of Katla Einarsdóttir and both of her sons, drawing a blank with Katla and Einar, but she whistled as she saw that Elmar Kjartansson had a significant police record in spite of his youth. She hit print and poured herself a mug of coffee while the printer in the corner whispered to itself, before sitting back to read through the list of convictions and the statements of the arresting officers.
She almost regretted not dragging the boy back to Reykjavík with her and letting him stew in an interview room for an hour or two. Elmar had spent three months in a low-security prison when he was eighteen years old for repeated thefts and petty drug offences, and had graduated to assault a year later after a drunken argument. The fact that he was on parole and was due to spend six months in prison once a place was available accounted for his nerves while she had questioned him in his mother’s kitchen, and she was furious at her own carelessness for not having looked up his records first.
She rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock, realizing that she had been on her feet since before seven that morning and it was going to be touch and go if she were to be home before seven as promised. She shut the computer down and stood up to leave. A look out of the window showed her that Ívar Laxdal, the National Commissioner’s Deputy and the man she reported to while the senior officer supposedly at the head of the serious crime unit was still on long-term sick leave, had already left.
On the way down the stairs she toyed with the idea of asking Herbert the cop in Selfoss to collect Elmar Kjartansson and bring him to Reykjavík, but on reflection, she decided against it. Whatever the boy had on his conscience, she felt it was unlikely to be murder, and his other misdemeanours could be dealt with by Herbert and the local force.
‘He’s as guilty as hell, but of what?’ she muttered to herself, fumbling in her coat pocket for her car key and watching the lights flash as she clicked the fob.
Helgi decided that it was killing two birds with one stone as he sat alone in the bar at the town’s only hotel and nursed a small beer. Anna Björg, the local police officer, had been delayed dealing with a road traffic accident on the main road a dozen miles away and had promised to meet him for a drink instead of in the more formal surroundings of the police station.
Schmaltzy seventies muzak oozed from a speaker somewhere over his head as he checked his phone for messages and sent Halla a text to let her know he had arrived. She hadn’t been delighted at his suddenly being sent out of town, but the prospect of a block of days off in lieu and the promised fitting of a new bathroom cabinet had mollified her.
He was wondering where Anna Björg was and considering calling her when cold air curled around his ankles as the hotel’s main door opened, heralding her arrival. Helgi stood up and saw her grin with pleasure at seeing him. She was stouter than he remembered and her face had a few lines that hadn’t been there last time they met, but the windblown flaxen hair and the red cheeks hadn’t changed.
‘
Hæ
, Helgi,’ she said, hugging him and bestowing a kiss on his cheek. ‘Sorry I’m late, but a truck came off the road between here and the Hook and we had to organize a tow truck to haul it out. I was so covered in mud afterwards that I had to go home and change.’
‘No problem. As you’re out of uniform, can I get you a beer?’
‘Duh. Stupid question, city boy. But you’re a guest here so I’ll get them,’ she said decisively. ‘Go on, sit yourself down.’
Two beers arrived as Helgi was staring out of the window into the blackness beyond. Anna Björg lifted hers high to clink glasses.
‘
Skál
. Now, what brings you back to these old haunts? But first, how have you been keeping?’
‘Oh, you know. Middle age starting to kick in with a vengeance now.’
‘And the little ones? Two, three of them?’
‘Two,’ Helgi
She almost regretted not dragging the boy back to Reykjavík with her and letting him stew in an interview room for an hour or two. Elmar had spent three months in a low-security prison when he was eighteen years old for repeated thefts and petty drug offences, and had graduated to assault a year later after a drunken argument. The fact that he was on parole and was due to spend six months in prison once a place was available accounted for his nerves while she had questioned him in his mother’s kitchen, and she was furious at her own carelessness for not having looked up his records first.
She rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock, realizing that she had been on her feet since before seven that morning and it was going to be touch and go if she were to be home before seven as promised. She shut the computer down and stood up to leave. A look out of the window showed her that Ívar Laxdal, the National Commissioner’s Deputy and the man she reported to while the senior officer supposedly at the head of the serious crime unit was still on long-term sick leave, had already left.
On the way down the stairs she toyed with the idea of asking Herbert the cop in Selfoss to collect Elmar Kjartansson and bring him to Reykjavík, but on reflection, she decided against it. Whatever the boy had on his conscience, she felt it was unlikely to be murder, and his other misdemeanours could be dealt with by Herbert and the local force.
‘He’s as guilty as hell, but of what?’ she muttered to herself, fumbling in her coat pocket for her car key and watching the lights flash as she clicked the fob.
Helgi decided that it was killing two birds with one stone as he sat alone in the bar at the town’s only hotel and nursed a small beer. Anna Björg, the local police officer, had been delayed dealing with a road traffic accident on the main road a dozen miles away and had promised to meet him for a drink instead of in the more formal surroundings of the police station.
Schmaltzy seventies muzak oozed from a speaker somewhere over his head as he checked his phone for messages and sent Halla a text to let her know he had arrived. She hadn’t been delighted at his suddenly being sent out of town, but the prospect of a block of days off in lieu and the promised fitting of a new bathroom cabinet had mollified her.
He was wondering where Anna Björg was and considering calling her when cold air curled around his ankles as the hotel’s main door opened, heralding her arrival. Helgi stood up and saw her grin with pleasure at seeing him. She was stouter than he remembered and her face had a few lines that hadn’t been there last time they met, but the windblown flaxen hair and the red cheeks hadn’t changed.
‘
Hæ
, Helgi,’ she said, hugging him and bestowing a kiss on his cheek. ‘Sorry I’m late, but a truck came off the road between here and the Hook and we had to organize a tow truck to haul it out. I was so covered in mud afterwards that I had to go home and change.’
‘No problem. As you’re out of uniform, can I get you a beer?’
‘Duh. Stupid question, city boy. But you’re a guest here so I’ll get them,’ she said decisively. ‘Go on, sit yourself down.’
Two beers arrived as Helgi was staring out of the window into the blackness beyond. Anna Björg lifted hers high to clink glasses.
‘
Skál
. Now, what brings you back to these old haunts? But first, how have you been keeping?’
‘Oh, you know. Middle age starting to kick in with a vengeance now.’
‘And the little ones? Two, three of them?’
‘Two,’ Helgi
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