his own better instincts, Helgi decided to do without them. As they walked him from the car into the police station, he felt the muscles in Reynir’s arm tense and tighten for a second, as if ready to explode, and he braced himself for a fight before Reynir relaxed.
Reynir looked smaller than his usual outdoors self, a different character once out of his natural environment, as if cowed by the artificial light and the formal atmosphere of the police station.
‘Reynir from Tunga?’ asked Anna Björg’s colleague, Arnar, a young man on his first posting who spent most of his time in the western half of the county. Reynir’s reputation had clearly gone before him.
‘Yes, Arnar. That’s Reynir from Tunga in that cell and we’re going to have our work cut out now,’ she said grimly. ‘I’d like you to sit in with Helgi, to start with at least. I have a few other enquiries to deal with right now.’
The interview began late, delayed by the difficulty of tracking down a lawyer to represent Reynir, but when the puffing, elderly man finally arrived with profuse apologies, Helgi set the computer to record and went through the formalities.
‘You know why you’re here?’
‘I can guess,’ Reynir said in a truculent tone. ‘Something to do with Borgar Jónsson, I’d say, and someone giving the bastard who killed Kjartan’s boy what he deserved.’
‘Where were you on Sunday?’
Reynir shrugged. ‘At home. Did a bit of work in the barn, but I didn’t tire myself out. Stayed in all afternoon, watched the football. Arsenal won.’
‘I have a sighting of that Land Cruiser in your yard down south on Sunday.’
‘Not me. Sorry, Helgi,’ Reynir grinned. ‘And I told you where I was on Sunday night.’
‘That’s just it. Mæja’s Hjörtur wasn’t at work on Sunday night, so you could hardly have been keeping Hjörtur’s bed warm for him.’
Reynir’s face darkened. ‘I don’t know where Hjörtur was, but he wasn’t in his own bed. That’s for sure.’
‘Were you in Reykjavík on Sunday, Reynir?’
‘Don’t be stupid. I was at home during the day and I was cuddled up with Mæja from before dinner time. She’ll tell you.’
‘We’ll see. I spoke to Mæja today and it doesn’t take a genius to work out she was lying. Why, Reynir? Why’s she so frightened of you? Handy with your fists, are you?’
‘I can take care of myself,’ Reynir growled, less convincingly now.
‘I know you don’t mind mixing it up outside Húnaver or Kántrybær now and again. But slapping your girlfriend around? Come on, that stinks. You think nobody’s noticed?’
‘Hell, you keep out of what’s not your business, Helgi from Hraunbær!’ Reynir shouted. ‘Throwing your weight around because you’ve got a badge or something. You should be ashamed of yourself. Some of us remember what a snot-nosed brat you used to be. We’ll see how good you are at standing up for yourself one day.’
‘Am I supposed to take that as a threat, Reynir?’ Helgi asked quietly and the lawyer whispered in Reynir’s ear.
‘Get away from me, you old fool,’ Reynir swore at the old man, who sat back in his chair and folded his arms. ‘Helgi, you can take that any sweet way you want,’ he sneered.
‘Fair enough. In that case I’ll interpret it as a threat against a police officer,’ Helgi said, raising an eyebrow at the old lawyer, who waved a hand in disgust. ‘At 13:45 on Sunday a blue Toyota clipped another car’s wing going round the roundabout on Reykjanesbraut, right by the Læjkargata turnoff in Hafnarfjördur, and if the old fella who had his car scraped hadn’t called 112, then a patrol car wouldn’t have turned up at the scene with its lights on.’
Reynir grimaced in impatience. ‘Where is this shit going?’ he demanded.
‘All in good time. I don’t suppose you know that all police cars are fitted with cameras that record automatically when the blue lights are on?’
‘And? So what?’
‘Your
Reynir looked smaller than his usual outdoors self, a different character once out of his natural environment, as if cowed by the artificial light and the formal atmosphere of the police station.
‘Reynir from Tunga?’ asked Anna Björg’s colleague, Arnar, a young man on his first posting who spent most of his time in the western half of the county. Reynir’s reputation had clearly gone before him.
‘Yes, Arnar. That’s Reynir from Tunga in that cell and we’re going to have our work cut out now,’ she said grimly. ‘I’d like you to sit in with Helgi, to start with at least. I have a few other enquiries to deal with right now.’
The interview began late, delayed by the difficulty of tracking down a lawyer to represent Reynir, but when the puffing, elderly man finally arrived with profuse apologies, Helgi set the computer to record and went through the formalities.
‘You know why you’re here?’
‘I can guess,’ Reynir said in a truculent tone. ‘Something to do with Borgar Jónsson, I’d say, and someone giving the bastard who killed Kjartan’s boy what he deserved.’
‘Where were you on Sunday?’
Reynir shrugged. ‘At home. Did a bit of work in the barn, but I didn’t tire myself out. Stayed in all afternoon, watched the football. Arsenal won.’
‘I have a sighting of that Land Cruiser in your yard down south on Sunday.’
‘Not me. Sorry, Helgi,’ Reynir grinned. ‘And I told you where I was on Sunday night.’
‘That’s just it. Mæja’s Hjörtur wasn’t at work on Sunday night, so you could hardly have been keeping Hjörtur’s bed warm for him.’
Reynir’s face darkened. ‘I don’t know where Hjörtur was, but he wasn’t in his own bed. That’s for sure.’
‘Were you in Reykjavík on Sunday, Reynir?’
‘Don’t be stupid. I was at home during the day and I was cuddled up with Mæja from before dinner time. She’ll tell you.’
‘We’ll see. I spoke to Mæja today and it doesn’t take a genius to work out she was lying. Why, Reynir? Why’s she so frightened of you? Handy with your fists, are you?’
‘I can take care of myself,’ Reynir growled, less convincingly now.
‘I know you don’t mind mixing it up outside Húnaver or Kántrybær now and again. But slapping your girlfriend around? Come on, that stinks. You think nobody’s noticed?’
‘Hell, you keep out of what’s not your business, Helgi from Hraunbær!’ Reynir shouted. ‘Throwing your weight around because you’ve got a badge or something. You should be ashamed of yourself. Some of us remember what a snot-nosed brat you used to be. We’ll see how good you are at standing up for yourself one day.’
‘Am I supposed to take that as a threat, Reynir?’ Helgi asked quietly and the lawyer whispered in Reynir’s ear.
‘Get away from me, you old fool,’ Reynir swore at the old man, who sat back in his chair and folded his arms. ‘Helgi, you can take that any sweet way you want,’ he sneered.
‘Fair enough. In that case I’ll interpret it as a threat against a police officer,’ Helgi said, raising an eyebrow at the old lawyer, who waved a hand in disgust. ‘At 13:45 on Sunday a blue Toyota clipped another car’s wing going round the roundabout on Reykjanesbraut, right by the Læjkargata turnoff in Hafnarfjördur, and if the old fella who had his car scraped hadn’t called 112, then a patrol car wouldn’t have turned up at the scene with its lights on.’
Reynir grimaced in impatience. ‘Where is this shit going?’ he demanded.
‘All in good time. I don’t suppose you know that all police cars are fitted with cameras that record automatically when the blue lights are on?’
‘And? So what?’
‘Your
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