EBOOK
About
Officer Gunnhildur, recently promoted from her post in rural Iceland to Reykjavík's Serious Crime Unit, is tasked with hunting down escaped convict Long Ommi, who has embarked on a spree of violent score-settling in and around the city. Meanwhile, she's also investigating the murder of a fitness guru in her own city-center apartment. As Gunna delves into the cases, she unearths some unwelcome secrets and influential friends shared by both guru and convict. Set in an Iceland plagued by an ongoing financial crisis, Gunna has to take stock of the whirlwind changes that have swept through the country-and the fact that at the highest levels of power, the system's endemic corruption still leads, inevitably, to murder. "Required reading for anyone who wants a sense of how calamitious Iceland's meltdown was-and what just might be in store for American police procedurals next."-Kirkus Reviews
"Cold Comfort introduces some very interesting characters and develops the setting and stories of Gunna's environment in positive ways, leading me to look forward to the next Gunnhildur book with anticipation." -International Noir Fiction
Praise for Frozen Assets:
"Excellent debut.... Bates does a fine job with both Gunna and her town, her acerbic boss and an online blogger who keeps us abreast of events in Icelandic media and politics."-Toronto Globe and Mail
"[A] crackling fiction debut ... palpable authenticity."-Publishers Weekly
"In Gunna Gísladóttir, Quentin Bates has created a character who appeals both on professional and personal levels."-Examiner.com
"The author has used the financial disarray of Iceland quite successfully in the plotting of this book. Money is power and power is so often the root of crime, and so it is in Cold Comfort…. Gunna is a tough as nails, take no hostages type cop. She throws herself into each investigation pushing the subject in the interview room until she gets what she wants." -Bestsellersworld.com, Mysteries Galore Quentin Bates lived in Iceland for ten years before moving back to the UK in 1990, where he became a full-time journalist at a commercial fishing magazine. He and his wife frequently return to Iceland, where they have many friends, including several in the Reykjavík police. Prologue
Freedom tasted good. To Long Ómar Magnússon freedom
tasted of hot dogs with ketchup and onions and washed down
with a cold can of malt. He thrust out long legs beneath the
café's plastic table and belched luxuriously. A woman with a
brood of children at the next table turned her head and
frowned, but he met her stare and she thought better of saying
anything.
"Where are we going now, Ommi?" asked the tubby girl at
his side.
"Town. Your place."
"We can't go there," she wailed. "Mum'll go mad if she sees
you. She knows you're not out for another year."
"Good behaviour, Selma. Tell her I've been a good boy and
now I need some fun."
He drained the can of malt and stood up, shaking his legs.
"Come on. There's stuff to do."
Selma hauled herself to her feet and trotted towards the
door with Ommi towering beside her. As she squealed in surprise,
the woman with the brood of children again turned her
head in irritation, in time to see a broad hand stretched down
to cup a buttock, half under Selma's short skirt. The woman
opened her mouth to speak, but before she had decided what
to say, the pair had gone, with Selma's squeaks receding into
the distance.
Thursday 11th
"Laufey!"Gunna called for the second time.
"Laufey Oddbjörg Ragnarsdóttir! School!"
She brushed her teeth hurriedly and examined herself critically
in the mirror. Time for a haircut, she thought. Good
teeth, strong nose, thick eyebrows . . . Cupping a hand to lift a
mouthful of water, she swirled and spat as Laufey appeared in
the mirror behind her.
"Finished, sweetheart. All yours."
"Cold Comfort introduces some very interesting characters and develops the setting and stories of Gunna's environment in positive ways, leading me to look forward to the next Gunnhildur book with anticipation." -International Noir Fiction
Praise for Frozen Assets:
"Excellent debut.... Bates does a fine job with both Gunna and her town, her acerbic boss and an online blogger who keeps us abreast of events in Icelandic media and politics."-Toronto Globe and Mail
"[A] crackling fiction debut ... palpable authenticity."-Publishers Weekly
"In Gunna Gísladóttir, Quentin Bates has created a character who appeals both on professional and personal levels."-Examiner.com
"The author has used the financial disarray of Iceland quite successfully in the plotting of this book. Money is power and power is so often the root of crime, and so it is in Cold Comfort…. Gunna is a tough as nails, take no hostages type cop. She throws herself into each investigation pushing the subject in the interview room until she gets what she wants." -Bestsellersworld.com, Mysteries Galore Quentin Bates lived in Iceland for ten years before moving back to the UK in 1990, where he became a full-time journalist at a commercial fishing magazine. He and his wife frequently return to Iceland, where they have many friends, including several in the Reykjavík police. Prologue
Freedom tasted good. To Long Ómar Magnússon freedom
tasted of hot dogs with ketchup and onions and washed down
with a cold can of malt. He thrust out long legs beneath the
café's plastic table and belched luxuriously. A woman with a
brood of children at the next table turned her head and
frowned, but he met her stare and she thought better of saying
anything.
"Where are we going now, Ommi?" asked the tubby girl at
his side.
"Town. Your place."
"We can't go there," she wailed. "Mum'll go mad if she sees
you. She knows you're not out for another year."
"Good behaviour, Selma. Tell her I've been a good boy and
now I need some fun."
He drained the can of malt and stood up, shaking his legs.
"Come on. There's stuff to do."
Selma hauled herself to her feet and trotted towards the
door with Ommi towering beside her. As she squealed in surprise,
the woman with the brood of children again turned her
head in irritation, in time to see a broad hand stretched down
to cup a buttock, half under Selma's short skirt. The woman
opened her mouth to speak, but before she had decided what
to say, the pair had gone, with Selma's squeaks receding into
the distance.
Thursday 11th
"Laufey!"Gunna called for the second time.
"Laufey Oddbjörg Ragnarsdóttir! School!"
She brushed her teeth hurriedly and examined herself critically
in the mirror. Time for a haircut, she thought. Good
teeth, strong nose, thick eyebrows . . . Cupping a hand to lift a
mouthful of water, she swirled and spat as Laufey appeared in
the mirror behind her.
"Finished, sweetheart. All yours."