his face fell. He recovered quickly.
“Ah, good morning, officer. I have to say, this isn’t a convenient time,” he said, doing his best to mask his discomfort.
“I realize that fully, but I assure you this isn’t trivial,” Gunna said.
“In that case you had better come in,” he said resignedly. “Helena, would you look after our guests?” He looked helplessly at Gunna and pursed his lips into a thin line in irritation. “Come with me, please. We’ll go to my study.”
The book-lined den in the basement was reminiscent of his parliamentary office, but considerably larger. Hallur sat at a small desk and gestured for Gunna to take a seat on the other side.
“Last night a man was shot at his home in the Setberg. You’ve heard about this?” Gunna said without preamble.
“I heard something on the radio this morning, but I had a late night last night and haven’t listened too carefully to the news yet.”
“The victim’s identity hasn’t been released yet. But I can tell you that it was Bjartmar Arnarson.”
“What?” The colour vanished from Hallur’s face. “Do you know who … I mean, who did this? Who’d want to kill Bjartmar?” he asked helplessly as Gunna scrutinized him for reactions.
“Someone who knew just what he was doing, apparently.”
“How? I mean, how did it happen?”
“He was shot by the front door of his house, twice, at close range with a shotgun,” Gunna said grimly. “This wasn’t an accident. Half the force is working on this one case now. What I’m after is a motive that could lead me to the killer. But what interests me right now is that Bjartmar not only had no shortage of people with not much love for him; he also had a good few partners in his various businesses. I’m concerned that there might be a list here, and someone out to settle grudges.”
If Hallur’s face had not already been white, it would undoubtedly have gone paler.
“How far back does your acquaintance with Bjartmar go?” she continued.
“A few years.”
“All right. Let”s not play games. Your acquaintance with Bjartmar goes back to the years when you were a city councillor closely involved with the departments and committees overseeing land procurement and sales.”
“I don’t know how you—”
“It’s all in the records. All you have to do is dig deep enough,” Gunna said quietly, opening her briefcase and taking out some photocopied sheets. “It’s all here, minutes of the procurement committees, reports, financial forecasts, et cetera. The city quietly sold off land in Grafarvogur and plots in and around the city centre without any kind of consultation or bidding process on a number of occasions. Every time, these plots were sold to companies that were run by Bjartmar Arnarson and Sindri Valsson. There’s a word for this, you know.”
“What?” Hallur asked dazedly.
“I’d say it’s corruption, but that’s not my concern right now. I’m more interested in knowing who else the bloke with the shotgun might want to settle up with. Where’s Sindri now?”
“Er … Portugal, I think. That’s where he normally is.”
“How far did all this go? And for how long?” Gunna demanded.
“Look, I don’t think I ought to be speaking to you about this without a lawyer. I don’t want to be in a position of incriminating myself.”
“Don’t be stupid. I’m wondering how many people you lot upset over the years, you and Bjartmar and Sindri between you. Just how many people are there who might hold a grudge against you?”
Hallur sank down in his chair and looked blank.
“There are so many,” he said morosely. “I sort of kept in the background and did what I could to push business their way. Jonas Valur, you know, is an influential man, and quite a few of us owe him favours. Bjartmar and Sindri did the business side of things until they went their separate ways.”
“And when was this?” Gunna asked.
“A few years ago, I suppose. We were at one of the informal gatherings we have occasionally.”
“Who’s that? The Svana Syndicate?”
“Well, yes,” Hallur admitted. “Bjartmar and Sindri were in the process of winding Kleifaberg up. Bjartmar had already set up Landex and Sandex, so he was doing all right. But Sindri took us all by surprise. He said he was getting out. Of course we all thought he was completely mad. The economy was booming at the time. But he said he’d consulted analysts and gave it two years. In the event, he was entirely right.”
“You mean he predicted the crash, sold his assets and emigrated?”
“He still comes back here sometimes. But, yes, he saw something the rest of us missed and put all his cash into property in Portugal. Hotels, golf courses, that sort of thing.”
“And Bjartmar?”
“God, I’ll never forget the two of them arguing that night. They’re both pretty fiery and it practically came to blows. I’m sure Sindri would have hit Bjartmar if his father hadn’t been there,” he reminisced, staring over Gunna’s head at the wall behind her. “Bjartmar hasn’t done quite so well. His Spanish portfolio has been stable, as far as I know, but he’s had problems here. He stretched himself a long way and some of his companies are struggling. Rigel’s just about getting by but Arcturus Holdings is well over its limits. Both of those companies built property that back in 2007 would have sold as soon as it hit the market. But then everything was turned upside down. Rigel Investment built those luxury flats on Lindargata. Some of them sold and some are rented, but there are still too many empty. Arcturus built all those terraces in Gardab?r, about a hundred houses altogether, and they’re practically all empty.”
“Bjartmar Arnarson was in financial difficulties?” Gunna asked, reminding herself that this was the district where Long Ommi had been hiding in a brand-new empty house.
Hallur nodded glumly. “I’d say he was in serious danger of losing control of Rigel, possibly in the near future. It’s quite possible that he only held on to ownership because the bank had enough on its plate already and the last thing they wanted was to suddenly own a hundred empty houses all at the same time.”
“Are there creditors over these houses, then?”
“God, yes. Some of the contractors went bankrupt. But Bjartmar was pretty smart in a lot of ways. He owned the company that handled the project under a different tax number, so that operation went bust without directly affecting Rigel, which actually owns the properties.”
“Wheels within wheels? The usual dodges? Doing favours for your cronies?” Gunna said with disdain.
“Business.” Hallur shrugged. “Just business. That’s how it works.”
“Steindor Hjalmarsson. Does that name mean anything to you?” Hallur looked blank. “Don’t think so. Should it?”
“Not necessarily. Tell me what your movements were on the day Svana Geirs died.”
“Are you still on that? God, I’d have thought you’d have caught the bastard by now,” Hallur said.
“A little more co-operation and we might have,” Gunna retorted.
“Is this anything to do with Bjartmar?” he asked warily. “Are these murders linked?”
“That’s what I need to find out. Now, details. Tell me what happened that day, without leaving anything out this time.”
Hallur groaned. “I left here around six thirty, as usual, and went to my parliamentary office. There I went through paperwork, answered emails, all that kind of crap, had a meeting with a couple of colleagues—”
“About what?”
“The oil refinery proposal in the Westfjords. Basically it’s an environment-versus-employment question. So whatever stand we take on it, we’re going to be wrong,” he said bitterly. “Personally I’d like to see the effort going into aquaculture, but I’m only a junior MP and so nobody pays much attention.”
“You can give me the names of these parliamentary colleagues?”
“Certainly. Eyrun Valgeirsdottir, Palmi Marteinsson, Fannar Jonsson. There were others, but those are the ones that spring to mind. They’ll vouch for me.”
“And then?”
“The meeting came to an end at around ten thirty and I went out.”
“To meet Svana?”
“I went to Fit Club and was expecting to meet her. She wasn’t there so I did an hour of running and weights,
