‘Ask Flosi to come and talk to me,’ Bergrós said again, holding Helena’s hand tight.

  ‘I promise.’ Helena hesitated. ‘Hopefully this will all become clear in a few days, and Flosi will be able to come and see you himself.’

  ‘These problems of Flosi’s are something to do with a money scam, aren’t they? Something to do with the Russians?’

  While she very much wanted to, Helena knew she couldn’t question Bergrós any further without raising her suspicions. She got back in her car, and after sending Beta the nurse a text to suggest a salad lunch, pondered Bergrós’ words. What made her think Flosi’s problems were down to a financial scam? And who were these Russians she had mentioned?

  36

  Flosi felt his head was ready to burst. It wasn’t exactly a headache, but a pounding in his head that pulsed with the rhythm of his heartbeat, so he could practically feel the veins in his temples swell with each contraction of his heart. This had been the second time today that the policeman had sat opposite him with that diffident expression on his face, demanding in his own understated way that Flosi answer a whole string of personal questions. As they came, the pulsing in his temples had increased, until he had finally yelled at the policeman.

  ‘What business is it of the police, and what does it have to do with Guðrún’s disappearance if I’d wanted more children or not? And how the hell can you imagine that Bergrós could have anything to do with Guðrún being abducted? She’s at least thirty kilos lighter than Guðrún. You can really imagine Bergrós overpowering her and whisking her away just like that? What kind of bullshit is this turning into? How about you coppers do something to search for Guðrún instead of sitting on your backsides and giving me a grilling? I’m not extorting money from myself!’

  The policeman said nothing for a moment, continuing to watch Flosi with his searching gaze, except that now, after he had raised his voice, Flosi felt that the expression on the man’s face was not so much diffident as pitying.

  ‘I know it’s difficult,’ Daníel said at last, and then there was a long pause during which Flosi felt all the breath had been knocked out of him, as if his body was a punctured balloon and the air was leaking out of it. He no longer had the energy to curse or shout. But the pressure in his head was still there, with a rhythmic pulse in his temple.

  The policeman finally spoke again.

  ‘The way we work is that we consider every possibility, and then rule them out one by one. If we approach things from the other end, there’s the risk of becoming too focused on a single theory, which could lead the investigation into a dead end.’

  Flosi nodded, even though he wanted to shake his head.

  ‘But you concentrate endlessly on me and my personal life, when you should be checking out which foreign crime gangs have been active here…’ He hadn’t finished speaking when Daníel held up an index finger, indicating that he had something to say.

  ‘We are looking into all that as well,’ he said, to Flosi’s relief. ‘We have put out feelers in every possible direction, even outside the country, so we certainly aren’t only focusing on you and your family. But the fact of the matter is that you, your daughter and your mistress all had good reason to want Guðrún out of the way, and in reality we can’t be sure that the abduction hasn’t been orchestrated as a distraction from another crime.’

  Flosi felt a shudder of horror.

  ‘What do you mean?’ he gasped. ‘You mean that Guðrún could be dead?’

  Daníel shook his head.

  ‘I’ve no reason to believe that’s the case,’ he said. ‘There was nothing about the state of the house to indicate that. But one must keep an open mind. You are expecting a child you’ve long desired with another woman, who could be tired of having to share the father of her child with Guðrún, and Sara Sól, your sole heir, could see your assets being split in two by an impending divorce. So it’s possible to conclude that Guðrún had been getting in the way of you all.’

  ‘What total crap,’ Flosi muttered to himself, while his thoughts whirled through his full-to-bursting head. ‘Sara Sól doesn’t need to be concerned, because to start with she doesn’t know about Bergrós, and secondly, Guðrún and I had a pre-nuptial agreement.’

  ‘Had?’ Daníel asked, eyebrows lifting.

