‘I presume you took this because it’s registered in Luxembourg and you weren’t able to get a warrant to intercept calls or get a call list. I could get my lawyer to lodge a formal complaint,’ she said. ‘We could make no end of a song and dance about this. Or we could strike a deal. You forget that you ever saw my phone, and I give you Adam on a plate.’ She watched as María stiffened in her chair and a questioning frown appeared on her face.
‘You remember Davíð at the bank?’ Agla continued, opening the phone’s recorder app and tapping in the code. The fact that her phone had been taken brought home to her the importance of locking important files behind a password; you could never be sure whose hands they might fall into.
‘Of course I remember Davíð,’ María said, with a slight impatience in her voice. ‘And I was fully aware that he was taking the rap on Adam’s behalf.’
‘Listen to this conversation between me and Davíð,’ Agla said, tapping the play button.
First there was an indistinct buzz – the noise of a coffee shop: the loud hiss of an espresso machine could be heard in the background.
‘We need to get Adam out of some difficulties. Are you in?’ Agla’s voice said, coming from the phone’s speaker.
The clatter of a cup being dropped onto a saucer could be heard before a man’s voice broke in. ‘Absolutely. Like I told you. Just tell me what needs to be done.’
‘You could get two years inside,’ Agla’s voice said.
‘It’s an opportunity. Two years is nothing compared to the life sentence I’m under at the moment.’
‘Okay,’ Agla’s voice replied. ‘We’ll find a way to transfer your debts over to a holding company overseas and they can sit there for good. You’d better go home and figure out what you need in cash. And don’t be shy. We want you to know that we appreciate this.’
‘Agla … You don’t know what this means to me. You’ve no idea how important this is.’
‘That’s good,’ Agla’s curt voice could be heard saying, followed by a click as the recording ended.
Agla put down the phone and looked into María’s eyes as she leaned eagerly forwards over the desk.
‘Do you want it?’
‘Do I want it?’ María echoed. ‘Of course I do! What kind of question is that?’
‘In that case I’m clear of everything to do with this beyond what you already have on me. Davíð gets a slap on the wrist for making a false confession and you get Adam. And we both forget the incident with the phone.’
Agla sat motionless as she watched María’s expression. She could almost read her thoughts: initially there was a doubtful smile on her face that changed to a look of disbelief before morphing into interest and finally resolve. She stood up and went to the door.
‘Wait here,’ she told Agla before disappearing through the door almost at a run.
She was back before Agla had completed a round of patience on the phone she had just retrieved.
‘Agreed,’ María said and Agla stood up.
‘I’ll email you the recording,’ she said. ‘And Davíð will be in touch with you to change his testimony.’
95
Davíð’s hair had been cut short. Agla almost felt herself missing his fair, angelic curls. He had also grown a heavy beard, which made him look older. That was just as well, she thought, as she had always seen him as an overgrown child.
’There are a few changes currently taking place,’ Agla said and Davíð stepped over the threshold, pulling the door to his house closed behind him, muffling the sound of children playing inside. ‘You’re to go to the special prosecutor today to change your testimony.’
‘What?’ Davíð frowned, obviously concerned.
‘You’re going to admit that you lied to protect Adam, but you’ve seen the error of your ways and you want to see the truth come out. So tell them everything you know.’
Davíð put out a hand and nervously clutched at the lapel of her jacket. ‘But, Agla. I took another loan on the house. I was totally relying on our deal!’ Red blotches were appearing on his pale skin and he was becoming increasingly agitated.
‘The deal stands,’ Agla said. ‘Don’t worry about that. I can even push the figure up if you need it.’
Davíð let go of her jacket and sat down on the half-built wall that separated the driveway from the steps leading up to the house.
‘I don’t understand this,’ he said. ‘I don’t see why I should stab Adam in the back now?’
‘There’s really nothing you need to understand,’ Agla told him. ‘All you need to know is that if you do as I’m asking you, then you don’t need to plead guilty – wrongly – which means you get away without a prison term and our deal remains in place. It’s a better outcome for you.’
‘And a much worse outcome for Adam,’ Davíð said.
‘Yes. That’s what it’s all about,’ Agla replied.
‘I thought you all stood together in this.’
‘For a long time that was what I thought was well,’ Agla said. ‘But when times are hard, you find out who your friends really are. You know how it is.’
96
Tómas sat in the back of the police car and pretended to be enjoying listening to the kids’ programme that the policewoman driving had decided was just right for him. She hadn’t realised that he was too big now for Pippi Longstocking, and that he was certainly big enough to understand that something out of the ordinary was going on – to want to know what this trip was all about.
The police who had come to take his father away weren’t in uniform, but the others who came afterwards did have uniforms and baseball caps, and they said they would take him to his mother’s place. He had asked again and again why his father had been taken away, but the two police women took turns to say that his mother would explain it. For the moment he couldn’t stay with his father.
