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I don't set up the girls. You have to go upstairs and get one and then bring her down here."
"Oh, I see," Erlendur said, realising the misunderstanding. "I'm looking for Eva Lind."
"Eva? She quit ages ago. Were you with her?"
Erlendur stared at him.
"Quit ages ago? What do you mean?"
"She was here sometimes. How do you know her?"
A door opened along the corridor and a young man walked out, zipping up his flies. Erlendur could see a naked girl bending down to pick up some clothes from the floor in the room. The young man squeezed past them, patted Baddi on the shoulder and disappeared up the stairs. The girl in the room looked Erlendur in the face, then slammed the door.
"Do you mean down here?" Erlendur said in astonishment. "Eva Lind was down here?"
"Long time ago. There's one who looks just like her in this room," Baddi said with all the enthusiasm of a used-car salesman, and pointed to a door. "She's a medical student from Lithuania. And that girl playing the violin. Did you hear her? She's in some famous school in Poland. They come over here. Make some money. Then go on studying."
"Do you know where I can find Eva Lind?"
"We never say where the girls live," Baddi said with a peculiarly beatific expression.
"I don't want to know where the girls live," Erlendur said wearily. He took care not to lose his temper, knew he had to be cautious, had to obtain the information diplomatically, even though he felt most of all like wringing the man's neck. "I think Eva Lind's in trouble and she asked me to help her," he said as calmly as he could possibly manage.
"And who are you, her dad?" Baddi said sarcastically, with a giggle.
Erlendur looked at him, wondering how he could get a hold on that little bald head. The grin froze on Baddi's face when he realised that he had scored a bull's-eye. By accident as usual. He slowly took one step backwards.
"Are you the cop?" he asked.
Erlendur nodded.
"This is a completely legitimate establishment."
"That's none of my business. Do you know about Eva Lind?"
"Is she lost?"
"I don't know," Erlendur said. "She's lost to me. She spoke to me earlier and asked me to help her, but I don't know where she is. I was told you knew her."
"I was with her for a while, did she tell you that?"
Erlendur shook his head.
"She's hopeless to be with. A real nutter."
"Can you tell me where she is?"
"It's a long time since I've seen her. She hates you. Did you know that?"
"When you were going out with her, who got her stuff for her?"
"You mean her dealer?"
"Her dealer, yes."
"Are you going to lock him up?"
"I'm not going to lock anyone up. I've got to find Eva Lind. Can you help me or not?"
Baddi weighed up his options. He didn't need to help this man at all, or Eva Lind. She could go to hell for all he cared. But there was an expression on the detective's face that told him it would be better to have him on his side rather than against him.
"I don't know anything about Eva," he said. "Talk to Alli."
"Alli?"
"And don't tell him I sent you."

5
Erlendur drove into the oldest part of town, down by the harbour, thinking about Eva Lind and thinking about Reykjavik. He had been born elsewhere and considered himself an outsider even though he had lived in the city for most of his life and had seen it spread across the bays and hills as the rural communities depopulated. A modern city swollen with people who did not want to live in the countryside or fishing villages any more, or could not live there, and came to the city to build new lives for themselves, but lost their roots and were left with no past and an uncertain future. He had never felt comfortable in the city.
Felt like a stranger.
Alli was about 20, scrawny, gingery and freckled; his front teeth were missing, his face was drawn and wan and he had a nasty cough. He was where Baddi had said he would be, sitting inside Kaffi Austurstraeti, alone at a table with an empty beer glass in front of him. He looked asleep, his head drooping and his arms folded over his