Quentin Bates - Cold Steal

‘Get him clear, will you?’ she gasped, coughed and doubled over, retching onto the black lava gravel as Geiri swung Orri over his shoulder and laid him on the ground next to the Golf. He came back for Gunna, helping her to her feet and half-carrying her to the car as the flames burned even more fiercely in the van, illuminating the little group in an unearthly light as the gouts of black smoke blotted out weak sunlight that fought manfully to break through the clouds after the downpour.

Gunna still felt dirty and the smell of burning clung to her in spite of a shower and clean clothes. Ívar Laxdal looked at her with respect as she dropped herself gingerly into the visitor’s chair in his office.

‘How’s Orri?’ she asked.

‘Sorry, Gunnhildur.’

‘Shit. You mean I was too late?’

‘I wouldn’t put it like that.’

Gunna scowled and smacked a fist into the palm of her other hand. ‘I knew I should have acted sooner. I should have grabbed the lot of them before they got out of town, before they had a chance to set that van on fire.’

‘Gunnhildur, you couldn’t have known.’

‘I should have known that they weren’t taking Orri somewhere for a sauna and a massage.’

She sighed, suddenly exhausted, and slumped in the chair, while Ívar Laxdal looked brighter and more cheerful than she had seen him for weeks. Gunna realized that the pressure on him had been relieved once Sunna María and the man with the hook nose were in custody. Ívar Laxdal could expect his superiors to be quietly satisfied that a difficult matter had been dealt with, and it occurred to her that she still had no idea of the man’s name.

‘So who is he?’ she asked abruptly.

‘Ívar Laxdal looked uncomfortable. ‘Our mystery man? He says his name’s Bruno Kovalchuk, and what’s interesting is that he claims diplomatic immunity.’

‘What? He’s embassy staff?’

‘It’s a bizarre claim, considering his country has no diplomatic presence in Iceland. He claims to be from Belarus, which doesn’t have an embassy here. But we have no choice but to jump through the hoops, so I’ve happily passed the whole headache over to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, which can deal with the Belarusian Embassy in London or Helsinki, or work through our consul in Minsk; not that I’m expecting anything to happen fast, and in the meantime he’s already been charged with assaulting a police officer.’

‘Me, once again.’

‘As you say, you. That’s enough to keep him locked away until this mess is sorted out.’

Gunna pursed her lips. ‘You’re not going to let him disappear, like. .’

‘Absolutely not, and as soon as wherever he comes from gets the idea that he was running a drugs operation, I don’t expect they’ll want to remember who he is. I’m half expecting them to just say his passport’s a forgery so they can forget about him.’

‘It was a speed ring, then? That’s what it was all about?’

Ívar Laxdal sat back, his face relaxed for the first time since Vilhelm Thorleifsson had been gunned down in his summer house.

‘That’s what it seems. According to the dentist’s delightful wife, Bruno was getting rid of members of the group who had doubts about expanding the business or who might have wanted a share of the profits.’

‘You mean they were getting rid of their business partners one at a time? Has she said anything about Elvar Pálsson?’

‘I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Eiríkur. He’s been in there with her since they were brought in. You want to sit in, or have you had enough?’

Gunna yawned. ‘I’ve had about four hours sleep in two days, so while I’m tempted to lean on Sunna María or Bruno, I’d probably be best off going home and seeing if any of my family actually recognize me. But, Alex? That was this Bruno guy, was it?’

‘So Sunna María says. She believes Bruno and Alex between them murdered Vilhelm Thorleifsson, and she thinks Bruno murdered Alex because he was unreliable. It sounds plausible to me. The question is how much she actually knows and how much she’s guessing.’

‘We know Bruno abducted Jóhann. What about the Latvian business partner, Boris Vadluga?’

Ívar Laxdal smiled humourlessly.

‘As clean as a whistle, ostensibly. Unless Bruno decides to say something and implicate him, then we have only his financial involvement with these people as a business partner and the main investor in the Vison fur farm. So it appears that Bruno Kovalchuk, Sunna María and others were using Boris Vadluga’s businesses as a front for their drug operation. I’ll have to leave it to the financial crime division and the police in Latvia to decide whether or not he was part of all this.’

Gunna stretched. The day’s tension and the tumble from the black four-by-four had left her stiff and aching, although she was delighted that Sunna María had broken her fall. ‘So what’s your plan of action?’

‘We have to establish that Bruno Kovalchuk, whoever he is, really did murder Vilhelm Thorleifsson and Alex Snetzler, what happened to Juris, and if Elvar Pálsson is still alive or if he has been disposed of as well. We have evidence that he abducted Jóhann, so there’s no question of bail.’

‘And how much of all this was Sunna María party to?’

‘Precisely. What are your thoughts on that?’

Gunna pondered. ‘My guess is that she knew nothing about Alex. When we dug up the body in the foundations of her house, it was obvious that she was frightened and surprised. So was I,’ Gunna admitted. ‘I expected to find her husband under there. But I reckon she knew damned well that Jóhann had been abducted, although that’s something else we have to get to the bottom of. Dumping a city dweller like him in a place like Vatnsendi is tantamount to murder in my book. The man’s extraordinarily fortunate that he survived, and that’s another whole line of questioning I’m going to have to deal with.’

‘Where is Jóhann? Gone home?’

‘I gather he’s left hospital and is staying with his son. I don’t suppose he’s in a hurry to go home to Kópavogsbakki.’

‘He’s aware that his wife may have tried to murder him? I wonder why they didn’t just dump him in the foundations like they did with Alex?’

Gunna shrugged. ‘Who knows? Maybe they wanted to maintain an illusion that Jóhann had walked off and vanished into the countryside in a fit of mid-life crisis? Your guess is as good as mine, but between them, I’m convinced we have the two of them responsible in one way or another for all those killings and probably a few more that we don’t know about yet.’

‘I’m looking forward to seeing your full report.’

‘Probably as much as I’m not looking forward to writing it. But are. .’ Gunna raised her eyes briefly towards the ceiling. ‘Happy with you now?’

‘They’re happy with us, shall we say, Gunnhildur? They’re happy with us.’

Jóhann looked frail and Gunna thought he had a chastened air about him as he sat surrounded by plants in the conservatory of his son’s house, wrapped in a thick sweater in spite of the place being uncomfortably hot. He cradled a glass of juice in his hands and looked at Gunna blankly.

‘My son tells me that you were searching for me all last week. Is that right?’

‘You haven’t spoken to your wife, have you?’ Gunna asked, ignoring his question.

‘No, of course not. You were very insistent that I shouldn’t and I still don’t understand why.’

‘In that case, I’ll tell you,’ Gunna said, sitting down without being invited as the dentist’s son and his wife fussed in the background. ‘Your wife is right now in an interview room at Hverfisgata where she’s tying herself in all kinds of knots. Any idea who Bruno Kovalchuk is?’