Going to his mother was what Tómas desired above all else, but all the same, he felt uncomfortable. It was so weird to see strangers leading his father away in handcuffs while Dísa walked back and forth, crying. Now he regretted that he hadn’t spoken to his father for such a long time. As they emerged from the Hvalfjörður tunnel he had begun to cry, but the police woman who was at the wheel had switched the siren on for a moment to cheer him up, and it had worked. A loud noise cheered everyone up. His mother knew that and that’s why she pumped the salsa music’s volume right up whenever he was feeling down.
The closer they got to the city, the more he looked forward to seeing his mother. She would explain what had happened, as the police woman had said, and then they’d go and do something fun together. And since the police had taken his father away, he might get to stay longer with Mum.
Teddy was sitting on the seat next to him. Tómas stroked his soft fur and twisted a lock of his coat around one finger. Teddy seemed perfectly calm and even the wail of the siren hadn’t worried him. He could always trust Teddy; he was the best dog you could imagine. His mother would surely be delighted to see them both.
97
Sonja woke up with a smile on her face and Agla knew it was because her son was with her. He had kissed them both goodnight the previous evening and gone to his room with the dog, and when they had peered around the door an hour later he had been fast asleep with the dog curled up at his feet. Agla had suddenly realised that there could be a real possibility of things staying this way in the future, that life could be as it had been that evening. Now they were awake and everything was even sweeter than it had been the night before. She gently stroked a hand across Sonja’s blue-black back.
‘How are you feeling?’ she asked, and Sonja replied that she felt fine. All the same, Agla reached for the painkillers on the bedside table and handed them to her. Going by the livid bruises, she still had to be in pain. Sonja dutifully swallowed the pills and curled up again, while Agla got up. She peered into the living room, where Tómas sat watching TV in his pyjamas, and asked him if he wanted coffee. He laughed at the joke but then h
is mind was back on the screen.
In the kitchen she made coffee, on the strong side. She would have to get a proper espresso machine that she could keep here, as this standard filter coffee didn’t have enough of a kick to it. There were a few things she would have to buy for this place. Like a new fridge, she thought, as the current battered fridge’s door squeaked open.
Her phone rang, the one she had fetched from María’s office and had been assured was not being monitored. She answered it happily. William was calling from Paris.
‘I’ve completed the transfer,’ he said and Agla knew that he meant the transfer to Adam’s Tortola account. This was a large amount, although they had always referred to it as ‘the small debt’.
‘Thanks,’ Agla said and William gave her a cheerful au revoir.
Agla selected Jóhann’s number, and he answered immediately.
‘Can you let Adam know, when he’s released, that I’ve made the transfer to him for the small debt?’
‘You two don’t talk much these days…’ Jóhann said.
‘No,’ Agla said. ‘But don’t worry. I’ve cleared half of the big debt and I’m working on the rest of it. Just keep the prosecutor off my back while I finish the job.’
‘You’re…’ Jóhann said and fell silent.
Agla wasn’t sure if he was going to swear at her or congratulate her, so she ended the call before it went any further. There was every chance he didn’t know himself which way to go. He should be satisfied that she was working towards freeing them all of the debt, but more than likely he was terrified after she had given them Adam on a silver platter. It was no bad thing to keep him in a state of moderate fear.
The coffee was ready, so she filled two cups, splashed a little milk into each and carried them to the bedroom.
‘This is luxury, having room service,’ Sonja said as she half sat up in bed. Agla sat on the edge and sipped her coffee.
‘In all seriousness, which of us is the guy?’ she said. ‘Is this some kind of Sapphic secret? Something you know but don’t want to tell?’
‘I’ve already told you,’ Sonja said. ‘I’m the guy.’ But Agla could see from Sonja’s expression that she was teasing.
‘But I reckon that I could be the guy,’ she said, hesitating.
Sonja laughed. ‘And I think I’m the guy too.’ She took a gulp of coffee.
‘Really?’
‘Maybe we’re both the guy. Maybe we’re a pair of homos.’
98
Sonja stirred the onion slices in the pot. They were almost translucent, so she added the garlic and ginger she had already chopped and continued to stir gently as the aromas rose up and found their way to her taste buds. She had suddenly wanted spiced soup for lunch, and decided to give in to her desire. Cooking was always calming, especially making soup. But her thoughts built themselves up alongside the ingredients she added to the pot. She was black and blue all over and every movement was painful. Agla had made her take a couple of powerful painkillers that morning so her injuries weren’t overwhelmingly sore. What also mitigated the pain was hearing Tómas in the living room, talking to himself as he played with his Lego bricks on the floor. This moment was precisely what she wanted from life: the fragrance from the cooking pot and the sound of her son playing happily in the other room.
If only there wasn’t that constant danger hanging over them. She couldn’t be sure how long Adam would be on remand for the bank business, but she hoped it would be for as long as possible. The timing had been unbelievably perfect. The day after he had made sure that she was beaten to a pulp, he had been arrested for involvement in the market-manipulation case in which Agla was also implicated. In fact, it was astonishing that he had not been caught up in the case before, as, according to Agla, the case had been closed, but his arrest now suited her perfectly. There was something elegant about the way life turned out this way. She could use a little more of this kind of luck.
