“He worked there for about six months, as I remember,” she continued haltingly. “But the company was bigger then. There were the exports to Spain and Portugal that we still have today, but there were also the property and entertainment businesses that were Sindri’s interests. There were three bookkeepers then, myself and some salespeople.”
“And Sindri Valsson?”
Anna Fjóla glanced up sharply and immediately looked down at her cup.
“How did Sindri and Steindór get on?”
“Not well, but not badly. We could all see they didn’t like each other. Steindór thought Sindri was a spoiled brat and he didn’t do a very good job of hiding what he thought. Sindri thought that Steindór stuck his nose into things that didn’t concern him.”
She took another sip of tea and wiped her lips delicately on a handkerchief from her handbag.
“I daresay they were each partly right about the other,” she said with a thin smile.
“So why are you here today, Anna Fjóla?” Gunna asked gently.
“It’s been nagging at me for days, what you said,” Anna Fjóla said quietly. “The day that woman was murdered, Jónas Valur was out of the office for part of the morning.”
“What time was that?”
“He came in a little later than usual, around nine thirty, and left at eleven. He was back soon after twelve, as far as I remember.”
Gunna had no doubt that Anna Fjóla remembered correctly. She frowned to herself and thought out the possibilities. The timing put Jónas Valur as able to have been at Svana’s flat at the edge of the time frame that Miss Cruz had given them. “You’re certain?”
“Yes,” Anna Fjóla said in an icy voice, as if the possibility of her being mistaken was a ludicrous idea.
“You realize the implications?” Gunna asked grimly. “That’s why I want to be sure you’re certain of the timing.”
“I’m certain.”
Gunna sat back and finished her coffee while Anna Fjóla sipped delicately.
“I’m just wondering why you’re telling me this, after all the years with Jónas Valur.”
Anna Fjóla’s thin shoulders rose and fell with a barely perceptible shrug. “To set the record straight, I suppose. I have worked hard and honestly for all these years for a salary that’s reasonable, but no more than that. But next month I’ll be joining the unemployed and I suppose I’m, well, upset about that.”
“How come?” Gunna asked.
“Kleifar is being sold. Jónas Valur is selling his shares and I happen to know that Sindri has already sold his. Between them they owned eighty per cent of the company.”
“Who’s it being sold to?”
Anna Fjóla smiled. “That’s just it. On paper it’s a fairly simple transaction. A few thousand euros change hands and Kleifar has new owners. But so that Jónas Valur can retire somewhere warm near his son, the new owners will quietly make over to him a couple of large villas in Portugal. That’s the real price of the company. The new owners get an established saltfish trading company in Iceland at a good price, and Jónas Valur gets the value of it without having to worry about currency restrictions.”
“And how do you know all this?”
“Please. After almost twenty years, I know Jónas Valur as well as I know my own husband-better, if anything. Jónas Valur has never been able to remember a password or a username, and if I didn’t have all that information at my fingertips, the company would come to a halt tomorrow. I check his emails, bank statements, everything, even the ones he thinks are secret.”
“And when is all this due to happen?”
“It’s been going on over the last few months. Jónas Valur thinks I don’t know what’s been happening under my nose. His friends Bjarki and Hallur are part of it as well, not to mention that Ólafur Jacobsen.”
“The legal expert.”
“Yes, a vile man. Bjarki Steinsson has been falsifying figures for the last year to make the company look less profitable so that the low purchase price doesn’t appear suspicious, and Hallur Hallbjörnsson arranged for the port authority to buy the office building. The port doesn’t need it and actually can’t afford it either, but you should never underestimate what Jónas Valur can get his friends to do for him.”
“And what happens to you? Don’t you get to work for the new owners?”
“I don’t think so,” Anna Fjóla said with a thin smile. “They don’t want an old woman telling them how to run their business. Kleifar will officially cease to exist and may well even be insolvent if Bjarki Steinsson has done his work well. Its activities will be absorbed by a holding company, so there’s no need to worry about redundancy for an old woman.”
“Another quick visit to Jónas Valur might be in order,” Gunna mused, half to herself.
Anna Fjóla drank the rest of her tea, put the cup down firmly in front of her and stood up. “In that case, I’d suggest you don’t wait too long. All the contracts have been signed and I don’t believe he has much left to wait around Reykjavík for.”
She marched out of the café with her mouth pursed and her nose in the air, leaving Gunna wondering what was in the thick envelope that she had discreetly left on the table where her handbag had rested.