a habit of this?’

‘It looks like it. But they’re discreet. I don’t know about Axel Rútur. Stefán’s no bright spark, but he’s cunning and he lies like a cheap watch. They’re both responsible for plenty of black eyes and broken fingers. No witnesses, no evidence and nobody dares bring charges or be a witness against either of them. That’s why all we hear are whispers about these two and never anything definite.’

The young woman looked through the glass panel with a quizzical expression on her face.

‘Signý?’ Helgi asked.

‘That’s me.’

‘My name’s Helgi Svavarsson and I’m a detective with the serious crimes unit. Could I come in? I’d like a word.’

He watched her face fall and she stepped to one side to let him into the apartment. Helgi looked around and could see right away that it was well kept, but that it was thrift rather than cash that kept the place smart. The furniture was unfashionable and faded. The TV was an old set and not the usual flat screen. The room had been painted recently in bright primary colours and a child’s drawings were pinned to the walls.

‘Would you like a coffee?’

‘I would, thank you. You live alone?’

She poured water into a kettle and measured coffee into a plastic filter that she propped in the mouth of an old-fashioned thermos. Helgi’s heart warmed to her and he could see she was nervous, wondering why he was there. He had to admit he liked the look of her: sturdy legs and a pleasingly plump figure in a T-shirt that showed it off, topped by blonde hair in a thick curtain around her shoulders.

‘No. My son’s with his father this weekend.’

‘I’m investigating the disappearance of a gentleman called Axel Rútur Karlsson,’ he said, watching as she opened the fridge.

‘And how does that concern me? I don’t know anyone of that name.’

‘But you’ve met his friend Stefán Ingason.’

There was a squelch as the milk carton she had taken from the fridge hit the floor and she spun round to face him. Signý’s face had gone pale behind the freckles. Helgi stood up and watched in alarm as she joined the milk on the floor.

‘Shit,’ he swore to himself, and crouched next to her. He put a hand to her neck and felt a clear pulse, while her heaving chest told him she was breathing.

With the decisions taken, the walls went up fast. Tadeusz wanted to be finished and Logi felt it was time to get out of town for a while. The big guy’s visit was still preying on his mind, and while Tadeusz had noticed he wasn’t as cheerful as usual, he said nothing. The two Polish boys appeared their usual selves, and while Logi desperately wanted to know what had become of the Outlander and its owner, he was aware that it was best to know as little as possible.

Marek muttered to himself as he stretched at the top of the stepladder, fiddling with the cables and switches that had always been a mystery to Logi.

Tadeusz screwed the last of the wallboards in place and whooped.

‘Doors or lunch break?’ Logi asked.

‘You’re the boss,’ Tadeusz said. ‘Up to you.’

‘Pizza? The usual?’

‘Yeah, why not?’

Logi called the pizza takeaway in Hafnarfjördur they had been using for the last few days, placed the order and stripped the plastic covering from the first of the two doors. The office was a double arrangement, with a larger office with a window onto the showroom and a smaller one further in, hardly more than a cupboard, Logi thought, just large enough for a couple of chairs and a small desk.

The pizzas appeared sooner than he expected and they sat down on crates to munch their way through them.

‘Decent food again tomorrow,’ Marek mumbled. ‘No more pizza for me until I come back in October.’

‘You are coming back, then?’

‘Yeah, I think so. Unless my cousin gets me a job in Germany.’

‘Is that likely?’

Marek shook his head. ‘Too many immigrants there already.’

‘Same as here, you mean?’ Tadeusz laughed. ‘Immigrants like us? What do you think, Logi? You don’t have a problem with all these foreigners?’

‘As long as they don’t take all our women, I don’t give a shit,’ he said through a mouthful of pizza.

‘Why so thick walls?’ Marek mused, nodding at the office.

‘Search me,’ Logi said. ‘You know, the customer gets what the customer wants and I’m not going to ask any questions as long as they pay up.’

‘And this one already has. We could do with more like that.’

‘You go back to Pétur’s job at farmhouse next week?’ Marek asked.

‘Yep. While you’re on the beach, we’ll be working up country again.’

‘You have spoken to Pétur?’ Tadeusz asked.

‘Had a text from him this morning. He wants us to start there Monday or Tuesday, depends if the plasterers finish today.’

‘They work Saturday?’ Tadeusz asked.

‘So he says. And if we can get all this finished today, ahead of schedule, then we can have a day off tomorrow,’ Logi said, dropping a pizza crust back in the box. ‘So shall we continue?’

Helgi was wondering whether or not to call an ambulance when the girl came round to find him holding her hand and looking grave. It had only been a matter of seconds, but it felt like an age.

‘Are you all right?’ he asked, and immediately felt foolish for asking such a pointless question.

‘I think so,’ she said.

‘Shall I help you up?’

Awkwardly, he held her hand as she struggled to her feet and sat heavily on a kitchen chair that threatened to give way beneath her.

‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘Could you get me some water, please?’

Helgi ran water into a glass and she held it with both hands to drink. As he was standing by the sink, he poured water into the coffee filter and its warm aroma filled the room.

‘OK now? You want to lie down?’

