Frozen Assets

‘Well, one of my colleagues said it might be a better feature because there are so few women in the police.’

‘You what?’

‘He reckoned it might make a good story because there aren’t many female police officers of your experience.’

‘You mean all the policewomen you see are these young ones who’ve been in the job for five minutes and you might get something more out of an old bag like me?’

‘Um. Yes.’

Gunna grinned. ‘Good answer. When being questioned by the law, just tell the truth. And who told you this?’

‘Jonni Kristinns, the political editor.’

‘I know Jonni well enough from when I was in the city force. He’s a friend of the bloke who was my partner at the time.’

‘Your husband?’

Gunna looked sourly across the table at Skúli. ‘No. My police partner when I was on the city force. You work together a lot of the time and I suppose in many ways your partner is someone you get to know better than a husband or a wife.’

‘Is this guy still in the police?’

‘Bjössi? Yeah. But he moved out of the city as well, and out of uniform. He’s in CID in Keflavík now.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Björn Valsson, known as Bjössi. I haven’t seen Jonni in years. He was on TV as well, wasn’t he?’

‘I think so, a while ago. He’s one of those old guys who can’t keep away from paper.’

Skúli was acutely aware that he had asked few of the questions he had lined up, but had again ended up doing most of the talking while Gunna asked the questions.

‘How long have you been in the police?’ he asked finally.

‘Sixteen years, with a break in the middle.’

‘What for?’

‘You know, children, all that stuff.’

‘So you’re married?’

‘Not any more.’

‘Is it long since you split up?’

Gunna gave Skúli a sharp look. ‘Is this really necessary? The last thing I want to see is my private life splashed across Dagurinn on a Saturday morning.’

‘No, it’s not for print. It’s just, you know, for me to build up a picture of you,’ Skúli gabbled. ‘I don’t want to put in too much personal stuff, but people like to see it.’

‘All right,’ Gunna said unwillingly. ‘I have a son from a relationship when I was in my teens. Gísli’s nineteen now. I have a thirteen-year-old daughter with my husband, who died eight years ago in an accident that I don’t want to discuss. Is that enough for you?’

‘Plenty, thank you,’ Skúli said gratefully. He had noticed the broad gold ring on Gunna’s finger and wondered why she had never mentioned a husband. ‘How did you wind up in a place like this?’

‘You mean, what’s a girl like you doing in a nice place like this?’

‘Yeah. I mean, no,’ Skúli stumbled. ‘Sorry. That’s not what I meant. Are you from around here originally?’

Gunna smothered a grin. Making the lad gabble with embarrassment was becoming a source of light relief during an otherwise dull day.

‘No. I’m not from round here. I’m from Vestureyri.’

‘What? Right up there in the western fjords? Wow. So, why Hvalvík?’

‘All right, here we go. I was brought up in Vestureyri, worked in the fish when I was twelve, all that stuff. When I was nineteen one of my uncles suggested I could be a copper for the summer. I thought — why not? My mum was happy to babysit for me. I gave it a try as a probational constable for a few months and got a kick out of it. Less money than working in the fish, but a lot more interesting.’

‘So you stayed with it?’

‘Yup. Applied to the police college and was accepted straight away. There weren’t many women going into the force then, so they were glad to get applications, although my family weren’t too pleased when I moved south for the winter so I could go to college.’

Skúli decided to try Gunna’s tactic and sat in silence for her to continue.

‘So, we moved back west in the summer and I was on the force in Vestureyri for a few years. Then I met Raggi and moved south to live with him, and transferred to the city force.’

Skúli sat in expectant silence, already chastened once, while Gunna’s face hardened.

‘After my husband died I was on compassionate leave and then sick leave for the best part of a year. The posting at Hvalvík came up and I applied and got it, which was something of a surprise. And I’ve been here ever since,’ Gunna concluded with a deep breath.

‘What, er — what happened?’

Gunna glanced at him sharply and Skúli felt he had been slapped. ‘Are you listening or not?’

‘Listening.’

‘Like I said, it was an accident. I don’t want to talk about it. You can look it up in the cuttings, February 2000. That’s the end of the potted biography, and I don’t expect to see any of that in print. Understood?’ Gunna instructed with a chill in her voice.

‘Understood.’

‘The rain’s stopped,’ Gunna observed, looking out at the sun bursting through the ragged clouds. ‘If you’ve finished eating, we can be on our way.’

5

Saturday, 30 August

‘He got pissed and passed out, fell in the water. Drowned while unconscious,’ said the barrel-chested man squeezed into the passenger seat.