Bjossi was lounging in the doorway with a cigarette in one hand and a mug in the other. ‘Ah, Gunna. Congratulations.’
‘On what?’
‘Your bank.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Don’t you listen to the news? Glitnir’s been bailed out and nationalized by the government. That makes Glitnir a state-owned bank, hence owned by the taxpayer, so that’s you and me.’
‘When did this happen?’ Gunna asked, mystified.
‘On the news just now.’
‘Bloody hell. That’ll put the cat among the pigeons.’
They stood in silence for a while. Eventually Bjossi ground the stub of his cigarette under his heel and stretched. ‘Apart from that, Vilhjalmur’s not here any more.’
‘What?’
‘That’s right. Officially, he’s on sick leave.’
‘But the man’s as fit as a flea,’ Gunna protested.
‘I know. That’s what’s puzzling about it.’ Bjossi grinned.
‘So who’s in charge here now?’
‘Beats me. I suppose Halli Stefans is the senior man now, or else the top man himself.’
‘The Sheriff?’
‘Yup,’ Bjossi confirmed, gulping from his mug.
‘Is he in?’
‘Think so. Why? Got something to discuss, have you?’
‘Mind your own business.’
Upstairs, Gunna waited until the County Sheriff’s secretary smiled and ushered her into his office. This time the Sheriff wore a suit instead of the faded jeans and polo shirt he had been in the last time they met.
‘Ah, Gunnhildur. I was going to ask you to come and have a chat,’ he said with a broad smile.
‘That’s good, because I need a word with you as well.’
His expression instantly became serious. ‘I can’t tell you everything. I’m truly sorry about the incident when our man, er, eluded you.’
‘I’d have had the bastard if those toy soldiers hadn’t got in the bloody way,’ she said with more anger in her voice than she had intended.
The Sheriff looked embarrassed. ‘As I said, I’m sorry. What I can tell you is that there was interference at the last moment from much higher up. Special Unit wasn’t deployed on my authority. I can’t say much more than that, except that the men you encountered were not a regular squad.’
‘Was this done to make sure Harde got away? To save some big shots from a lot of embarrassment?’
The Sheriff nodded almost imperceptibly. ‘This was taken out of my hands, and then handed straight back.’
‘Was it that National Commissioner’s dogsbody?’
‘No. Certainly not. This came from . . .’ He lifted a hand and pointed upwards.
‘From God?’ Gunna asked sharply.
The Sheriff laughed humourlessly. ‘No. But not far off. I don’t know the full story either.’
‘Fair enough. I suppose it’ll leak out eventually, around the time I come up for retirement.’
‘Ah, that’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about.’ The Sheriff smiled.
‘Retirement? Yes, please.’
‘No, not quite. It’s this posting to Egilstadir.’
Gunna opened her mouth to speak.
‘It’s just that Ivar Laxdal was asking after you earlier,’ the Sheriff continued. ‘Of course I couldn’t say anything, as you hadn’t made a decision.’
‘Go on,’ Gunna said encouragingly.
‘I think you’d better speak to him yourself.’
The door opened as he knocked and Kolbeinn the juggler’s face broke into a grin as he saw Skuli on the doorstep.
‘Come in, there’re a few of us here, so you’d better join in,’ he said happily.
In the flat’s large living room, with its big picture window giving a magnificent view over the brooding mountain of Esja and Faxafloi Bay, a group of people lounged on chairs and sofas. Photographs from the march had been blown up and pasted across one wall and Skuli could see one of Kolbeinn in his juggler’s outfit in the centre. Music played quietly in the background and a TV on the table had the 24/7 News channel running with the sound turned down. Everyone had a bottle or a glass in hand. Skuli recognized a few familiar faces around the room, including Lara sitting in a wicker chair in the corner, and wondered if the broad grin on her face was directed his way in particular.
‘I’m sorry, have I interrupted a party?’ Skuli mumbled apologetically.
‘It would be a party if things didn’t look so grim. It’s just a little celebration now that the Hvalvik Lagoon project has been parked.’
Skuli felt suddenly uncomfortable. ‘Look, Kolli, I don’t have much time. Could we talk quietly for a minute? Is that OK?’
Kolbeinn still had the grin on his face. ‘Come in here,’ he said, stepping out into the hall, crowded with shoes and boots, and into the little kitchen. He lifted himself up and sat on the worktop while Skuli took the only chair and spread his notebook on the table.
‘So, what’s your take on all this?’ Skuli asked.
‘A victory for us.’
‘In what way?’
‘In that InterAlu have pulled out and the Hvalvik 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,’ Skuli 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. Skuli 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 Hvalvik 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, Skuli? There is something you could
