The Darkness(24)

‘I’m a bit pushed for time, actually,’ was his opening comment, as if to mark his territory, convey the message that she was only there on his terms.

‘Me, too,’ she said, conscious that her days as a police officer were numbered. ‘I wanted to ask you about a young woman from Russia …’ She allowed a brief silence to develop, in which she studied áki’s reaction and thought she detected signs that he knew what she was talking about. His gaze flickered away for a second then locked with hers again.

‘Russia?’

‘She came to Iceland as an asylum-seeker,’ Hulda elaborated, deciding to plunge straight in without giving him any warning, ‘but it seems likely she was actually a victim of sex trafficking.’ This was the theory she was working on, so she might as well go ahead and state it as a fact.

‘I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hulda.’ His gaze remained locked with hers. ‘I’m not with you at all. Are you under the impression that I know this woman?’

Know, in the present tense. A sign that he knew nothing about Elena and what had happened to her, or that he was guilty and trying to throw her off the scent?

‘She’s dead,’ Hulda stated bluntly. ‘Her name was Elena. Her body turned up in a cove on Vatnsleysustr?nd.’

áki’s face remained expressionless.

But he didn’t seem about to show Hulda the door. He sat tight: self-possessed, outwardly respectable, in dark-blue jeans, white shirt, black leather jacket and shiny black shoes. His entire appearance, like his house and car, signalled affluence.

‘Nice house, by the way,’ Hulda remarked, surveying her surroundings. ‘What do you do for a living?’

‘Thanks. Though my wife deserves most of the credit. We enjoy being surrounded by beautiful things.’

Hulda smiled. ‘Beautiful’ wasn’t the first word that sprang to mind when she saw the furniture and interior decor; ‘soulless’ was the adjective she’d have chosen.

But she didn’t say anything, merely waited for him to answer her question.

‘I’m in the wholesale business,’ he said after a moment, clearly proud of the fact, or at least keen to give that impression.

‘What do you sell?’

‘What do you want?’ His smile widened, then he went on, more soberly: ‘Maybe I shouldn’t joke about it in front of a cop. I import a bit of this and a bit of that: alcohol, furniture, electrical goods, whatever can be sold on for a good margin. I hope being a capitalist isn’t a crime yet.’

‘Of course not. And that’s it?’

‘It?’

‘Were you acquainted with Elena at all? I can show you a photo of her.’

‘There’s no need. I can assure you I didn’t know her. I’ve never heard her name before, never met any Russian asylum-seekers, don’t do any business with Russia full stop. And I’m happily married, so I have no need to resort to hookers, if that’s what you’re implying.’ He still exuded an almost preternatural calm.

‘No, far from it,’ Hulda assured him. She was aware of a growing sense of unease, in spite of the opulent surroundings. The glass coffee table between them shone like a mirror, the room was light and airy, the late-afternoon sun sent shafts of light through the windows. áki gave the impression of being a perfectly respectable member of the public, polite, well groomed, good-looking even, yet her gut instinct told her she was crossing swords with a formidable adversary – and on his home ground.

Although the ensuing silence lasted only a few seconds, the time seemed to pass with infinite slowness.

‘Actually, what I wanted to ask …’ Unusually for her, Hulda was hesitant. She forced herself to continue: ‘What I wanted to ask is whether you were responsible for bringing her to the country.’

áki didn’t seem remotely disturbed.

‘Well, there’s a question. Are you asking me if I brought a prostitute into the country?’

‘Yes, or prostitutes.’

‘Now you’ve really lost me.’ His voice had acquired a slight edge, and Hulda felt suddenly, unaccountably, chilled, despite the warmth of the room.

‘I’m talking about trafficking,’ she went on doggedly. ‘Organized prostitution. According to my information, Elena was mixed up in that kind of racket.’

‘Interesting. And why exactly would you think that I’m involved in that line of business?’ áki’s voice had recovered its silky smoothness.

‘I don’t think anything,’ Hulda said hastily, reluctant to accuse him directly of being engaged in criminal activities when she had no solid evidence.

‘But you’re insinuating as much,’ he said, smiling again.

‘No, I’m simply asking if you know anything about this girl or that kind of activity?’

‘And I’ve already told you that I don’t. To be frank, I find it a bit much that a police officer should come knocking on the door of a law-abiding citizen like me, someone who’s always paid more than his fair share of tax, and coolly accuse me of running some kind of vice ring. Don’t you agree?’ He was still oddly calm, his voice level. Hulda wondered if an innocent man wouldn’t have been more affronted, more self-righteously angry.