‘So, what’s your take on all this?’ Skúli asked.
‘A victory for us.’
‘In what way?’
‘In that InterAlu have pulled out and the Hvalvík smelter has been put on hold.’
‘Surely this was all due to the banking crisis and ESC being insolvent?’
Kolbeinn shrugged. ‘So? It’s had the right result.’
A knock at the front door echoed inside the kitchen and Kolbeinn looked up, waiting for someone from the living room to answer it. When nobody made a move, he slid down from the worktop.
‘Just a moment. I’ll be right back.’
‘Hi, great you could come,’ Skúli heard Kolbeinn greeting the person at the door, followed by footsteps in the hall as they made their way to the living room. He caught a glimpse of a sober business suit and sensible shoes as the woman passed the kitchen door with Kolbeinn behind her.
‘Here she is!’ Kolbeinn announced, and a cheer erupted from the group. Skúli wondered who it was and returned to his notebook.
‘Sorry about that. They’re making so much noise in there that they can’t hear when someone knocks on the door,’ Kolbeinn apologized, hauling himself back to his seat on the worktop. ‘Where were we?’
‘InterAlu, Spearpoint, ESC.’
‘Yeah. Well, the smelter was never really our main target. We’ve focused on the whole issue of these foreign aluminium plants that do nothing for the environment and precious little for the economy, except to keep it at boiling point. In real terms they offer less employment than, say, a shoe factory or something like that.’
‘All right, you’ve made the case against aluminium. What was it about this particular site?’
‘You know as well as I do.’
‘But I need to hear it from you.’
‘Man, where do I begin? There’s just so much to be up in arms against. There’s the crooked Minister channelling lucrative contracts to his friends and his wife’s company, setting up ESC and then making sure it gets a whole heap of public subsidy before being floated on the stock market. That was a great story, actually, and it was your colleague who broke that one.’
‘But what about the Hvalvík Lagoon power plant?’
‘That was the big one. Setting up a privately run power generation plant and taking protected status away from part of a national park to do it was just too much to be ignored. You know, Skúli? There is something you could delve into.’
‘Which is?’
The smile fell from Kolbeinn’s face. ‘Two of our closest collaborators were murdered in the last year and the perpetrator has never been caught.’
‘The Norwegian guy?’
‘That’s him. The policewoman from Hvalvík was right behind him but she was prevented from making an arrest. We have it on very good authority that a unit was deployed on orders direct from the Ministry, and actively prevented the police from arresting this man.’
‘You’re sure?
Kolbeinn nodded again.
‘Bjarni Jón? Higher up?’
‘Lárus Jóhann.’
‘But why?’
‘God. Can you imagine the uproar if it came to court? There’s so much shit that would have come out that it couldn’t happen. So he was quietly deported,’ Kolbeinn said.
‘I see,’ Skúli replied dubiously, wondering if this might be close to the truth or a wild conspiracy story.
‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ Kolbeinn asked, his eyes gleaming maliciously.
‘Well . . .’
‘I can tell you right now that a slimmed-down Spearpoint will be up and running again tomorrow as if nothing had ever happened.’
‘You’re sure? How can you know?’
Kolbeinn tapped the side of his nose in a theatrical gesture. ‘Find out what your boss is doing today.’
‘You mean Rich Golli?’ Skúli asked.
‘Both of them.’
‘You reckon Golli’s going to be bailing Sigurjóna out?’
‘It’s a done deal. Sigurjóna didn’t have much room to manoeuvre. So she’s not a happy lady right now, especially as her husband’s also moved out.’
‘Really? Where to?’
‘You need to keep up with the gossip, Skúli,’ Kolbeinn admonished. ‘Officially, they’re living together, but separated. Unofficially, he’s shacked up with a political science doctoral student who probably sees him as a fast-track ticket to somewhere or other.’
Suddenly, Skúli felt that he ought to be on his way back to Dagurinn’s office, and he stood up, shutting his notebook.
‘Check in with me tomorrow,’ Kolbeinn told him as he showed him to the door. ‘You’ll see.’
Walking away from Kolbeinn’s flat, he stopped dead in his tracks and almost turned on his heel to go back, remembering that the last time he had seen the woman in the sober suit and sensible shoes she had been sitting at the Minister’s side.
38
Tuesday, 7 October
Steam leaked from the kitchen at the back and hung in a cloud over the serving counter. The atmosphere in Hafnarkaffi was unusually lively and there was only one topic of conversation.
‘Good Lord, you’d think these people would have the decency to resign,’ Stefán Jónsson held forth.
‘No shame and no morals,’ someone else at the same table said.
‘Same all over. Same as the bloody government,’ Stefán added.
‘Morning, boys,’ Gunna offered, joining them at the table with a mug and a sandwich.
‘Ah, Gunnhildur. What does the law make of all this?’
‘What? The haddock quota? A disgrace, I reckon.’
‘No. Bloody Glitnir and the government bailing those bastards out with I don’t know how many billions of our cash.’
Gunna took a long pull at her coffee to wash down the first mouthful of prawn sandwich.
‘Well, Stefán. Considering it’s your money and mine, I’d be inclined to offer you my congratulations on the bank that you’ve just become part owner of.’
‘Well, there is that,’ Albert Jónasson at the next table turned round to add. ‘But which one’s next? That’s what I’d like to know. Landsbanki or Kaupthing?’
‘Hi! Stína!’ Stefán called out. ‘Put the wireless on for the news, would you?’
The newsreader’s grave voice boomed out and as the first item began Gunna’s phone buzzed.
‘Haddi. This better be important, disturbing a girl over lunch.’
She heard Haddi wheeze before he replied. ‘Going to be long? There’s someone here to see you.’
‘Who is it?’
‘Dunno. Some big shot. He’s come from Reykjavík to see you. Though I can’t understand why anyone’d come all that way just to see you.’
‘All right.’ Gunna sighed. In only a few days since the investigating team had rapidly been disbanded, life had seemed a little empty. ‘Tell him to come down to Hafnarkaffi if he’s hungry, otherwise I’ll be back in ten minutes,’ she decided.
‘I’ll tell him you’ll be back in a minute. I don’t reckon people like this go to places like Hafnarkaffi.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Gunna replied, reaching for her soup.
‘If Haddi had said, I’d have been quicker,’ Gunna said when she found Ívar Laxdal sitting in the better chair in her office.
‘Not a problem, Gunnhildur.’
‘What about Hårde? I’d love to know what went wrong.’
The National Commissioner’s deputy looked as awkward as Gunna could expect a man in such an exalted position to look.
‘I can’t comment. To be completely open with you, I don’t know the full story myself, but,’ he said quickly, indicating that he had no intention of discussing the matter further, ‘I do need to know whether or not you want to apply for this post in the east. Let me know, will you?’