  ‘Have,’ Flosi said, wishing that he could punch himself on the jaw. It was no surprise the police were suspicious considering he constantly referred to Guðrún in the past tense. He couldn’t understand what was going on inside his own head. He could feel the pulsing growing stronger and stronger, until it became painful. It wasn’t just in his temples, but deep inside his brain, where his thoughts were fogged and he no longer understood anything, least of all himself.

  37

  Áróra had never seen Michael at such a loss. She had always felt that this broad-shouldered Scot was the completely imperturbable type. Generally he was cheerful, always looking for positive solutions. There was hardly a millionaire Michael hadn’t helped find a place to keep his cash safe, somewhere offshore. But he and Áróra didn’t always agree. Sometimes their interests lay in different directions, as her work was mainly about finding hidden money and his was mainly to do with hiding it. It was remarkable that they had worked together so many times before. Occasionally Michael had clients who needed to track down money hidden by bitter colleagues or betrayed spouses. Áróra was grateful for these assignments and his recommendations, but always backed away when Michael tried to tempt her into working for him permanently.

  Now, though, Michael seemed dispirited. He sat and turned his phone over and over in his hands, and had a couple of times seemed about to say something but hadn’t been able get the words out. They were in a restaurant in Kensington he had chosen and there was plenty of time before her evening flight to Iceland.

  ‘What is it, Michael?’

  He sighed, about to speak, but looked relieved when the waiter appeared to take their drinks order. As soon as the waiter was gone, Áróra repeated her question.

  ‘Shall we talk about it after lunch?’ Michael suggested.

  Áróra shook her head.

  ‘Out with it,’ she said. ‘Something’s bugging you, so let’s hear it.’

  Michael shifted in his seat and leaned forward, his voice low, almost a whisper.

  ‘I’m afraid that I may have involved you in something unfortunate,’ he said, and his eyes flitted around the room, as if he was making certain they weren’t overheard.

  ‘Unfortunate?’ Áróra said with a grin. ‘That’s a very English way of putting it.’

  ‘In that case, I’ll translate it into plain Scottish for you. I’m scared as fuck because I’ve managed to drop you into a pile of shit up to your knees.’ Áróra laughed, and Michael smiled and sighed. ‘And I’m afraid that I’m going to have to ask you to dig even deeper into this.’

  ‘Tell me more,’ Áróra said once the waiter had delivered their drinks and taken their lunch order.

  ‘This account of Flosi’s in Panama,’ Michael said, running a hand over the stubble on his scalp. Áróra nodded encouragingly. ‘Usually Flosi doesn’t touch it. The funds there don’t go through any of the accounting I do, and of course they’re not declared. Flosi said that he’d declare the cash as income when he decided to move it all to Iceland.’

  ‘I know how it works,’ Áróra said. ‘Let’s skip the teaching your grandmother to suck eggs stuff, shall we?’

  Michael laughed awkwardly.

  ‘Yeah, I know,’ he continued. ‘Flosi has maybe told you, but he – or to be more precise, we, because I helped him back then when he wanted to set up this account – have used this for the commission he gets from companies when he distributes their products, mainly machinery, to retailers in Iceland and the UK. These are healthy amounts of money, and I have to admit that I hadn’t checked this account for a few years. I just expected these commission payments to pile up steadily.’

  ‘But what…?’ Áróra was curious, not least because of the awkward expression he wore. His broad, dark face was stiff with tension; it was a look she hadn’t seen before.

  ‘But now, when I took a look in there to withdraw these two million euros for the ransom, there was something of a surprise waiting for me.’

  ‘What surprise?’

  ‘Now there are significantly higher amounts than just those commissions in the account,’ Michael whispered, dropping his voice as the waiter swept over to them, bringing chicken for Michael and an English breakfast for Áróra.

  ‘So you thought you were taking part in a small-time swindle, and now you’ve found out that you’re unintentionally involved in some massive scam,’ Áróra teased, and felt her mouth watering at the aroma of bacon. She picked up her knife and fork, ready to make a start, but put them down when she saw Michael’s expression. He seemed not far from tears, swallowing a few times, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his muscular throat. Áróra felt goose pimples break out as she realised that he wasn’t nervous or stressed – he was terrified.

