Cold Comfort

“Interview suspended,” she said sharply, and immediately the volume from Diddi went down a notch. “Eiríkur, would you get Diddi some water.”

“Can I have a word, outside?” the young lawyer asked.

The top of the lawyer’s head came roughly up to Gunna’s shoulder.

“What are you doing in there?” she demanded with a pugnacious curl of her lower lip.

“I don’t know about what you might think, but what I have here is a pretty watertight case, what with witnesses, CCTV and all that. No weapon or cash, but we don’t even need that. Why? What’s your problem?”

“You’ll never get a conviction, never.”

“Really? You’d better tell my colleague Sævaldur that.”

“Come on. Look at the man. There’s a history of mental health problems going back years. We’ll plead diminished responsibility and he’ll be off. So why are you pushing him so hard?”

Gunna looked down into the young woman’s earnest face and wondered if she had graduated yesterday or the day before.

“Look, Valbjörg,” she said, and a look of surprise shot into the woman’s eyes as she realized Gunna had remembered her name. “I know Diddi of old and he’s had an absolutely miserable time since the day he was born. D’you really think I want to see him banged up in Litla-Hraun? Even with a GBH charge he’ll probably get a suspended sentence at worst, and that’s fine with me.”

“Yes, but my client-”

“Is definitely guilty. No question, and unfortunately he hurt someone rather badly. But where did the cash go? Where’s the weapon? How did he make a getaway? Who organized this? Diddi can only just about manage to decide what to have for breakfast, so there’s someone who forced him into this and that’s who I’d love to see in a cell, preferably for ever.”

“I see,” the lawyer agreed, grudgingly.

Diddi was calmer, but sniffed as he sat in a corner of the interview room. “He’s very distressed,” the social worker announced. “I should call a doctor, really. He needs medication.”

“If you think that’s appropriate,” Gunna said dubiously, sitting next to Diddi, hunched in his grubby parka. “Diddi,” she said softly, “listen to me. I’ve asked your dad to sit with us. Is that all right with you?”

He nodded in reply.

“Will you be happier with him here as well?”

Diddi nodded again, slowly this time.

“Is there anything you want to tell me before he gets here?”

He shook his head and Gunna patted his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, Diddi. Don’t try and make anything up. Keep to what really happened and you’ll be all right.”

“Am I going to prison?” he asked in a small voice.

“I don’t know, Diddi. That’s not for me to decide, but you did something wrong when you cut that man’s hand.”

“I didn’t mean to. He got in the way, shouting at me like that.”

He looked up mournfully at the social worker. “I’m not going to prison, am I, Axel?”

“Not if I can help it,” the man replied.

“All right, Diddi,” Gunna said in the kindliest voice she could manage. “Your dad will be here in just a minute, so shall we start again?”

“All right.”

“I’m going to be completely straight with you. I’m not really interested in you robbing the bank, and if that man who tried to talk to you hadn’t been hurt, I’d do my best to make as little of this as I could. Understand?”

Diddi nodded wretchedly.

“But I suppose you panicked and he was hurt. There’s nothing we can do to change that, and you’ll be charged. What I’m really interested in knowing is why. Why did you suddenly need a million krónur? In fact, I don’t believe you needed a million krónur. I think somebody else wanted the money and made you do it. And I think that somebody is the same somebody who gave you a black eye. Am I right?” Gunna asked gently, her voice soft as Diddi looked up at her, his face a picture of misery.

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Long Ommi?”

Diddi twisted his fingers and nodded again.

“Yes,” he said finally. “Ommi told me to do it. He said I owed him money and he wanted it.”

“Did you owe him money?”

“I don’t know!” Diddi wailed.

“And he drove you away?”

“His friend. In a red car.”

“Do you know Ommi’s friend’s name?”

“No. He’s ugly.”

“Now, I want you to take your time and tell me just what happened after Ommi’s friend drove you away from the bank. Can you do that?”

“What did you get out of Daft Diddi?” Helgi asked, turning on to Kringlumýrarbraut and pulling down the sunshade in the front of the hired car to shield him from the full glare of the low springtime sun, shining directly into his eyes from beneath a cover of thick white cloud in the west.

“Hell,” he swore, as the sunshade dropped down in front of his eyes and Gunna leaned over to lift it back. “The bloody thing’s broken again,” he apologized.

“What a surprise. What were you saying?”

“Diddi. Any progress?”

“Yeah, he came clean eventually. Long Ommi gave him a light smacking to start with and then demanded a million in cash. Diddi asked where from and Ommi or his mate told him how to go about it, gave him the knife and so forth.”

“Where are we going now?”

“Bjartmar Arnarson, one more time.”