Frozen Assets

Ósk began to rise to her feet but stopped halfway at the sight of the expression on Gunna’s face. ‘She’s not here today.’

‘Phone number? Address?’

‘I’m not at liberty to divulge that,’ she repeated angrily. Gunna could see the blood rising across her neck and into her face.

‘You will be if I come back with a warrant.’

‘If you do, our legal team will be waiting for you.’

‘Look, I won’t come back with a search warrant, it’ll be a bloody arrest warrant.’

‘For what, may I ask?’

‘You may well ask, and it’ll be for possession of and intent to supply a class A drug, and I’ll alert every officer in the country to arrest her on the spot and haul your boss to the nearest police station until I get there. While you’re at it, I want her sister Erna’s address and phone numbers as well.’

Ósk scribbled phone numbers and addresses on a slip of paper and passed it across.

‘You didn’t get that from me,’ she snarled, her face flushed and this time rising to her full imposing height.

‘We’ll see. I’m warning you not to let her know that we’re on the way. If she’s not at home, I’ll be back and you’ll be charged with obstructing a police investigation. Let’s go,’ Gunna snapped, striding to the door with Bára, fumbling to answer her phone, at her heels.

‘That was fantastic,’ Bára said in admiration once the door had slammed shut behind them.

‘Bloody woman,’ Gunna rumbled as she ignored the lift and took the stairs three at a time. ‘I’m going to drop you at the Gullfoss and I want you to go through the staff who were on duty on Friday night. Find out who was there, and especially when Hårde left, and if he left with Erna. Find out where they went. They must have got a taxi if Erna was as pissed as Jón Oddur reckons.’

‘Right,’ Bára puffed, wondering how someone built on generous lines could have so much energy.

‘Seven thirty tomorrow. Let me know then what you’ve found out.’

32

Tuesday, 30 September

Birna Ólafsdóttir lay back as far as she could and closed her eyes, but she kept the seat fully upright out of consideration for the people in the row behind. The rest of the party were scattered around the aircraft, the price of having changed their arrangements at short notice. She was relieved to be seated between strangers, away from colleagues and their need to discuss work.

She was not unhappy to have the trip to Berlin cut short, although she carefully made no outward show of it. A civil servant is just that, she felt, a servant with a role to play during working hours. What her personal opinions were did not come into the equation and she also took a quiet pride in maintaining a distinct separation between her career and her personal life.

The ministerial party had not been due to return to Reykjavík until Friday, with a morning flight after the obligatory cocktail party scheduled for Thursday evening and the formal dinner that followed. This was something that she would have been excused, leaving the Minister to consume rather too many liqueurs and smoke the cigars she knew his wife did not allow him at home. Birna had not scheduled anything for her Thursday evening in Berlin beyond a room service meal and an hour or two in front of the television after a long bath.

But a walk along Kufürstendamm yesterday morning and coffee, as if by chance, with some old friends while the Minister was still clearing his head of the previous evening’s brandy had been enough of a pleasure to make the trip as a whole enjoyable.

***

A police car was already in the drive of Sigurjóna and Bjarni Jón’s discreet mansion in Seltjarnarnes when Gunna parked behind it. Gunna scowled to herself, wondering what was happening as she scrunched up the gravel path in the first frost of the autumn to ring the bell.

A young policewoman answered the door. Gunna recognized her and racked her memory for the girl’s name.

‘Edda, isn’t it?’ she hazarded.

‘Yeah, I’m Edda Sif. And you’re from Hvalvík, aren’t you? Gunnhildur? What brings you here?’

Gunna stepped back and motioned for Edda Sif to step outside as well.

‘What’s going on? This is Sigurjóna Huldudóttir’s place, isn’t it?’ she asked when they were out of earshot of the mansion’s gaping hallway.

‘That’s right. She’s inside with my partner. We had a report of a missing person and were sent here to get a statement straight away. It helps when your husband’s in the government,’ she added.

‘Who’s the missing person?’

‘Her sister, Erna Dan. You know, the hairdresser?’

‘OK, give me the gist of it.’

‘The call was an hour ago. It seems her sister hasn’t been seen since Friday night.’

‘But it’s only Tuesday now. We’re not talking about a child here.’

‘Yeah, I know, and it’s not as if the sister doesn’t have a history of vanishing for a few days now and again. I checked our system and she’s on that as well.’

‘What for?’

‘Drunk and disorderly, mostly. A few fights, just handbag waving, really. Always booze-related.’

‘Married? Kids?’