detail.
“Kleifar? Or Kleifaberg, maybe?”
“That’s it. But they were getting into property as well. This was before the banks were privatized and property prices hadn’t started to shoot up. If I’d known, I’d have bought a house then,” he added ruefully. “But about a fortnight before the, um, incident, Steindor came to see me. I was in my first real job as well, as a reporter on a daily back then. Steindor said that he was sure there was something going on that he wasn’t comfortable with. Kleifaberg and a couple of others were buying up property at an unprecedented rate, a lot of it owned by the city, at some surprisingly low prices. It was being practically given away. This was land that has housing estates and hypermarkets on it today.”
“A bit of insider trading going on?”
“Exactly. Some highly placed people within the city council were allowing potentially very valuable properties to be sold quietly to their friends.”
“So what did you do? What did Steindor want you to do?”
“He was giving me a fantastic story, but unfortunately it was a bit too dynamite. It reflected badly on his employers and several municipal authorities. He promised me more information and some documents to back him up.”
“But then he was killed in a fight?”
“Precisely.”
Gulli Olafs stared out of the window, where a fat black fly buzzed in the corner. He sighed deeply. “I had nothing to go on. No evidence, no documents. I asked some uncomfortable questions but got only fudged answers in response. The guy who was my editor at the time didn’t want me to pursue it and discouraged me from digging into it.”
“So what did you do?”
“There wasn’t anything I could do. There were no real avenues open to investigate. Look, I was the new boy in the office. I’d been told in no uncertain terms that if I were to continue digging into this, my career would finish before it had begun. Then I had a warning.”
Gunna frowned. “What sort of warning?”
“I remember it like it was yesterday. I left the office late one evening and was surprised when I got to the car and found it wasn’t locked, but just thought I must have forgotten. So I got in and was about to turn the key when there was a hand around my neck.”
“What? Someone was in the back seat?”
“Yeah, and a rope. Whoever it was pulled a rope round my throat and round the back of the seat until I was practically choking. He said, very clearly, “Back off. Leave it. You know what.” That was it. A deep voice. That’s all I can say. Didn’t see anything.”
“You didn’t go to the police?”
“God, no. I was terrified. Went home, threw up, bolted the door and stayed in for a week. It’s a long time ago now, but I still wake up in the night sometimes. That’s the first time I’ve told anyone about this, ever.”
“I see. It may be a stupid question, but do you have any idea who it might have been, or who was sending you a message?” Gulli Olafs shrugged. “I’m as sure as it’s possible to be that it was something to do with Kleifaberg or the people who owned it, and still do.”
“And that is … ?”
“He doesn’t do quite so much these days, but I guess Jonas Valur has made his pile and prefers to spend most of his time on a golf course in Portugal, especially now that he’s a highly respectable figure and a well-known party stalwart.”
JONAS VALUR HaJALTASON glowered. The urbane businessman with the convincingly sincere smile Gunna had spoken to before was gone, replaced by a snarling man who radiated suspicion.
“Where’s your son?” she asked without any kind of preamble, after she had brought him unwillingly to his front door. “He’s overseas.
He doesn’t live in Iceland these days.”
“Where?”
“You’ll have to ask him that yourself.”
“You’re aware that obstructing an investigation is an offence?” Gunna snapped.
“I’m not obstructing anything. I don’t know his whereabouts.” Jonas Valur stood defensively in the doorway of the expensive flat that Gunna could see glimpses of behind him.
“Come on. Don’t try and spin me a line. The man’s a co-director of several of your companies. Do you seriously expect me to believe that you don’t know where to find him?”
“I have email addresses. But I don’t have a physical address.” Gunna’s look told Jonas Valur that she knew he was lying blatantly. “What do you want to talk to him about? Maybe I could send him a message and ask him to contact you?” he suggested with the ghost of a smile.
“He was in Iceland last week. He flew to London on Friday. Why did he leave so suddenly?”
“Sindri was here to see his mother, who is seriously ill. I only saw him for an hour before he flew back to Europe. I had no foreknowledge that he was going to be here.”
“So where is he now?”
Jonas Valur spread his palms in answer.
“When do you expect to see him again?”
“I have no idea. Sindri has his own business interests overseas and has steadily had less and less involvement with this company, to the point that he takes practically no active part in the running of Kleifar any more.”
“What about Kleifaberg?”
“What?”
“You heard.”
“Kleifaberg is a company we wound up years ago.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know what you know about these things, officer, but Kleifaberg had served its purpose. That particular line of business came to an end, so the company was wound up. It’s as simple as that.”
“What kind of business?”
“Haven’t you done your homework?” Jonas Valur asked. “I’d have thought you’d know already.”
“I’ve asked a few questions and not had many favourable reports of it. So I’d like to hear it from you.”
The return of the urbane persona alarmed Gunna. It told her that Jonas Valur was no longer on the defensive.
“Kleifaberg was a property development operation on a fairly small scale. We bought land and either developed it ourselves or found suitable partners who were capable of taking on projects like that.”
“And this was principally Sindri’s business?”
“It was. He’s a smart boy, my son,” Jonas Valur said, unable to conceal his pride. “He saw the writing on the wall and listened to the analysts. He sold up his interests and shifted overseas to a more stable business environment. He was, I believe, the only one who was pragmatic enough to get out in good time. As it happens, he could have held on for another year or more. But …”
The spread palms finished the sentence.
“What I’d like to know, officer, is why you are taking an interest in a smallish company like Kleifaberg, which no longer exists, which always operated entirely legally, and the activities of which were mostly so long ago that they fall under various statutes of limitations.”
“I think you know I can’t tell you that. But I think you also know as well as I do that your son has some questions to answer.”
“MUM, ARE YOU going to be long?” Laufey asked as Gunna tried to make out what she was saying over the rumble of wheels on tarmac. In spite of the crackle of the poor connection, she instinctively realized that something was not right.
“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” she asked, eyes on the road, one finger to her ear to push the earpiece a little more firmly into place.
“I don’t know. Sigrun’s really unhappy about something. She’s been crying and all sorts.”
