‘No, I’m afraid I haven’t. We’re a bit behind the times out here in the backwoods, you know.’
‘I think you ought to have a look. Is your computer running?’
‘Now? No, just switched off. I have to be in Reykjavík in half an hour.’
‘Will you have a look when you get back? I’ll email you the link if you like?’
‘All right. You do that, if you think it’s important.’
‘OK. I really think you need to see this. I’ll do it right now, and I’ll call you back later, unless you have time to meet, since you’re on your way over here anyway?’
‘I’ll have to wait and see how long I spend sitting around at Hverfisgata. You can call my mobile around three if you like, and we’ll see then. OK?’
‘So that’s official, then? It stinks?’
‘Absolutely reeks, dear girl.’
Jonni and Dagga were hunched over her laptop perched on a tall table at a café not far from
‘It’s a real story,’ Dagga mused. ‘Something that would make some waves.’
Jonni sipped his lukewarm coffee. ‘A homegrown Icelandic scandal of the kind that we’ve seen so many times before.’
‘Meaning?’
‘It goes on all the time, but nobody talks about it. It’s well-connected people cashing in on their connections. Look, this company, what’s it called?’
‘ESC, Energy Supply Consultation.’
‘Or whatever they’re called. It’s been done before and there’s nothing new about it. You set up a state-owned company with taxpayers’ money, let it run quietly for a good while without actually doing much or letting anyone notice, until it becomes part of the scenery. With me so far?’
Dagga nodded.
‘That’s the easy part. Then comes the trickier bit. Privatization is king, so eventually the company is privatized, sold off.’
‘Understood. So what’s wrong with that?’
‘It’s basically a form of insider trading, the whole thing set up in advance with some decent government contracts, a healthy injection of cash — yours and mine, I might add. Then it floats and there’s an influx of cash and you go to the bank and they’ll match it and maybe a good bit more. The whole thing is boosted, there’s a scramble for stock in the company, so you and your mates who bought into it on the cheap can sell and make a killing, or sit on it and hope for a bigger killing later. Bingo, it’s pay-day.’
‘OK,’ Dagga said slowly. ‘Unethical, but illegal?’
‘Does it matter?’ Jonni leaned back and gazed out at the rain with the satisfied look on his face of a man who has already done enough work before lunch to allow him a relaxed afternoon.
‘Of course it matters. It’s in the public interest, surely?’ Dagga asked.
‘Certainly. The public absolutely, definitely should know.’
‘So, are we going to tell them?’
Jonni shrugged. ‘Dear girl, you don’t know the half of it yet. Go on, join the dots.’
‘All right,’ she sighed. ‘ESC is due to be floated on the stock exchange. The people who have share options grab and sell, making a fat profit.’
Jonni leaned forward, unwittingly planting his elbow in a puddle of cold coffee. ‘Now, who stands to gain?’
‘The people with share options.’
‘Who are?’
‘There’s plenty of them.’
Jonni stretched and upended the remains of his coffee down his throat. ‘It’s not that simple. If you like, you can go to Reynir Óli and tell him you have a cracking story about government corruption at the highest level, with a minister presiding over the selling off of state assets to a coterie of selected friends, or even himself, come to that, and see what happens.’
‘Come on, Jonni. Tell me. I’ll be your best friend.’
Jonni sighed and stood up. Dagga closed her laptop and stowed it away in her bag.
‘Just follow the money.’
‘OK,’ Dagga replied slowly. ‘Come on, tell me more.’
‘Who owns
‘There are several owners.’
Jonni shoved open the door and they emerged into the street. He buttoned his coat and shivered. It was cold for late summer.
‘Yeah. But who’s the big boy?’ he asked, ploughing through puddles while Dagga stepped from side to side to avoid them and tried to keep up with Jonni’s pace.
‘Rich Golli, Ingólfur Hrafn Ormsson. Does he have a stake in this as well?’
‘Dagga, my dear. Rich Golli has fingers in financial pies everywhere. I have no idea if Our Glorious Leader has an interest in ESC, but you can be pretty sure that he has friends who have, and he’s unlikely to want to piss them off, unless, of course, there’s a grudge he wants to get off his chest. Hard to say.’
‘So what do we do?’
‘Up to you. Take it to Reynir Óli and see what happens, if you like.’
‘Jonni, if it’s such a good story, why aren’t you following this one yourself?’ Dagga asked suspiciously.
A grin began at the corner of Jonni’s mouth and spread slowly across as his face lit up.