‘G’day,’ he offered, cautiously rather than with any outward sign of nerves.
‘Hæ. You work here, do you?’ Gunna asked.
‘No, officer, I just come here for the fun of it.’
‘Sarcasm will get you nowhere, I’m afraid. Tell me, what’s on the other side?’
‘This place, you mean? It’s a sandwich bar. Lots of offices round here and hungry office types after their decaffeinated sandwiches and free-range coffee.’
‘But quiet on a Sunday evening, surely?’
‘Not as busy,’ the man admitted, jerking a thumb at the office block opposite. ‘But we do a good few takeaways and you’d be surprised how much business there is at weekends with all those suits and flunkies doing overtime.’
‘Were you here on Friday? Around midday?’
‘I was. Why? Who’s asking?’ he said with a sour note in his gravel voice. ‘Not that I can’t guess.’
‘You’ve probably guessed right. City police, CID. And you are?’
‘I’m Finnbogi Finnbogason. I don’t suppose you’re here to do a health and safety inspection?’
‘Far from it. But I’m hoping you might be able to help me.’
Finnbogi Finnbogason looked back at her with narrowed eyes as he drew deeply on his filterless Camel. ‘Go on.’
‘How many shops are there in this row?’
‘Half a dozen. Why?’
‘Smokers in every one?’
His face creased in suspicion. ‘Near enough, I reckon.’
Gunna jerked her head towards the block of offices that towered over them. ‘I’m wondering if you see much of what goes on next door, comings and goings from that place.’
‘It happens. A good few people use the back door as a shortcut, and there’s a guy from the insurance company on the fourth floor who leaves arm-in-arm with his secretary while his wife’s sitting in her car out the front waiting to catch them,’ he said with a laugh as dry as rustling paper. ‘She’ll figure it out one day, and that’ll be worth watching.’
Gunna took out the picture of Jóhann Hjálmarsson from her pocket. ‘I’m looking for this man; he probably came out of that door sometime on Friday.’
Finnbogi’s eyes narrowed even further. ‘And what’s he done, may I ask?’
‘You may ask if you like, but I reckon you know I shouldn’t tell you. Let’s just say that we’re concerned about his safety. It’s no secret. He’ll be on the evening news tonight.’
This time his eyes widened. He dropped the butt of his cigarette and quickly ground it out under his toe. ‘Dead?’
‘I hope not. I’m looking for when he came out of there and who was with him.’
‘I didn’t see anything.’
‘No, but you could ask around among the staff and the people who work in the other shops.’
His lip curled. ‘You’re asking me to do your police work for you?’
‘Not at all. I’m asking you to be a public-spirited citizen who doesn’t want an unexpected visit from environmental health. I’ll drop by tomorrow and see what you’ve found out.’ She handed him a card. ‘Or call me if you find something.’
He shook his head and grinned, as if accepting defeat with good grace. ‘Strange women giving me their phone numbers doesn’t happen every day, sweetheart,’ he said, tucking her card into a pocket and patting it. ‘I’ll give you a call if I hear anything. Hell, I might give you a call even if I don’t hear anything,’ he added with a lewd wink.
* * *
‘Eiríkur let him go?’
‘He did,’ Gunna said. ‘We could have arrested and charged him for the theft of the clasp that came from Aunt Bertha.’
Ívar Laxdal looked dubious. ‘And why didn’t you?’
‘What’s the hurry?’ she asked, looking up as Eiríkur came in and hung his coat on the back of his chair. ‘We can pick Orri Björnsson up whenever we want, but all we have to charge him with is an offence that will get him a suspended sentence, and that’s assuming it even gets to court.’
‘You have all the evidence.’
‘We do, but a smart lawyer could argue that the old lady is too senile to know what day it is or that there’s a reasonable likelihood that Aunt Bertha could have mixed things up,’ Gunna said. ‘Plus, he’s worried now. He knows we’re interested in him and I’d like to keep him worried.’
‘It’s up to you, Gunnhildur. I’d have charged the bastard and made it formal, myself.’
‘That’s not a problem. We can pick Orri up and charge him whenever we feel like it. Eiríkur, I hope you don’t feel you’ve had a wasted day?’
‘What? I’ve watched that evil bastard Oggi fall off a motorbike and break his ankle. That’s a great day as far as I’m concerned.’
Gísli looked more uncomfortable than Gunna thought she had ever seen him before, his broad shoulders hunched as he sat on a stool in the corner. She felt a sudden pang at the sight of him, the uncertain, lonely teenager suddenly brought back to life as if he had never been away, but instead of the skinny boy there was a brawny man with a goatee in the corner.
Soffía and Drífa sat together on the sofa, chatting animatedly.
‘Wow! How many stitches?’ she heard Drífa ask Soffía as she pushed open the door to see plates and cups all over the table, Laufey spooning yoghurt into Kjartan Gíslason and Steini lying on the rug tickling the soles of a laughing Ari Gíslason’s bare feet. The only one who didn’t seem to be having a great time was Gísli in the corner.
She stood silently in the doorway for a moment and took in the scene of her two grandsons together in the same room for the first time. Gísli was the first to look up and notice her. He stood up and went across to wrap his arms around her.
‘Hæ, Mum. I tried to call you yesterday,’ he said as his embrace slackened and Gunna regained the breath he had squeezed out of her.
‘I know, sweetheart. I’m really sorry, but everything’s gone arse-shaped at work these last few days and I didn’t have a chance to call you back.’
She perched on one of the stools by the little breakfast bar and poured herself a cup of coffee. Gísli sat next to her and did the same as they watched Laufey and Steini play with the children, while the two girls seemed to be sunk in conversation.
‘Are you all right, Gísli?’ Gunna asked, the hangdog look on his face stabbing her through the heart as she appreciated the turmoil he must be going through as a result of the same sight that brought her so much pleasure.
‘Yeah, I’m OK, I suppose,’ he said with a wry smile that showed just the opposite. ‘Been working a bit too hard recently.’
‘You’re still on the freezer, are you? They kept your berth open, didn’t they?’
‘Sailing next weekend.’
‘A shame you couldn’t finish college.’
‘I know. But there are mouths to feed now and I can go back next winter and finish.’
‘Make sure you do,’ Gunna said, patting his hand. There were hundreds of questions she wanted to ask, but this was neither the time nor the place for it. Gunna desperately wanted to know which of the two girls he planned on staying with, assuming that either of them still wanted him. She imagined that the sharp and independent Soffía would have some serious reservations on that score.
‘Thanks for looking after Drífa and Kjartan, Mum. I know she’s been as lonely as hell away from her own family.’
‘I gather she still hasn’t spoken to her mother yet,’ Gunna said in a murmur as their heads came close together over the coffee cups.
‘No. I had a call from her, though.’
‘From Ranna?’
‘Yep. She was very drunk and absolutely steaming with rage. Called me all the names under the sun.’
Gunna took a deep breath. ‘That’s no big surprise. Ranna’s never been what you might call even-tempered.’