“Jónas Valur said we could …” He hesitated and looked up. “We could all start screwing her again if she hadn’t got too slack by then,” he quoted in a clear voice. “Hallur was beside himself, said that it was all right for the rest of us, but it was different for him with a career ahead of him to think about.
So Jónas Valur just said, ‘Well you’d better sort it out then.’ That was it. He left. I saw him sign the chit at the bar and that was it, the last I saw of him.”
“So who killed Svana Geirs?” Gunna asked, staring straight at him.
“I don’t know,” he whispered almost soundlessly as a tear threatened to overflow the corner of one eye.
To Bjarki Steinsson’s dismay, the dining table’s deep shine had been covered by a cloth, on which were arranged plates of cakes and biscuits, cups and little jugs of cream and milk.
“Please, now you’ll have to stay for a while,” he whispered to Gunna, staring at the table. She saw Helgi’s eyes light up and her heart softened.
“Certainly. Actually, there’s another matter I wanted to speak to you about,” she said, settling herself in one of the matching high-backed chairs as Bjarki Steinsson’s wife poured coffee into dainty cups and Helgi filled a delicate-looking plate with slices of cake.
“What’s that?” Bjarki asked, still blank-eyed after the conversation in his office.
“Kleifaberg. You did the accounts for Kleifaberg?”
“You mean Kleifar, Jónas Valur’s company?”
“No,” Gunna corrected, sipping the aromatic coffee and nodding her thanks to Bjarki’s wife, off whom anger still coming in waves. “The company that Jónas Valur, Bjartmar Arnarson and Sindri Valsson ran between them until a few years ago.”
“Oh, Kleifaberg,” Bjarki said, as if a ghost had come back to haunt him. “Yes. We prepared their accounts for several years.”
“Good. What really went on there? They bought property, developed it and it sold. Nothing unusual about that. But as far as I can make out, the real profits came from buying some plum sites at extremely low prices.”
“Yes …?” he said uncertainly. “I really think you’d have to speak to them about that.”
“Bjartmar is dead, Sindri Valsson has disappeared somewhere in southern Europe and Jónas Valur is far from inclined to be co-operative right now. Off the record, I’d like you to tell me what went on. It would be, let’s say, helpful on your part.”
“Strictly off the record?”
Gunna nodded and sipped while Helgi popped another delicate biscuit into his mouth and smiled his appreciation.
“Well,” Bjarki sighed. “It was one of those things that wasn’t strictly speaking illegal, but …” He tailed off sadly.
“Less than ethical?” Gunna finished for him, and watched him nod in glum agreement.
“Hallur was on a lot of committees and he made sure some sales of land went through quietly to Kleifaberg without being discussed or advertised. Like I said, it wasn’t illegal, but it wasn’t exactly acceptable either. Kleifaberg developed some sites themselves with housing complexes, and other parcels of land they just sold on after a while.”
“You did the accounting for this scam?”
“I don’t know if I’d call it a scam,” Bjarki said with the first sign of any kind of authority that Gunna had seen.
“What do you call it, then? What would the newspapers have called it if they had found out? What about Steindór Hjálmarsson?” she asked suddenly, and Helgi looked up quickly.
“Who?”
“Come on. A young man who was a bookkeeper at Kleifaberg. He died in 2000 after smelling a rat.”
“Oh, him. Very sad. Didn’t he get beaten up or something? It was a long time ago now.”
“It was sad. But he’s no less dead for it having been ten years ago.”
“I, er, I don’t know. It’s not something I could safely comment on.”
“I assume Kleifaberg made a considerable amount of money out of this,” Gunna said flatly, and Bjarki nodded.
“It was a highly profitable venture,” he said finally.
“Where did all the cash go?”
“That’s not for me to say.”
“We’re off the record, don’t forget. I know you did the tax returns for Jónas Valur and Bjartmar’s companies. So where did it go?”
Bjarki shrugged helplessly. “Abroad, mostly. Bjartmar was already running Landex, and a lot of his cash went into setting up Sandex in Spain. Sindri bought two hotels and a golf course in Portugal. It’s a delightful place. We’ve been there a couple of times,” he said wistfully, and then regretted his words.
“I hope you had a lovely time,” Gunna said acidly. “What I want to know is how Sindri Valsson was made aware that Steindór Hjálmarsson found out about this scam-because I have no doubt as to who battered him to death.”
“No? Surely not?”
“There’s enough evidence to make a case,” Gunna lied as Helgi coughed discreetly. “Maybe you weren’t aware of quite how ruthless these people are? Come on, Helgi, I think we’d better be on our way.”
Helgi dusted crumbs from the front of his jacket and rose unwillingly to his feet, taking a longing glance at a banana and chocolate cake on the table that he had already done some serious damage to.