  ‘It’s no joke,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Your average Joe doesn’t keep this kind of money hidden away.’

  38

  To Helena’s mind, Beta was the personification of robust health. She sat in the lotus position on the sofa, lifting the environmentally-friendly bamboo bowl to her chin as she spooned up salad with an eagerness that bordered on greed. Her naked body still glistened with sweat, and she undoubtedly needed to replace some of the calories they had burned off in bed. She was a joy to the eye, and Helena delighted in allowing her eyes to rest on Beta’s breasts while they ate.

  ‘I’ll bring the salad next time,’ Helena smiled.

  ‘Yes, well. About that,’ Beta said, putting her bowl aside, chewing her last mouthful and dabbing at her lips. ‘I don’t think there’s going to be a next time. This is our last salad lunch. And our last of anything.’

  ‘Really?’

  Helena put down her salad bowl, even though she had only eaten half of the contents.

  ‘Yeah. This isn’t doing what it should for me,’ Beta said, and her smile was so lovely that Helena felt that what she was saying didn’t fit with the look on her face.

  ‘Wait a minute. Has something changed?’ she asked.

  Beta nodded.

  ‘I’m the one who has changed,’ she said and her smile broadened, as if there were some secret behind it. It was as if some inner memory instinctively brought forth this happiness that made her face glow.

  ‘Going steady? In love with someone?’

  ‘Actually, no,’ Beta said. ‘But now I’m ready to be. Right now I’d be ready for a little romance. This arrangement – you know, salad lunches and hook-ups – isn’t doing it for me anymore.’

  Helena felt an odd burning sensation rush up her throat. This was a bizarre conversation to have so soon after the intimacy they had shared only a short while ago.

  ‘I’d be prepared to change the arrangement,’ she said, completely at odds with her own convictions. She longed to keep the system unchanged. She wanted to be able to call on Beta and meet her at short notice, as they had done up to now. But naturally there could be some flexibility – some way to take into account what Beta might be looking for. ‘I’d be happy to go out on dates, y’know, dinners and movies or something.’

  But Beta’s smile stayed where it was and she shook her head.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘You’re fantastic just as you are, but you aren’t the type I’d date.’

  ‘Oh.’

  Helena was at a loss to know how to respond, so she muttered some apology.

  Beta laughed.

  ‘It’s perfectly fine,’ she said. ‘No apology required. I’m not even remotely bitter. I just don’t see that I could fall for you beyond, you know.’ She waved her hand to give her words emphasis, and Helena suddenly became aware of her own nakedness. She snatched up a blanket from the sofa and wrapped it around herself, stood up and went to the bedroom, from there to the bathroom, and locked the door behind her.

  She sat on the lid of the toilet for a while, surprised by the hammering of her own heart, strong and fast, as if she had been given a shot of adrenaline as powerful as a punch in the face. It was a feeling she hadn’t experienced much since leaving rapid-response shifts. She got to her feet, stood under the shower and her skin and lungs contracted under the ice-cold blast, so that she let out a low unintended cry.

  When she went back to the living room with a towel around her, Beta was gone. The environmentally-friendly bowls stood side by side on the coffee table, Beta’s empty apart from a scrunched-up serviette and a wooden fork, her own still half full of salad that she now couldn’t bring herself to finish.

  39

  Helena was late and when she finally arrived, her dark hair was damp and she smelled of soap. She had presumably taken a shower, either at home or at the station, but Daníel didn’t have an opportunity to ask why, as his phone rang. It was Palli.

  ‘I’ve been through the traffic CCTV twice, and there’s nothing to be seen,’ Palli said. ‘Not a thing.’ There was a bitterness in his voice, as if he wanted Daníel to be aware of the endless valuable hours that had been wasted. ‘I’ve matched all the numbers against the database and there’s nothing except the usual traffic offences, driving under the influence, all that shit. Nothing that’s even slightly suspicious.’