Signý rested her head in her hands on the table as Helgi poured more hot water onto the coffee. She took deep breaths and looked up when he put a mug of coffee in front of her. He retrieved the milk carton from the floor and put it on the table.

Just as well it didn’t burst,’ Signý said and smiled weakly as Helgi tore off the corner to pour milk for himself.

‘I’m sorry about that. I really didn’t mean to give you a shock.’

‘That’s all right. PMS, I expect,’ she said and Helgi felt suddenly embarrassed.

‘Well.’ He coughed. ‘I was going to ask you about Stefán Ingason.’

Suddenly she was hostile, ‘I don’t want any charges. It was an accident.’

‘That’s up to you. As far as I’m concerned, whatever happened last year is old news and Stefán has got away with it, which goes against the grain.’

‘So why are you here?’

‘As I said, I’m investigating why a man called Axel Rútur Karlsson has vanished. He and Stefán are business partners. When your incident occurred, was it just Stefán who, er . . . visited you?’

Signý sipped the coffee, still supporting herself with her elbows on the table.

‘It was just him.’

‘He didn’t have anyone with him?’

‘I . . . er. I don’t know,’ Signý said. ‘I’ve almost blanked the whole thing out. I try not to think about it.’

Helgi leaned back and so did Signý, straightening her back and sweeping the fair hair away from her face as she looked at the ceiling. Helgi could see her eyes were heavy with tears and he hoped she wasn’t going to cry.

‘I don’t suppose you got any counselling, either, did you?’

‘No.’

‘Of course not. You don’t get counselling for falling down the stairs. Whereas if you’d been the victim of a violent attack, then you would have got all the help you could ask for.’ He leaned forward. ‘Come on, Signý. Tell me what really happened.’

She shuddered briefly, closed her eyes and twined her fingers together, palms outwards and stretched her arms until the fingers cracked.

‘I was in trouble and borrowed some money about two years ago. My relationship had broken up, my boyfriend had moved out and I was struggling financially. My job went to 60 per cent time after the financial crash and there just wasn’t enough to keep us properly afloat. So I borrowed some money instead of going bankrupt, which was the stupidest thing I ever did.’

‘I take it this wasn’t a loan from a bank? How much did you borrow?’

‘A million, and no, it wasn’t from a bank,’ she said bitterly. ‘The banks didn’t have any money to lend, or at least they said they didn’t.’

‘So you got a short-term loan from a shark?’

‘Yes. Someone my then-boyfriend knew. I paid the bills, bought food and got the car fixed. Perfect.’

‘But then the repayments started?’

Signý nodded. ‘He wanted two million.’

‘Fuck. Two million? That’s insane.’

‘I know. By then I was back working full time again and I managed to pay back the original million, although it was a struggle. But then he said the interest had continued to grow and I still owed him two million. I couldn’t pay. I’d scraped together every penny I could lay my hands on and it still wasn’t enough. I even managed a bank loan, but by then he said the interest had gone up another million.’

‘So by this time you’d paid the extra two million and still owed another million on top?’

‘That’s it.’

‘And?’

‘I had a few of visits from . . .’

‘Stefán?’

‘The first time he was polite. The second time he broke every glass, cup and plate in the flat and said I had two days to get myself sorted out.’

‘The third time? Was that when he broke your arm?’

Signý’s eyes flashed and Helgi was taken by their deep blue colour.

‘No. That time there was a suggestion that I could work off the debt,’ she said, and her voice trembled with anger.

‘On your back, I’d guess?’ Helgi said and Signý nodded with her lips pursed tight.

‘Exactly. He said I had forty-eight hours to think it over. He came back two days later and I told him to fuck off or I’d go to the police.’

‘And the response? I can guess.’

This time Signý blanched at the recollection. ‘A couple of smacks and then I was on the floor with my arm twisted up behind my back until I heard it crack,’ she whispered. ‘Then he showed me a picture of my son and said he knew which school he goes to.’

Helgi nodded. ‘I reckon I know the rest of the story. You went to A&E, and the police were called as you clearly hadn’t fallen down the stairs. Stefán was arrested and charged, then you withdrew your statement.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t dare do it any other way. I had a visit from another man. He said that if I withdrew my statement, then the debt would go away. If I went ahead, they still knew which school my son goes to.’

Helgi opened his notebook and placed a print of Axel Rútur’s driving licence photo on the table. ‘This man?’ he asked, and Signý nodded.

‘Interesting. Our missing man,’ he said quietly.

Gunna frowned at Helgi’s scrawled note on her monitor and screwed it into a ball, which bounced on the rim of the bin before falling into it. When Helgi appeared with a twinkle in his eye, she was deep in administration work and glanced up as he sat down humming to himself.

‘What are you looking so happy about?’

‘You know what it’s like as a detective. It’s one long round of cocktails and loose women. And you? How was the salmon? Where did Steini get it from?’

Gunna looked over the top of her monitor as Helgi looked back at her over his.

‘Helgi Svavarsson. You should know better. You should know that a gentleman never asks a lady her age and he never asks where a whole salmon appeared from.’

BOOK: Summerchill
7.44Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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