When the phone rang, Chet Baker was on the record player, quite literally, in the form of an old vinyl LP from Helgi’s father’s collection. The collection was full of priceless gems, and Helgi treated the records with the same care as he did the old books, so there wasn’t a scratch to be seen on any of them.
Aníta was due round any minute. She was in town with friends and had stayed out longer than planned, giving Helgi a welcome opportunity to tidy up the flat and finish his book.
He immediately had a horrible feeling that it was Bergthóra calling him. For a while, he’d kidded himself that she had come to terms with the situation, that their relationship was over and would never be reignited. He had hoped she would go into rehab, but in reality he hadn’t a clue how she was doing. He didn’t follow her on social media or ask for news of her from their tiny handful of mutual friends.
The fact was, he didn’t care what happened to her, he’d rather forget she had ever existed, only now she had forced her way back into his life.
He reached for his phone; the number wasn’t one he recognized.
He could feel his dread mounting, the veins throbbing in his head. The ringing went on and on, each ring seeming louder and more importunate than the last, until his heart was racing and he could feel sweat breaking out all over his body.Hell.
He answered anyway.
A good police officer is always on duty, his first boss in the police used to say.
‘Hello.’
‘Is that Helgi?’
A woman’s voice, but not Bergthóra’s. He caught his breath.
‘Helgi, can you hear me? It’s Rut.’
He breathed a sigh of relief.
Elín must have turned up, or her publisher would hardly be disturbing him on a Saturday evening.
‘Yes, it is. Good to hear from you, Rut. How are you? Is there any news?’
‘Not as such, no.’
He was simultaneously disappointed but pleased with this answer. It was a disappointment that Elín was still missing, but, on the other hand, this case could be his chance to really shine in his job.
‘You haven’t heard from Elín, then?’
‘No, I haven’t. Have you?’
‘No, the investigation is still in its early stages, but don’t worry, everything’s going in the right direction.’
‘Yes, I see.’ She allowed a pause to develop. ‘I’ve been talking to my husband, and he reminded me… or, well… I don’t want to complicate things unnecessarily, it was all a long time ago, but…’
‘Fire away. You never know what details might put us on the trail, Rut.’
In that instant, the doorbell rang. He hadn’t given Aníta a key to the flat yet; somehow the subject had never come up, but it could only be a matter of days before he did. Unless it was too big a step for them at this stage.
Again, he heard the echo of his father’s voice:good things come to those who wait…
‘Just hang on a sec,’ he said to Rut, then got up and opened the front door.
Aníta smiled at him, and he smiled back, indicating the phone. She followed him through to the sitting room.
‘Sorry, what were you saying, Rut?’
‘I don’t suppose this will help, but the thing is that I’ve known Elín for nearly half a century, as you’re aware. And she has occasionally disappeared like this before.’
‘What?’
Why the hell hadn’t Rut mentioned this when they met?
