“What I mean is, you gave a statement putting Ómar right next to Steindór Hjálmarsson when he was killed. Am I right?”
“Yeah. And what?”
“Long Ommi was your mate, your best mate. You grew up together. You don’t help the coppers do the dirty on your mates. You could easily have said that you saw nothing and just kept out of it. Your statement and Svana’s statement helped put Long Ommi away. Your best mate and Svana’s former lover, one of many, you included, I understand. Right?”
“Well, yeah, me and Svana had a thing going for a while. But Ommi, I didn’t …”
“Didn’t what?”
“I didn’t make a statement to get back at him or anything like that.”
“So why, then?” Gunna asked sweetly. “Why squeal on your mate? It’s not as if you had any special love for coppers, is it?”
“Hell, no,” Óskar spat through his broken teeth.
“So why?”
“Nothing to say,” Óskar said firmly.
Gunna sat back and looked at Bjössi, his face one big question mark.
“All right, let’s try another theory, shall we? Correct me if I’m wrong, won’t you?” Gunna continued. “Of course you don’t dump on your mates. But maybe your mate wanted you to testify that he was following Steindór Hjálmarsson?”
Óskar’s eyes overflowed with panic and he looked desperately past her at the door, as if willing anyone in the world to come into the room and interrupt. Gunna leaned forward and looked straight into the smashed face and the frantic eyes.
“So who really attacked Steindór Hjálmarsson, Skari? Who has Ommi been covering for all these years? Who promised him a payday when he’s done the time? Who’s being protected? And why is Ommi out now, ahead of time and causing trouble all round? Why has he been settling scores? Why were you thrashed and why is Svana dead? Who else is on his list? Come on, Skari. We’re on to you. Spill the beans, will you?”
“N-n-n-nothing to say,” Óskar squawked, drops of spit flying in every direction as the words came out faster than his puffed lips could cope with them.
“You’re telling me everything I need to know, Skari,” Gunna continued in a gentle tone. “If you have nothing to say, that tells me you have plenty to hide, so I have every reason to dig a bit deeper.”
“Shut up! Fuck off out of it and leave me alone,” Óskar yelled furiously. “Nurse! Erla! Where are you?”
“Skari, just who are you scared of? You’re in hospital. Ommi’s not going to come and break your kneecaps in here, is he?”
“Get out! Nurse! Come here, quick!” Óskar roared, sweat rolling in rivulets from his thick black hair and down his forehead. He wiped his face with a sleeve and continued to bellow.
“Jeezus,” scolded the nurse as she came in, punching a button on the wall. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave. You’ve really upset him and he’ll have to be sedated again now.”
Gunna and Bjössi stepped back as a sandy-haired young doctor appeared and strapped an oxygen mask around Óskar’s face, while the nurse patted his hand soothingly. Gunna could still see Óskar’s wild eyes, even though he began to calm down as the doctor administered an injection.
“You’ll have to leave now,” he said seriously. “If you’ve caused any complications …”
“Just doing our job, Doctor,” Gunna assured him. “See you again soon, Skari,” she said over one shoulder as they left the room and the door banged shut behind them.
“Hell, Gunna. Were you trying to give the poor bastard a heart attack? Couldn’t you see what he was like?” Bjössi demanded outside.
“You were listening, weren’t you?”
“You’re serious about that, are you? That Long Ommi’s been doing time for someone else? You weren’t just winding Skari up?”
Gunna looked at him and frowned. “Bjössi, dear and trusted comrade-in-arms. Of course I was deadly serious. You don’t think I’d push him that far if there wasn’t something behind it? The more I find out, the more convinced I am. I want to be sure who did kill that poor bloke. There must be a bloody good reason for it, and anyone who can afford to give Long Ommi a payday for doing a long stretch must have seriously deep pockets.”
“It’s a right pig’s breakfast,” Gunna announced.
Ívar Laxdal’s brooding presence dominated the room. Eiríkur and Helgi sat in silence, ready to be called on.
“Go on,” he said. “Just the outline, not too many details.”
Gunna took a deep breath and picked up a marker pen. The others sat in silence while she drew a circle on the board and wrote a series of names around it.
“Steindór Hjálmarsson was killed ten years ago in a fight. Ómar Magnússon was convicted of the murder, which is all on record. Our information tells me that Ómar wasn’t responsible for the killing. It seems to me that someone was concerned that Steindór was going to blow the whistle on some very dodgy dealing with several municipal authorities in property that subsequently became extremely valuable. I’m convinced that Ómar was doing time for someone else.”
She drew arrows across the circle on the board to indicate the relationships.