“I don’t think that’s going to be possible, Ægir,” she said, keeping her voice calm.
“That laptop is government property,” Ægir repeated, this time spluttering with fury.
“As far as I’m aware, this laptop is the personal property of Jóel Ingi Bragason, and right now it’s also evidence, so the answer’s no. I’m not prepared to hand it over. If you feel it’s your department’s affair, then you’d best go through the proper channels.”
Ægir’s fury boiled over. “Hand that fucking thing over, you stupid woman.”
That was rich coming from a man half a head shorter than her, Gunna thought, looking down on Ægir Lárusson and wondering if his wife cut his hair especially to emphasize the shining bald spot on top of his head.
Approaching from behind, Már Einarsson whispered in Ægir’s ear.
“That woman there,” he pointed at Bára. “That woman has been working on the ministry’s behalf to recover that laptop, after you and your people couldn’t do it.”
“Interesting you should say that, as I was about to formally arrest this person for being in possession of stolen goods, plus a few other things for good measure, and I’ll be expecting her to explain all the circumstances surrounding this case in quite some detail,” Gunna said, pleased to see that Bára looked suitably crestfallen.
Ægir Lárusson’s face went even redder and Már muttered in his ear a second time.
“Gentlemen, this is a crime scene,” she reminded them. “I have a serious assault to deal with here and every second counts. If you have a problem, I’d appreciate it if you take it up with Ívar Laxdal. All right?” she said, taking Bára by the arm. “And you’re coming with me. Behave yourself or you’ll be in handcuffs.”
The helicopter fluttered overhead, silhouetted for a moment against the pure white of the mountains behind, before it thrashed away southwards through the cold, still air.
“Not a fucking hope,” the paramedic said.
“What?”
“I reckon that guy’s going to be a vegetable for the rest of his natural,” he explained with a sour shake of his head. “I’ve seen plenty of road traffic accidents, fights, you name it. A head injury like that? I’d put money on it that he won’t last the night.”
Ívar Laxdal, resplendent in a short military-style coat and with his beret smartly perched on his head, narrowed his eyes at Gunna.
“If you’d been here ten minutes earlier …?” he ventured.
“If I’d had a crystal ball,” she said. “If I hadn’t gone to the ministry with you this morning, then Helgi and I would have been here an hour earlier. Of course, if we’d have turned up in the middle of it all, who knows what the result might have been? In my opinion, it doesn’t pay to speculate after the event. You might be interested to know that Baddó had a gun in his pocket, which he’d probably borrowed or stole from Hinrik the Herb, which is great for Hinrik as that means we can’t pin possession of a handgun on him.”
“What’s this country coming to, Gunnhildur?”
“You tell me. This isn’t about the people we’re used to dealing with breaking the law. There’s something much meaner and nastier behind it all. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a crime scene that needs attending to, and there are two gentlemen over there who might want to speak to you.”
Ívar Laxdal had the unaccustomed feeling that he was being told what to do; he opened his mouth to speak and then thought better of it before making his way to where Ægir Lárusson and Már Einarsson had parked their black 4×4 further up the street.
Inside the house Gunna sat on Sif’s bed and looked at the accumulated teenage junk that reminded her of Laufey’s bedroom. Sif sat stiffly next to her, looking overwhelmed as Gunna inspected the pictures of thrash metal bands pinned haphazardly on the walls.
“You know, I have a daughter who’s just about your age, Sif,” she said quietly.
“I expect she’s a good girl, isn’t she?” the girl said with a hint of a sneer in her tone.
“Far from it,” Gunna said. “She’s a pain in the backside and she drives me nuts a lot of the time.”
“Oh.”
“I want a quiet word with you before we all have to go to the station in Hverfisgata. It’s going to be a long day, I’m afraid, and there are endless questions that you’re going to have to answer. So between ourselves, before there are any formal interviews and anything is recorded, I just wanted to advise you to be upfront and tell it like it is. Understand?”
“Because you’ll force it out anyway?”
“No, because unless you’re smarter than even the most experienced criminals we’ve had to deal with, you’ll trip over yourself and get found out sooner or later. It’s nothing more sinister than that. Now, while it’s just us, tell me about this laptop that all the fuss has been about.”
Sif sighed and looked at Gunna with a new respect.
“What’s going to happen?”
“Hospital to start with, then there’ll be a lot of questions. Make it as straightforward as you can and it’ll be fairly painless for all concerned.”
“Am I going to be arrested?”
Sif’s eyes were wide and there was fear behind her round glasses. “Maybe as a formality. You’re certainly part of a large and rather complex investigation. Now, what’s so special about this laptop?”
“It was in Dad’s workshop. Hekla said she’d been given it by someone, but I didn’t believe her. So I started it up; you need a password to get it to work.”
“And?” Gunna asked as Sif paused.
“It was easy, really. The guy’s business card was in the case as well. The password was his name.”
“Jóel Ingi?”
“Bragason. That was like, really obvious. I was bored over Christmas and I tried to read some of the guy’s reports, but they were really dull. So I went through his emails instead and found all that stuff in the outbox, all those emails between him and the people he works with about those four asylum seekers.”
“You knew about that?”
“Duh,” Sif said. “We’re not all brain-dead dweebs who are only interested in music and partying.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that you were. What are you doing at college, by the way?”
“Journalism and political science.”
“Ah. That explains a few things. So who did you pass this information on to?”
“One of the guys in my course, and my tutor,” Sif said in a small voice. “Will they get in trouble now?”
Gunna thought quickly. “No, I shouldn’t think so. Is all this information still on the computer? How did you pass it on? Electronically or on paper?”
“There’s nothing on that laptop. I reformatted it.”
“What? You erased everything?”
Sif nodded and swept her hair out of her eyes. “The emails are copied to a dropbox on the internet as well, and I backed up the whole hard drive onto a portable HD.”
She knelt on the floor and pushed a hand under the mattress, producing a small black box with two USB cables coming out of it. Gunna took it from her hand and put it in the pocket of her coat.
“That can stay safe with me, Sif,” she said and looked toward the door. “Listen,” she added quietly, looking into Sif’s face and watching her eyes go wide. “What I said before about telling it like it is, do that. But as far as anyone’s concerned, you didn’t have a password, and you never got into that laptop. Is that clear? You just put it back where it was and forgot about it.”
Sif nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “I can do that.”
Ívar Laxdal and Gunna watched as the first ambulance drove away sedately with Hekla and Sif on board, closely followed by Pétur in the old Land Rover and the black ministry 4×4 bringing up the rear, all of them heading for the National Hospital.
“Are they hurt badly?” Ívar Laxdal asked.
“No, I don’t think so. Hekla had been slapped a few times, but no bones broken. The girl is the one I’d be concerned about. Eighteen is an impressionable age and this could haunt her for evermore.”