Every parking space was full, with faces behind the windscreen of every car. A camera crew was in the process of setting up its equipment on the forecourt outside the building, to the consternation of the huddles of people on their way home through the crush of the evening rush hour traffic.
Gunna double-parked across the row of spaces reserved for directors and they made their way slowly through the gathering crowd. Gunna scanned for a familiar face and eventually alighted on Jonni Kristinns, sitting in a tired grey Skoda parked in a disabled spot. She tapped on the window and Jonni looked around and grinned at her. The window hissed open.
‘Gunna, my dear. Good to see you.’
‘And you, Jonni. What the hell’s going on?’
Jonni tapped the side of his nose theatrically. ‘Ah. That’s what we’d all like to know.’
‘Come on. Spill the beans, old lad,’ Gunna instructed. ‘No bullshit, now.’
‘Rumour has it that InterAlu is pulling out of its deal with Spearpoint. Nothing’s been confirmed and nothing’s been denied. Not a word so far.’
‘Big news, then?’
‘Oh, yes,’ Jonni said, licking dry lips. ‘Top story. Timing’s just right as well. Too late for the TV news and not too late for our morning edition.’
‘Is Sigurjona in her office?’
Jonni shrugged. ‘No idea. We’re just waiting to see what happens. It’s a hell of a story if it’s true.’
‘Won’t this leave her in trouble?’
‘And how. They have some colossal financial commitments and if their partner has pulled out, it means that Sigurjona and her unpleasant husband have been royally shafted up their collective back passage. Of course, it could just as well be that the bank has run out of cash and is doing the same, without the benefit of lubrication, as one of my colleagues put it rather graphically this morning.’
‘Of course, now you’d never say anything as disgusting as that, would you, Jonni?’
‘Well, not in print, anyway. Hello,’ he said, looking up. ‘Got to run, Gunna, looks like something’s happening.’
With a speed that surprised Gunna, Jonni was out of the car and at the forefront of the scrum that formed around the door as Jon Oddur, red-faced and sweating, appeared to face a barrage of questions.
Gunna and Bara stood at the back of the group to listen as Jon Oddur floundered.
‘Quiet, please. Quiet,’ he pleaded with the crowd of microphones in his face and the staccato rattle of questions being fired at him. He pulled a sheet of paper from the inside pocket of his jacket and unfolded it, blinking as flashes went off in his face.
‘I have a prepared statement to read. I am not authorized to answer any questions afterwards. I will read this only once.’
He looked around him at the microphones, raised the sheet of paper and read in halting, careful English: ‘Spearpoint values its ongoing business relationship with InterAlu and is fully confident that this is set to continue to our mutual benefit. We are at present engaged in cooperative negotiations with InterAlu and its partners to extend and expand our current partnerships across the business environment.’
Jon Oddur paused and looked up at the expectant faces around him before taking a deep breath. ‘Spearpoint’s senior management has built up a positive working relationship with the heads of InterAlu’s European business development division and we fully expect this to continue. Speculation of a rift between Spearpoint subsidiaries ESC and Bay Metals, and InterAlu is completely unfounded and has no basis in actuality. As media professionals ourselves, we are fully aware of the need to respond to unfounded rumours and we would ask our colleagues at the front line of news reporting for a level of circumspection in reporting unverified and unverifiable hearsay. Message ends. Thank you.’
‘Jon Oddur, what’s InterAlu’s take on all this?’
‘Is Sigurjona going to make a statement herself?’
‘How many jobs are going to be lost when InterAlu pull out?’
‘How much money does Sigurjona personally stand to lose on this?’
The questions came thick and fast, while Jon Oddur slowly turned and began to make his way back to the door, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone in his way.
‘Jon Oddur, what are the implications for the Minister’s position? Will he have to resign?’
‘What about the allegations of intimidation and bribery? What’s Spearpoint’s response?’
The barrage fell silent as the glass door swung shut behind him, and Jon Oddur could feel rivulets of sweat running down his back as he made for the lift at the trot.
‘Bullshit,’ Jonni Kristinns announced with delight as he returned to his car. ‘Bullshit from start to finish.’
‘Why do you say that?’ Bara asked.
‘What else could they say? He didn’t say anything at all that says anything. No facts, no information, just business as usual. I reckon it’s a smokescreen to keep the lid on things while they salvage what they can from the wreck,’ he said with satisfaction.
Gunna nodded and looked up at Spearpoint’s windows high above. ‘It doesn’t sound right, does it? Is denying everything flatly like that normal practice, Jonni?’
‘Yeah. It’s the normal bullshit. This has to be a face-saving exercise while they try to keep the stock exchange happy. Spearpoint is privately owned, but I’ll bet you a shag to a bag of shit that ESC’s share value is going to plummet.’
‘Er. No thanks, Jonni. Maybe later, all right?’ she said as he launched himself into his car and beat the unwilling engine into life. ‘J?ja, Bara. Maybe we should have brought Snorri along as well. He would have enjoyed all that. Come on, let’s see if we can track down Sigurjona.’
Osk Lindal was more imposing than Snorri’s description of her had even hinted. She stood two metres tall in flat shoes, looking down at Gunna and Bara. Her arms were folded underneath a bosom that jutted alarmingly into free space. Robustly built herself, Gunna felt pleasantly petite standing opposite her and Bara’s slight frame was little more than a wisp alongside the two of them.
‘Sigurjona is not available,’ Osk announced sternly. ‘I thought your officers had already been given all the available information they asked for yesterday.’
‘They were,’ Gunna replied equally sternly. ‘But we have some more questions for Sigurjona.’
‘I’m here in her place while she’s out of the office. You can ask me anything relevant to the company.’
‘What exactly is your role here?’ Gunna asked.
‘I am the operations manager. I handle the day-to-day running of the company. If you have questions, I can do my best to help,’ she barked, looking anything but helpful.
‘Where is your boss right now?’
‘She’s not here.’
‘I wasn’t asking where she isn’t.’
‘I’m not at liberty to divulge her whereabouts.’
‘You would be if I come back with a warrant.’
‘In that case, our lawyers will be waiting for you.’
‘If that’s the way you want to play it, that’s fine with me. Now, I want to speak to some of your staff.’
‘Who?’
‘To begin with, I want to talk to that boy with the red face who was outside just now.’
‘We don’t have a meeting room available right now.’
‘In that case he can come down to Hverfisgata and we can talk there, and you can send the rest of them down at thirty-minute intervals.’
Gunna lifted herself to her maximum height, bringing the top of her head level with Osk’s nose.
‘It’s past five o’clock. People will be going home shortly,’ she protested.
‘Then you’ll just have to tell them that they can’t.’
‘All right. You can use the canteen if you must. I’ll ask the receptionist to clear it for you and make sure nobody disturbs you.’
‘Is that Disa?’
‘Disa? No, she left. Ill health, depression.’
