Read Online Sun on Fire by Viktor Arnar Ingólfsson - Free Book Online Page B

number.”
    “Thanks very much for all your help,” Gunnar said.
    Fischer smiled. “Will you be doing anything here in Berlin other than working on this investigation?”
    “Um, I’m going to go to the zoo.”
    “The zoo? Any particular reason?”
    “I’ve never seen an elephant.”
    Fischer laughed. “I see. My daughter works at the aquarium there. I sometimes pick her up after work, so I happen to know that today is the last day of summer hours. It’s open till six thirty, so you may get there this evening, but you would only have time to see the elephant. Tomorrow, the zoo is open from nine to five thirty.”
    Gunnar looked at his watch and said, “Then I’ll wait until tomorrow. But tonight I’m going to treat myself to a good Wiener schnitzel. Is there anyplace you recommend?”
    “Good idea,” Fischer said. “The Mövenpick restaurant in the Europa Center does an excellent schnitzel. The place is very easy to find. There’s a great view from the window tables over the square and the Kurfürstendamm.”
    Gunnar escorted Fischer down to the embassy’s entrance lobby, where they parted.
    “Let me know when you’ve found the killer,” Fischer said as they shook hands.
    “Sure thing,” said Gunnar. He closed the door after Fischer and turned to Birkir, who was just coming down the stairs. It was time to compare notes on what they’d learned so far.
    17:10
    From Arngrímur, Birkir had gotten Anton’s traveling companion’s name and cell phone number, and after the briefing with Gunnar he called the number. The man answered instantly, and they set up a meeting. Birkir got the embassy driver to take him to the hotel where the guy was staying. It wasn’t far from the embassy, but in the heavy afternoon traffic the trip took ten minutes, with most of that time spent waiting at stoplights.
    Entering the lobby, Birkir called the number again and said, “This is Birkir Li Hinriksson. I’m at the hotel.”
    “I see you,” came the reply.
    A stocky, muscular man in his thirties got up from a sofa in the hotel bar and walked over.
    “You’re from the Icelandic detective division?” he asked, his deep voice betraying slight surprise. His head was clean-shaven, his features stern.
    “Yes, I am,” Birkir replied and introduced himself again.
    “Hi, I’m Búi Rútsson,” the other said, and looked searchingly at Birkir. “China?” he asked.
    “Vietnam,” Birkir replied.
    “But of Chinese origin?”
    “Probably.”
    “Aha.”
    Birkir asked, “Do you have a key to Anton’s room?”
    “Yeah, we got adjoining rooms. I’ve a key to the connecting door.”
    “Let’s go up, then. When we’re done here, I’ll take Anton’s luggage with me.”
    “OK.”
    Búi led the way to an elevator and pressed the button. On arrival at the fourth floor, they walked along a long corridor and stopped at one of the doors, which Búi opened with his key card. They entered a luxurious hotel room, where Búi opened the connecting door and led them through to another.
    “This is Anton’s room,” Búi said.
    An open suitcase containing clothing lay on the made-up bed. Next to it was a briefcase, also open, full of papers.
    Búi said, “I’ve already packed. I’m just about to leave, so I’m glad you’re going to deal with Anton’s belongings. That means I don’t have to take them with me.”
    Birkir gestured toward two armchairs next to a low table, and they sat down. Birkir fished his voice recorder out of a pocket and switched it on. “What was your connection to Anton Eiríksson?” he asked, after dictating the usual preliminaries into the machine.
    “I was an employee of his.”
    “What was your job?”
    “Bodyguard.”
    “Nothing else?”
    Búi hesitated before replying, “Taking responsibility for the security of a businessman who travels as widely as Anton is more than enough of a job for one person.”
    Birkir frowned. “No other tasks?”
    Búi shrugged. “Occasionally, if the hotel we