Sævaldur stopped a few steps past her. “The guy who topped Bjartmar. He’s the one who sent all those blackmail demands. Thought of that?”
“Come on.”
“All right. So there’s an accomplice.”
Gunna stopped and looked back at him. “Like who?”
“Like his wife. It’s obvious enough.”
“You are joking, surely?”
“No, of course not.”
“Good grief,” Gunna muttered to herself, making her way back up and leaving Sævaldur on the stairs.
Back at her desk, she remembered that Eiríkur was busy. She drummed the desk with her fingers and dialled Helgi.
“Any joy?” she demanded as soon as he replied.
“Sod all. The man has reams of paperwork and at least half a dozen bank accounts. His wife was delighted to find a couple with a good bit of cash in them that she didn’t know about. No big withdrawals, though.”
“Fair enough. Going to be long?”
“No, don’t think so.”
“All right. Eiríkur’s running an errand for me elsewhere, and I think it’s time I had another chat with Jónas Valur. I’ve been handed copies of half a dozen letters he’s received.”
“I’m sure he’ll be delighted when you show up. You don’t want to wait for me and we’ll go mob-handed?”
“No, just give me a call when you’re finished and on the way back here. It feels like it’s been a bloody long day. I’ll see if I can find Jónas Valur and then go home from there.”
There was no sign of life at Kleifar’s offices. Gunna rattled the door and got no response. She stepped back and looked at the building’s corrugated-iron plates that had once been red but were now closer to pink after decades of alternate sun and rain. She crossed the street for a better view and noticed a faint light behind one of the windows, as if an internal door had been left open. Curious, she walked to the corner of the building in the hope of being able to see through one of the end windows, but there was nothing but darkness.
Back in front of the building, she was about to give up when the faint light winked off. She rattled the door a second time. Again there was no response, and this time she walked quickly to the far end of the building and round the corner, where she could see Jónas Valur’s black Mercedes tucked away in a corner of the car park, enclosed on three sides by the backs of buildings. Suddenly the car’s internal light came on and Gunna hurried towards it.
Jónas Valur had emerged from the back door of the building, hauling behind him a suitcase on wheels that bumped down the steps. “Good evening, Jónas Valur. Going away somewhere?” Gunna asked as the car park’s security light clicked on and flooded them with its harsh glow.
Taken unawares, Jónas Valur didn’t even bother to hide his scowl of displeasure.
“This is bordering on harassment, Sergeant,” he groaned.
“Quite the contrary. I’ve been very gentle and understanding.”
“Look, I’ve had you or your colleagues prowling around for days, dogging my tracks and asking all kinds of questions about my movements. Don’t you think enough is enough?”
“When you’ve answered all my questions truthfully, then enough will be enough,” Gunna said, unfolding a sheet of paper from her pocket and handing it to him.
“What’s this?”
“Have a look. I’m wondering if it’s something familiar.”
He held it out at arm’s length and shook his head.
“Rubbish,” he said unconvincingly.
“And how many of these notes have you received?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he rasped, handing the note back to her.
“It’s a copy. Keep it and compare it to the rest of your collection,” Gunna told him. “Now, you wouldn’t be Shorty by any chance, would you?”
“Who the hell are you?” Jónas Valur grated, and Gunna saw the man’s eyes widening with surprise as he glared past her. She was halfway through turning to look over her shoulder when her head felt as if something had exploded next to her and she sensed the taste of iron on her tongue as the world went black.
Gunna shivered and wondered why she was unable to move. She knew she was lying on her back, and lifted her right hand to put it to her throbbing head. She kept her eyes firmly closed, sensing that opening them was going to hurt.
In the event, it wasn’t so bad, lying in half-darkness. She closed them again and tried a second time to move her legs and left arm. It was then she realized that something heavy was holding her down. She made an effort to open one eye again, and decided that the acrid smell of aftershave had to be coming from somewhere very close by.
With both eyes open and her free hand behind the back of her head to support it, she realized that the heavy weight on top of her was Jónas Valur, and that he was completely inert. Gently lowering her own head back to the cold ground, she fumbled for the man’s head, running her fingers from the top of the gleaming scalp down the face to try and locate a pulse among the folds of his neck.