She added curry powder and onion seeds, stirring everything together with the oil as it took on a yellow colour and the aroma changed. Her arm was so sore though, she struggled to open the can of coconut milk; she had to wield the tin opener slowly. Yes, today was a day for slow movements. She also needed the leisure to think, and to do so carefully. She needed to face the fact that there were two threats. On one side were Adam and his henchmen, and on the other was Nati. Both had their claws deep in her, so if she were to escape one, she would still have the other to deal with. And that brought her to Sebastian’s proposal.
She added a stock cube to the pot and stirred so it dissolved into the coconut milk that was gradually absorbing the yellow of the curry. Searching in the fridge she found two elderly carrots, which she peeled and chopped into fine cubes for the soup, but there wasn’t a single piece of protein to be seen in the freezer. Shrimps would have been perfect.
She turned down the heat under the pot so it was just simmering and put the lid on it, and sat at the kitchen table to stare for a moment out of the window. Maybe she had got to the point at which it was best to stop trying to swim up to the surface. Perhaps it was time to sink deeper into the depths, in the hope that down there she might find something solid, a foothold at the bottom from which she could push herself up back upwards.
She picked up her phone and found the number she had stored eight days before when she had been in the mausoleum in Mexico. She pressed call. It rang a few times in a variety of tones as the signal threaded its way between networks, and finally Sebastian’s voice answered.
‘I’ve been thinking it over,’ Sonja said. ‘And I’m in.’
‘I’ll send you help,’ Sebastian said. ‘Vaya con Dios.’ – Go with God.
There was a carton containing three eggs in the fridge. They had passed their sell-by date, but everyone knew that eggs could be kept long after the date on the carton, so she carefully broke all three into the soup.
99
María was fired up after her morning’s work. She had started with two cups of coffee while she waited for Adam to be brought from remand for the initial interview, which had been, as usual with an opening encounter, short and difficult. Adam had been angry and confused, and his lawyer had found it difficult to explain the situation to him, so there was no point in digging deep into anything. After twenty-four hours in a cell in the old Skólavörðustígur jail downtown, he would have quietened down a bit, and he would be even quieter after forty-eight hours. Although there was really no reason for him to be held on remand, as all of the case files were in the special prosecutor’s keeping, and there was nothing he could do to damage their case by being at large, it didn’t do these white-collar types any harm to be locked up for a few days. That was enough to knock most of the arrogance out of them and the usual result was that they were keen to spend as long as possible being interviewed, if only because it gave them some company – and that was ideal as the aim was to get them to talk. Considering she had been granted an arrest warrant in Adam’s case, it was as well to make full use of it.
Now she was waiting for the special prosecutor to return from lunch. This was his first day back following leave and he had been besieged from the moment he had walked through the door. He generally never went far from the office to get a bite to eat, so he would be back before one o’clock. She had all of the documentation prepared to show him and was looking forward to hearing his opinion and what he thought would be the best move. She pressed the coffee machine’s cappuccino button. She would be wired after all this coffee, but that was fine. This was an action day, not a desk day.
‘You wanted a word with me?’ the special prosecutor said as he came in, and María followed him to his office.
She took the first document from the stack she was carrying, the statement from the central bank, and placed it on the desk in front of him, pointing a finger at the transaction she had already highlighted.
‘You can see here the massive payment from the smelter to the overseas parent company,’ she said. ‘The paym
ent is logged with the foreign exchange register as a payment towards a start-up costs loan.’
‘Really?’ the special prosecutor put on his reading glasses.
‘This payment is new, but it’s tagged as a quarterly payment from now on.’ The prosecutor hummed to himself as he peered at the statement. María continued: ‘This is so large a payment that, over the year, the smelter will show a loss as long as this is being paid, and according to the agreement with the Icelandic state, they pay no tax while start-up costs are being paid off.’
The special prosecutor nodded. ‘The smelter companies have always played these games,’ he said. ‘“Lifting the value of goods in transit” is what it was called in the old days, when the parent companies sold raw material to the smelter at astronomical prices so they could create higher costs and lose any profits here.’
‘That’s right,’ María said. ‘But this is a brand-new debt and no start-up investment has been made by the smelter that would justify these figures. I’ve already checked.’
‘And?’ The special prosecutor looked at her curiously.
‘I have reason to believe that a certain Agla Margeirsdóttir is behind the creation of this so-called loan, in collaboration with Ingimar Magnússon.’
María placed Agla’s phone-call list on the desk in front of the special prosecutor.
He cleared his throat. ‘Weren’t you interviewing someone this morning who’s potentially involved in the market-manipulation case? How’s that connected with this smelter business?’
‘It doesn’t link to it; or rather, it does, but indirectly. Agla Margeirsdóttir is connected to both cases. We need to keep her separate from all this for the moment, but we should have enough to justify taking a close look at Ingimar Magnússon.’
Trap Page 21