at three killings.’
‘Bloody hell,’ Unnur whistled.
25-09-2008, 1044
Skandalblogger writes:
Oops! Rule one . . . even if you don’t tell the truth, do tell your wife . . .
Bjarni Jon, we’re feeling all warm and fuzzy today because we enjoyed your performance on Kastljos so much. However, we hear that your performance afterwards wasn’t so hot. Look, a word of advice here. We all know about ministers not bothering to brief their secretaries, aides, advisers, etc, but forgetting to let your good lady know that you were looking at chucking it in was, shall we say, a little lacking in foresight, especially as she trades so heavily on having a husband in government and the ear of the guy at the top.
We hear that the recording went pretty smoothly, a lot more smoothly than the blazing row you had with the lovely pouting Sigurjona in the ministerial jeep.
Clickhere*for the video clip, and if anyone who canlipread would like to send us their interpretation of what the delightful Sigurjona had to say, please email the Skandalblogger. We can have a pretty good guess at what was being said, considering that instead of being in hubby’s arms, the succulent Sigurjona scuttled off afterwards for a girls’ night out with little sister, celebrity strimmer Erna, but we’d like to be sure.
Anonymity guaranteed!
B?jo!
Gunna already knew that the third item on that evening’s TV news would be all about Matti. Laufey lay with her head on her mother’s shoulder and didn’t wake as Gunna lifted the remote control from her hand to increase the volume.
‘. . . Police are concerned about the whereabouts of Marteinn Georg Kristjansson and are appealing for information. Marteinn Georg was last seen on Sunday morning, wearing dark blue tracksuit trousers and a blue polo shirt under a dark brown leather jacket. He was last seen in the Smarar area driving a green Mercedes station wagon, number . . .’
Gunna muted the TV as the phone rang and at the same moment a picture appeared on the screen of a considerably younger Matti looking like a gangland hoodlum with his swept-down moustache.
‘Gunnhildur.’
‘Hi. It’s me.’
‘Skuli, how goes it?’
‘Still at work getting the morning edition together.’
‘Good. You’ve got enough to make a decent story about Matti? I’d appreciate it. It’s urgent that we find out what’s happened to him.’
‘That’s fixed. The story’s on an inside page, but there’s a box on the front with a ‘‘Have you seen this man?’’ caption. Er . . .’
‘Yes? What is it, Skuli?’
‘Well, actually it’s a bit embarrassing.’
‘Come on, lad, out with it.’
Gunna heard him breathe deeply as if summoning all the courage he had. ‘I wanted to ask you about Vilhjalmur Traustason.’
‘Fire away. We’ve known each other for a long time, although we’ve never got round to forming a mutual admiration society.’
‘All right. I could see there was a bit of tension between you two. But what I was wondering about was a story that the Skandalblogger came up with some time ago, about a police officer who had, quote, formed a happy working relationship with a Baltic beauty who dances nearby. End quote.’
‘And? Some sort of connection with Vilhjalmur? Anything that I need to know about?’
‘Well, yeah. This is the awkward bit. I was doing a story about prostitution that hasn’t been published yet, and I interviewed one of these girls in a room at Hotel Gullfoss. And as we were leaving the room, I saw your boss going down the corridor with another girl.’
‘Skuli, you’re sure?’
‘Absolutely, no doubt. Walked straight into them. When I saw the guy at the hotel I thought it was a bit creepy, but it wasn’t until I saw him at the press conference I realized it was the same person.’
Gunna held the receiver in the palm of her hand to muffle it. She didn’t know whether to laugh or shout with rage. She saw that the news item about Matti was over and the screen now showed an airliner on a runway somewhere warm.
‘Skuli,’ she said at last, ‘you’re still there?’
‘Yeah, of course.’
‘I’d ask you to be very careful with what you’ve just told me. As far as I’m aware, no crime has been committed and all you’ve seen is him accompanied by an unknown woman. Right?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘So if this were to get into other hands, you could destroy the man’s career, not to mention his marriage. You’re sure about this?’
‘I’m dead sure.’
Gunna cursed silently and wondered how, if ever, she would be able to broach the subject with Vilhjalmur Traustason. ‘Skuli, can you keep this under wraps?’
‘I can. But if I’ve noticed, then other people will as well.’
‘I’ll talk to him when I can. All right?’
‘OK,’ Skuli said dubiously.
‘Thanks, Skuli. I owe you a favour.’
Gunna put the phone down and Laufey stretched out on the sofa, eyes open.
‘Mum, who’s Skuli?’
‘Skuli’s a journalist on a newspaper who’s been writing a story about your old mum.’
‘So he’s not your boyfriend or anything, then?’
‘I hardly think so, young lady.’
Laufey yawned and kneaded her eyes with the backs of her fists. ‘That’s all right, then.’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘Nothing. Just some of the kids at school said that my mum’s got a boyfriend at last and I said no she hasn’t.’
Gunna sighed. Dinner with Steini had been a pleasure. They had both enjoyed themselves and Gunna had forgotten for a few hours much of the weight she felt she had been carrying since Raggi’s death. Steini had called again but she hadn’t had time to do more than promise vaguely to meet.
‘Laufey, my darling. One day you’ll understand that a young man like Skuli is hardly likely to be interested in an old lady like me.’
‘You’re not old,’ Laufey said, swinging her legs down to the floor. ‘And Finnur says his dad said he’d give you a portion. What does that mean, Mum?’
Gunna spluttered as she choked back laughter. ‘And who is Finnur?’
‘A really stupid boy in my class.’
‘All right. Who’s Finnur’s dad?’
‘I’m not sure. I think he works for the council.’
‘Thank you. I’ll look out for him and see if I can give him a parking ticket.’
‘All right. I’m going to bed now.’
‘But don’t you tell Finnur that tomorrow, will you?’
Laufey yawned again, pulled off her socks and dropped them on the floor.
‘In the basket, please,’ Gunna pointed out as Laufey scowled in perfect facsimile of her father’s face, giving Gunna a sudden pang. ‘I have to go early tomorrow, so you’ll be all right to get yourself up for school, won’t you?’
‘Sure, Mum. I’m not a kid, you know.’