  ‘All right, my friend,’ Daníel said. ‘I owe you three-quarters of a case of beer for that.’

  He felt it worthwhile mentioning the beer at this moment, as Palli wouldn’t be delighted by the next assignment waiting for him.

  ‘Hey, what do I have to do to make it a full crate?’

  ‘Go over the CCTV again, with your attention on something other than the cars.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Watch the recording again, but this time watch out for anything other than cars,’ he said, and Daníel ended the call ahead of the expected string of expletives. He went into the kitchen, where Helena was talking to Flosi. Daníel had already briefed Flosi on the story he was to tell Guðrún’s friend Sigurlaug, as well as what not to say. He would have liked to have been able to prepare Helena in more detail, but there was no time, as the doorbell rang and Flosi grimaced as he tucked his shirt into his trousers.

  ‘OK,’ Daníel said. ‘As we discussed. Helena, you’re one of Flosi’s staff at the wholesale business, and you know what’s happening. Your role is to make it possible for Flosi to continue to run the business by running errands and ferrying paperwork back and forth.’

  Helena nodded and Flosi went to the door.

  Daníel heard an exchange of words in the hall and waited a moment before going to join them and extending a hand to the visitor.

  ‘Daníel,’ he said. ‘Flosi’s cousin.’

  ‘Sigurlaug,’ the woman said, her handshake warm and firm. She looked to be approaching fifty, but had retained her youthful figure, accentuated by her tailored suit, and her hair and make-up were impeccable. ‘It’s best to say that I’m primarily Guðrún’s friend, although Flosi and I are naturally good friends as well.’

  ‘I’m a distant relative of Flosi’s. I worked for him for a while when I was a youngster, so we’ve kept in touch ever since,’ he said, and this explanation appeared to take Sigurlaug by surprise as she looked Daníel up and down. Flosi took Sigurlaug’s arm and steered her to the kitchen.

  ‘Coffee?’ he suggested, and she nodded.

  Daníel followed, prepared to jump in if Helena’s introduction were to go wrong. He wasn’t sure how good a performer she would turn out to be. But there was no need, as Helena wasn’t in the kitchen. The back door stood half open, swinging in the breeze that chased a few russet leaves around the floor.

  Daníel went to the door and closed it, scanning the garden for Helena, but she was nowhere to be seen. Flosi acted as if nothing were amiss and began making coffee, while Sigurlaug sat at the table and Daníel’s phone pinged as a message arrived.

  He opened the short text message that Helena had clearly sent in a hurry.

  I know her. She knows I’m a cop.

  40

  Sigurlaug’s reactions left Flosi stunned. She appeared to make all the appropriate responses to the news that Guðrún had been abducted – initially disbelief, then astonishment and finally concern. All the same, he couldn’t help feeling that she was playing a part. Or maybe he was doing her a disservice. People reacted in all kinds of ways to bad news, and he couldn’t say that he knew Sigurlaug well enough to make up his mind about what she was actually thinking. She was a bag of nerves, that much was certain.

  ‘You mustn’t go to the police,’ she said. ‘If they’re going to … to…’ She hesitated and Daníel took the opportunity to put in a word.

  ‘Flosi isn’t going to the police,’ he said. ‘My cousin and I have discussed this at great length, and we reckon this is the best way to handle things.’

  ‘You must pay the ransom,’ Sigurlaug said, and now Flosi could see how agitated she had become. There was a tension that ran all the way along her jawline. ‘Do exactly what the kidnappers say. You mustn’t take any risks.’

  ‘Of course not,’ Flosi muttered, and Daníel nodded in agreement, giving him a rapid wink of one eye to tell him to start asking the questions they had talked through beforehand. ‘But have you noticed anything unusual about Guðrún’s behaviour recently?’

  Sigurlaug started.

  ‘What do you mean? What sort of unusual?’

  She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in her chair. Flosi noticed that Daníel watched her with interest.