Frozen Assets

In the flat’s large living room, with its big picture window giving a magnificent view over the brooding mountain of Esja and Faxaflói Bay, a group of people lounged on chairs and sofas. Photographs from the march had been blown up and pasted across one wall and Skúli could see one of Kolbeinn in his juggler’s outfit in the centre. Music played quietly in the background and a TV on the table had the 24/7 News channel running with the sound turned down. Everyone had a bottle or a glass in hand. Skúli recognized a few familiar faces around the room, including Lára sitting in a wicker chair in the corner, and wondered if the broad grin on her face was directed his way in particular.

‘I’m sorry, have I interrupted a party?’ Skúli mumbled apologetically.

‘It would be a party if things didn’t look so grim. It’s just a little celebration now that the Hvalvík Lagoon project has been parked.’

Skúli felt suddenly uncomfortable. ‘Look, Kolli, I don’t have much time. Could we talk quietly for a minute? Is that OK?’

Kolbeinn still had the grin on his face. ‘Come in here,’ he said, stepping out into the hall, crowded with shoes and boots, and into the little kitchen. He lifted himself up and sat on the worktop while Skúli took the only chair and spread his notebook on the table.

‘So, what’s your take on all this?’ Skúli asked.

‘A victory for us.’

‘In what way?’

‘In that InterAlu have pulled out and the Hvalvík smelter has been put on hold.’

‘Surely this was all due to the banking crisis and ESC being insolvent?’

Kolbeinn shrugged. ‘So? It’s had the right result.’

A knock at the front door echoed inside the kitchen and Kolbeinn looked up, waiting for someone from the living room to answer it. When nobody made a move, he slid down from the worktop.

‘Just a moment. I’ll be right back.’

‘Hi, great you could come,’ Skúli heard Kolbeinn greeting the person at the door, followed by footsteps in the hall as they made their way to the living room. He caught a glimpse of a sober business suit and sensible shoes as the woman passed the kitchen door with Kolbeinn behind her.

‘Here she is!’ Kolbeinn announced, and a cheer erupted from the group. Skúli wondered who it was and returned to his notebook.

‘Sorry about that. They’re making so much noise in there that they can’t hear when someone knocks on the door,’ Kolbeinn apologized, hauling himself back to his seat on the worktop. ‘Where were we?’

‘InterAlu, Spearpoint, ESC.’

‘Yeah. Well, the smelter was never really our main target. We’ve focused on the whole issue of these foreign aluminium plants that do nothing for the environment and precious little for the economy, except to keep it at boiling point. In real terms they offer less employment than, say, a shoe factory or something like that.’

‘All right, you’ve made the case against aluminium. What was it about this particular site?’

‘You know as well as I do.’

‘But I need to hear it from you.’

‘Man, where do I begin? There’s just so much to be up in arms against. There’s the crooked Minister channelling lucrative contracts to his friends and his wife’s company, setting up ESC and then making sure it gets a whole heap of public subsidy before being floated on the stock market. That was a great story, actually, and it was your colleague who broke that one.’

‘But what about the Hvalvík Lagoon power plant?’

‘That was the big one. Setting up a privately run power generation plant and taking protected status away from part of a national park to do it was just too much to be ignored. You know, Skúli? There is something you could delve into.’

‘Which is?’

The smile fell from Kolbeinn’s face. ‘Two of our closest collaborators were murdered in the last year and the perpetrator has never been caught.’

‘The Norwegian guy?’

‘That’s him. The policewoman from Hvalvík was right behind him but she was prevented from making an arrest. We have it on very good authority that a unit was deployed on orders direct from the Ministry, and actively prevented the police from arresting this man.’

‘You’re sure?

Kolbeinn nodded again.

‘Bjarni Jón? Higher up?’

‘Lárus Jóhann.’

‘But why?’

‘God. Can you imagine the uproar if it came to court? There’s so much shit that would have come out that it couldn’t happen. So he was quietly deported,’ Kolbeinn said.

‘I see,’ Skúli replied dubiously, wondering if this might be close to the truth or a wild conspiracy story.

‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ Kolbeinn asked, his eyes gleaming maliciously.

‘Well. .’

‘I can tell you right now that a slimmed-down Spearpoint will be up and running again tomorrow as if nothing had ever happened.’

‘You’re sure? How can you know?’

Kolbeinn tapped the side of his nose in a theatrical gesture. ‘Find out what your boss is doing today.’

‘You mean Rich Golli?’ Skúli asked.

‘Both of them.’

‘You reckon Golli’s going to be bailing Sigurjóna out?’

‘It’s a done deal. Sigurjóna didn’t have much room to manoeuvre. So she’s not a happy lady right now, especially as her husband’s also moved out.’

‘Really? Where to?’