Read Online Chilled to the Bone by Quentin Bates - Free Book Online

morning. What can I get you?”
    “You can answer some questions,” Gunna told him in a harsher voice than she had intended, and immediately reminded herself that while yesterday’s news had kept her awake half the night and put her in a foul temper, work and personal life needed to be kept strictly separate. “I’d like a quietchat, if you’re not busy,” she said, in a more gentle tone this time.
    Kolbeinn shrugged and his smile remained unchanged. Gunna guessed that it was a requirement of the job. “It’s quiet at the moment,” he said, gesturing at the empty room. “Can I get you anything?”
    “A coffee would do nicely. How long have you worked here?”
    “A couple of years.”
    “And you were here yesterday?”
    Kolbeinn nodded, concentrating on the coffee machine that steamed and spluttered. “I’m here most days.”
    “You work day shifts, do you? Or what’s the arrangement?”
    “Eight to four some days. Four to whenever the bar closes other days.”
    “Midnight?” Gunna asked, sipping the rather insipid coffee he had placed soundlessly in front of her.
    “Midnight, two, four. Longer sometimes. It’s all overtime so I don’t mind.”
    Gunna tapped the bar with her finger, willing herself to be patient. She placed a series of grainy printouts from the hotel’s CCTV on the bar in front of him. “You were here yesterday, so you served these two people, didn’t you?” She asked, pointing at the woman sitting with Jóhannes Karlsson.
    Kolbeinn’s face was a bland mask. “That’s right,” he agreed. “Yesterday morning. It was around ten, eleven, I think.”
    Gunna rearranged the pictures. “I want you to look at the picture of this person. Any ideas?”
    Kolbeinn shook his head, glancing from the statuesque blonde to the brunette with the curls and the tracksuit.
    “No. I hardly spoke to her,” he said, pointing at the blonde.
    “But you spoke to the gentleman who was with her, didn’t you?”
    “Of course, He’s a regular guest here,” he said, clearly confused.
    “You tell me. Have you seen either of these women before?”
    Kolbeinn’s voice was slow and unconvincing. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen this one,” he added, looking carefully at the picture of the woman with the curls.
    “Who was here first yesterday?” Gunna asked, although she already knew the answer from the CCTV footage. “Him or her?”
    “Like I told your colleague yesterday, the gentleman was here yesterday morning, reading the paper. Then the lady arrived and went over and sat next to him. I brought him a coffee and she asked for chamomile tea.”
    “Hold on a second, which of my colleagues did you speak to yesterday?” Gunna asked in irritation, looking through her notes and wondering why Eiríkur and Helgi hadn’t mentioned speaking to the barman.
    “The one with the beard,” Kolbeinn said, as if he felt sorry for the confused police officer speaking to him. “Nice guy,” he added. “We went over to Café Twenty-two over the road and had a beer. He asked for my friend Magnús, but he’s working over at the Harbourside Hotel these days.”
    “Really?” Gunna asked. “What did he ask you about? I’m sorry, but there seem to be a few crossed wires here.”
    “Everything you’ve been asking. Do I know this woman and all that.” Kolbeinn was gabbling as Gunna glared. “He had a badge and everything.”
    Gunna took a deep breath. “All right. Now, tell me where you spoke to this man, will you?”
    Kolbeinn looked frightened. “Here. He came in and had a coffee. There wasn’t anyone about, so we got chatting and he told me he was a policeman who was looking for someone who had been reported missing and had I seen her? Then he showed me his badge and some pictures.”
    “These pictures?”
    “I’m not sure if it was these,” Kolbeinn floundered, “but it was definitely her. My shift was over and Gussi was supposedto take over, so we went for a beer and he