‘I never understood, to be honest,’ said Ragnar. ‘I knew Thorfinnur had something to do with foreign currency accounts and pensions, but we never discussed it in any detail. Financial stuff bores me.’
‘Would you say he was honest?’
‘He was the soul of integrity, in everything he did.’
‘Did he ever mention any problems at work?’
‘No.’
‘Or his friends or colleagues at the bank, the ones who were on the trip with him?’
‘No. Anyway, I don’t think they were friends. Thorfinnur got to know them when he started working there, four or five years ago.’
‘So they weren’t close mates?’
‘He certainly never described them like that and I don’t think he particularly wanted to go on that trip to Snaefellsnes. He wasn’t looking forward to it and would have preferred to get out of it.’
‘But he went anyway.’
‘Yes, and didn’t come back.’
Sverrir kept him waiting outside his office for forty-five minutes, during which time bank employees came and went along the corridor without giving him so much as a glance.
Finally the door opened and Sverrir stuck his head out.
‘Are you Sigurdur?’ he asked.
‘Sigurdur Óli, yes.’
‘What do you want?’
‘To talk to you about Thorfinnur.’
‘Are you from the police?’
‘Yes.’
‘What do the police want with the case?’
Sverrir had pointedly not invited him in, so Sigurdur Óli remained seated on the chair in the corridor, which was fixed to another chair and a table with a pile of old magazines from which he had carefully averted his eyes.
‘Are you happy to discuss this in the corridor?’ asked Sigurdur Óli.
‘No, of course not, sorry, come in.’
Sverrir’s office was bright and airy, furnished with a new leather suite and two wall-mounted flat screens displaying exchange rates and graphs.
‘Did you and Thorfinnur fall out? Is that why you parted ways?’ Sigurdur Óli asked, sitting down to face Sverrir across his desk.
‘Fall out? Why are you looking into this now? Has there been a new development? Where did you get the idea that we fell out? Was it you who talked to Knútur downstairs?’
Sverrir’s questions came so thick and fast that Sigurdur Óli wondered whether to bother answering all of them.
‘So he must — Knútur, I mean — must have told you that I was asking questions about Lína. She said you boys had an incredible nerve and were running some kind of scheme. That’s why I’m looking into this now, since you ask; that’s the new development. What scheme was she talking about and why would she say you had an incredible nerve?’
Sverrir studied Sigurdur Óli impassively.
‘I don’t know what you’re implying,’ he said finally. ‘Knútur came in here telling me that you’d been talking to him about Thorfinnur and making all kinds of insinuations that sounded pretty tasteless to me.’
‘Did you know Lína?’
‘I only remembered her when Knútur started talking about the tour we went on. I had no idea she was the same woman who was attacked the other day.’
‘What about you and Thorfinnur? Why did you go back to fetch the car alone? Did you quarrel? What happened?’
‘I presume you’ve read the files. I have nothing to add. I was going to pick him up at Beruvík but he never turned up.’
‘I gather he could be really stubborn. That’s how one witness put it.’
‘He could be, yes. He wanted to go on further than I thought advisable, given how late it was. I wanted to go back but he didn’t, so eventually we agreed that I would fetch the car, then come and pick him up. There are tracks where you can drive through the lava field.’
‘So he just charged on regardless and you couldn’t stop him, and then he went missing?’
‘It’s all in the files. And he didn’t charge on. He’d never been there before and was very taken with the scenery.’
‘But you’ve been there often?
‘Naturally. My family comes from Snaefellsnes.’
‘And you know this particular area well?’
‘Yes.’
‘Was it your idea to go there in the first place?’
Sverrir cast his mind back. ‘Yes, you can probably blame me.’
‘And you’ve often walked through the lava field?’
‘Not often, no.’
‘But you know how dangerous it is. Yet you left him behind on his own.’
‘It’s no more dangerous than a hundred other places in Iceland. You just have to be sensible.’
‘What was this scheme that Lína overheard you plotting?’ asked Sigurdur Óli.
‘There was no scheme, no plot,’ Sverrir replied. ‘I don’t know what she was on about, what the context was. Could it have been some sort of joke?’
‘Not according to her husband.’
‘Well, I don’t know him. And I didn’t know her either, and I can’t imagine what kind of rubbish she could have been saying about us.’
‘Yet not long afterwards, one of your group was killed. That very same autumn.’
‘Look, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can help you any further,’ said Sverrir. ‘I’m extremely busy, so we’d better call it a day.’
He stood up.
‘His body was found washed up in Skardsvík cove,’ persevered Sigurdur Óli. ‘Have you been there?’
‘Yes. He had an accident. The case was closed. I don’t need to tell you that.’
‘His body was so badly decomposed after so long in the sea that even if there had been injuries, they wouldn’t have been visible,’ observed Sigurdur Óli, standing up as well. ‘So you didn’t get better acquainted with Lína?’
‘No!’
‘She was promiscuous. Maybe she just liked men; got a kick out of wrapping them round her little finger. Even the most careful of men.’
‘Yes, well, I didn’t know her at all,’ Sverrir repeated, opening the door.
‘Then how about a couple of individuals called Thórarinn and Hördur, alias Toggi and Höddi? One’s a van driver, the other owns a garage. Animals, the pair of them.’
‘No, I don’t know them. Is there any reason I should?’
‘They’re debt collectors. One of them killed Lína — Toggi, that is, or Toggi “Sprint” as he’s known. He certainly runs like a mother-fucker. I believe he’s about to start talking. Maybe we’ll have another little chat after that.’
‘Are you threatening me?’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ said Sigurdur Óli. ‘Did any of you sleep with her? Lína, I mean.’
‘Not me,’ answered Sverrir. ‘And let me repeat that I find these questions deeply offensive. I don’t know what you’re trying to achieve but I’m sure there must be other ways of going about it.’
43
Arnar, the fourth member of that fateful trip, worked on the floor above Sverrir. Sigurdur Óli went straight upstairs, asked where he could find him and located a door marked ‘Arnar Jósefsson’. After tapping several times, he pushed it open. Arnar, who was on his feet, phone pressed to his ear, gave Sigurdur Óli a look of puzzled enquiry.
‘I’d like to talk to you about your late colleague Thorfinnur,’ announced Sigurdur Óli.
Arnar apologised to the person on the phone, saying he would call back later, and hung up.
‘I don’t believe you have an appointment,’ he said, turning the pages of his desk diary.
‘No, I don’t believe I do,’ said Sigurdur Óli and explained briefly who he was and why he was there. ‘Am I right that you were with your colleagues when Thorfinnur was killed?’
Arnar stopped flicking through his diary, gestured to Sigurdur Óli to sit down and took a seat himself.
‘Yes. Have the police reopened the investigation?’
‘Could you tell me roughly what happened?’ asked Sigurdur Óli, ignoring his question.