Frozen Assets

Reynir Óli’s head jerked up, eyes wide. ‘What?’

‘Energy Supply Consultation.’

‘I know what it stands for,’ he snapped. ‘What’s the story?’

‘It’s to do with that Hvalvík aluminium project, the one that went quiet when National Power decided not to sell them electricity.’

Reynir Óli had recovered his composure, but had a nasty taste in his mouth and was sure that Jonni was scrutinizing him. He nodded slowly. ‘And?’

‘I understand that it’s about to be floated on the stock exchange now that it has a contract to supply InterAlu with electricity.’

‘And?’

‘ESC were granted a special concession as a public-private partnership to build an autonomous hydro-electric plant in the hills above Hvalvík, so they can dam the river there to produce electricity and supply it to InterAlu.’

‘Isn’t this just rumour?’ Reynir Óli asked. ‘Is this really a story that we can use?’

‘Good grief, man. If that isn’t a story, what is?’ Jonni exploded, pulling off his glasses and pointing them at Reynir Óli. ‘Public money used to set up a dodgy company that then gets floated while all the scumbags in the know get share options. They get a fat contract through some shady back-door deals with other government departments, side-stepping a state monopoly in the process, and the moment the contract with InterAlu becomes public knowledge, their share value will go through the roof.’

‘Channel Three’s already sniffing around it,’ Dagga added. ‘I don’t know how far they’ve got, but they’ll run it as soon as they can get a handle on the scam.’

Panic flashed behind Reynir Óli’s rimless glasses. ‘I need to see something absolutely cast-iron before we can run this,’ he said doubtfully. ‘Look, guys, we don’t want to upset too many people too early. So, look, er, keep this very discreet and, er, I’ll do some consultation. OK?’

Without pausing to listen to a reply, Reynir Óli was gone.

‘Like a scalded cat,’ Jonni observed with satisfaction. ‘Did you make that up about Channel Three being on to all this?’

Dagga nodded.

‘Master stroke. Excellent.’

Skúli looked from one to the other and back again. ‘Is all this true?’

‘Is what true?’ Dagga asked.

‘All that about ESC and InterAlu and Hvalvík?’

‘Absolutely,’ Jonni replied. ‘According to some of my finest unattributable sources of government gossip, our young lady here is right on the money.’

27

Thursday, 25 September

‘Seen him?’ Gunna demanded as soon as Snorri came in.

‘Not a whisper of him anywhere.’

‘Bloody man. Where the hell is he?’

‘No idea, chief. He’s just vanished.’

‘Right. Tell me where you went.’

Snorri sat down and opened his folder of notes, with everything carefully logged. His finger followed the trail down the page.

‘Started at the taxi ranks, Hafnarfjördur, Kópavogur, Grensás, then Lækjartorg, Tryggvagata, the usual places. No sign. Spoke to a few of the taxi drivers and nobody’s seen Fat Matti about. Then his flat, bedsit, whatever you call it. Ugly Tóta — is she really called that?’

‘Ugly by name and ugly by nature. She used to be a terrible hell-raiser in her younger days, which weren’t that long ago. I’ve bundled her into the back of a squad car more than once.’

‘Ugly Tóta hasn’t seen him. Nothing more than she told you the other day.’

‘So he hasn’t been back?’

‘Not that she’s aware of, and there’s hardly anything in his room to come back for anyway, you said.’

‘OK. Didn’t expect anything else. How about Nonni the Taxi?’

‘Nothing there either. Nonni was there himself this time and he’s not happy.’

‘He’s not a cheerful character at the best of times.’

‘Even less cheerful now. Matti’s actually one of his best drivers and he does quite a bit of his contract work, and for that they like to keep the same faces as much as possible. He says that when Matti’s not well, by which I suppose he means pissed, then he always calls in. Never fails. But now he’s disappeared and so has the car.’

‘In that case I can understand. A newish car, isn’t it?’

‘Yup. No car and no driver to drive it. Like the man said, there’s payments to be made on the vehicle whether it’s earning money or not.’

‘Did you come over heavy?’

‘Did my best. Nonni was a bit reticent until I pushed him and made it clear that this is a murder inquiry we’re dealing with, and he came clean.’

Gunna just raised an eyebrow instead of asking.

‘It seems that some of what Matti does by way of contract work is for Mundi Grétars.’

‘Scaramanga?’

‘That’s the one. Evil place, a real rip-off. They have some, um, exotic dancers there who apparently do more than just dance, all foreign girls.’

‘Prostitution?’

‘Who knows? The policy is that whatever the girls do outside working hours is up to them. It seems that some do and some don’t. But it’s common knowledge that Mundi doesn’t discourage them from doing business, as it keeps the punters coming in. Matti and a few of the other drivers ferry them about to wherever they’re supposed to be working.’

‘Which is where?’

‘Parties sometimes, or mostly private houses for special customers. They work at hotels in town as well.’