voice spoke again, with a soft menace this time. ‘Your mother’s name?’
‘Her name was Ingibjörg Theódórsdóttir. She’s dead,’ he added without knowing why.
‘And you have a sister, Margrét Hildur Björnsdóttir, right? Does the name Elísabet Sólborg Höskuldsdóttir mean anything to you?’ the voice asked softly as Orri felt his mouth go dry and both the need to pee and the chill of the water soaking into his clothes were forgotten.
‘Yes,’ he croaked.
‘Good,’ the voice said with evident satisfaction. ‘As you can guess, Orri, while you have been sitting here in the dark, I’ve done a little research and know quite a bit about you, and by the time you get out of this place I’ll know a lot more. It never ceases to surprise me how much you can learn from a person’s phone. You’re a rather foolish young man, but it seems there are a few skills there that we might be able to use.’
‘We?’ Orri asked. ‘Who’s “we”?’
‘That’s something you don’t need to know, Orri. Just be happy that we haven’t decided to deal with you in a way that we normally would with someone who interferes. You understand? Normally you would have disappeared,’ the voice said smoothly. There was silence while the disembodied voice allowed its words to sink in. Orri gasped for breath inside the bag. ‘Tell me, Orri. Do you know who this house belongs to?’
‘Yes,’ he gulped. ‘Do you?’
‘I want to know how good your information is.’
‘It’s owned by Sólfell Property.’
He wondered if the voice was even listening.
‘Normally someone like you would have vanished. Maybe lost in the hills somewhere, but it would be many years before you might be found. Understand?’
‘I understand,’ Orri replied, his mouth dry, but his heart hammering with relief at the thought that whoever had put a bag over his head and tied him to a chair was going to let him live after all.
The voice spoke softly and Orri strained to listen through the bag that was gradually suffocating him.
‘In a few minutes I will be gone. This place will be empty, so there’s no need for you to search around for anything worth stealing because there’s nothing here. In a few days you might receive some instructions. You would be well advised to do what you are told.’
‘And if I don’t?’ Orri asked. The words were out of his mouth without thinking. There was silence for what felt a long time.
‘I thought I had made it plain that I know where you live. I know who your girlfriend is, where she works and where she lives. I know where your sister and her children live. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes,’ Orri whispered.
‘I don’t care about your other business, but it would be as well for you to not get caught,’ the voice said in a silky tone.
‘But . . . that was nothing to do with me,’ Orri said desperately and heard the voice’s chair pushed back as its legs rattled on the concrete.
‘Goodbye, Orri Björnsson. Watch out for instructions.’
‘Hey, how do I get out of here?’
‘You’ll find a way, if you’re smart enough.’
‘But . . . what if I can’t get out?’
‘If you’re not that smart, then you’re no loss. Consider it a test, Orri Björnsson.’
‘Take the bag off, at least, will you?’ Orri pleaded as he heard the soft footfalls recede and the door at the top of the stairs shut.
‘Go home, Gunnhildur.’
She looked up from the papers she had been engrossed in to see Ívar Laxdal at the end of her desk.
‘I can’t make head nor tail of this stuff,’ she said. ‘I just see company names and who owns which percentage of some company that also owns bits and pieces of something else. It’s an absolute minefield.’
‘Go home, like I told you.’
Gunna squared the sheets of paper she had been poring over and tucked them into her folder.
Ívar Laxdal’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not taking that lot home with you, are you?’
‘I am. I’ll have another read
‘Her name was Ingibjörg Theódórsdóttir. She’s dead,’ he added without knowing why.
‘And you have a sister, Margrét Hildur Björnsdóttir, right? Does the name Elísabet Sólborg Höskuldsdóttir mean anything to you?’ the voice asked softly as Orri felt his mouth go dry and both the need to pee and the chill of the water soaking into his clothes were forgotten.
‘Yes,’ he croaked.
‘Good,’ the voice said with evident satisfaction. ‘As you can guess, Orri, while you have been sitting here in the dark, I’ve done a little research and know quite a bit about you, and by the time you get out of this place I’ll know a lot more. It never ceases to surprise me how much you can learn from a person’s phone. You’re a rather foolish young man, but it seems there are a few skills there that we might be able to use.’
‘We?’ Orri asked. ‘Who’s “we”?’
‘That’s something you don’t need to know, Orri. Just be happy that we haven’t decided to deal with you in a way that we normally would with someone who interferes. You understand? Normally you would have disappeared,’ the voice said smoothly. There was silence while the disembodied voice allowed its words to sink in. Orri gasped for breath inside the bag. ‘Tell me, Orri. Do you know who this house belongs to?’
‘Yes,’ he gulped. ‘Do you?’
‘I want to know how good your information is.’
‘It’s owned by Sólfell Property.’
He wondered if the voice was even listening.
‘Normally someone like you would have vanished. Maybe lost in the hills somewhere, but it would be many years before you might be found. Understand?’
‘I understand,’ Orri replied, his mouth dry, but his heart hammering with relief at the thought that whoever had put a bag over his head and tied him to a chair was going to let him live after all.
The voice spoke softly and Orri strained to listen through the bag that was gradually suffocating him.
‘In a few minutes I will be gone. This place will be empty, so there’s no need for you to search around for anything worth stealing because there’s nothing here. In a few days you might receive some instructions. You would be well advised to do what you are told.’
‘And if I don’t?’ Orri asked. The words were out of his mouth without thinking. There was silence for what felt a long time.
‘I thought I had made it plain that I know where you live. I know who your girlfriend is, where she works and where she lives. I know where your sister and her children live. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes,’ Orri whispered.
‘I don’t care about your other business, but it would be as well for you to not get caught,’ the voice said in a silky tone.
‘But . . . that was nothing to do with me,’ Orri said desperately and heard the voice’s chair pushed back as its legs rattled on the concrete.
‘Goodbye, Orri Björnsson. Watch out for instructions.’
‘Hey, how do I get out of here?’
‘You’ll find a way, if you’re smart enough.’
‘But . . . what if I can’t get out?’
‘If you’re not that smart, then you’re no loss. Consider it a test, Orri Björnsson.’
‘Take the bag off, at least, will you?’ Orri pleaded as he heard the soft footfalls recede and the door at the top of the stairs shut.
‘Go home, Gunnhildur.’
She looked up from the papers she had been engrossed in to see Ívar Laxdal at the end of her desk.
‘I can’t make head nor tail of this stuff,’ she said. ‘I just see company names and who owns which percentage of some company that also owns bits and pieces of something else. It’s an absolute minefield.’
‘Go home, like I told you.’
Gunna squared the sheets of paper she had been poring over and tucked them into her folder.
Ívar Laxdal’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not taking that lot home with you, are you?’
‘I am. I’ll have another read
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