Far North - Michael Ridpath [48]
‘Can’t say I blame them,’ said Piper. ‘Lister got the elbow over the summer, but the Prime Minister is still there.’
‘Anyway, let’s take a look at your list.’
Back in the Violent Crimes unit, Magnus introduced Piper to Árni and Vigdís. Vigdís deigned to say ‘good afternoon’ in English.
‘So, Sharon, how do you like Iceland?’ Árni asked her, a look of eager anticipation on his face.
‘Er, windy,’ said Piper. ‘I haven’t really seen very much of it yet. I’d like to see a tree.’
Vigdís rolled her eyes. There was a famous moment in Icelandic folklore when an over-eager reporter had asked Ringo Starr that very question as he was getting out of his aeroplane at the Reykjavík City Airport.
Árni could have been that reporter.
‘I don’t think we’ll have time to find you a tree,’ said Árni. ‘Sorry.’
‘Let’s see that list of names,’ Magnus said.
They spent a couple of hours at it. Magnus’s team didn’t cover themselves with glory. He himself had barely heard of any of them. Árni insisted on making bold statements and wild guesses about them that turned out to be wrong. And Vigdís, who knew her way around the police files and seemed to recognize most of them, insisted on having everything translated into Icelandic.
Magnus had called her on it, he still could not believe that she only spoke Icelandic, to which she simply replied: ‘Jeg taler dansk.’
But nothing leapt out at them beyond the fact that Óskar knew all the most important people in Iceland’s business world, which wasn’t exactly surprising. Piper was clearly disappointed.
‘We’ll take the list to the Special Prosecutor’s office,’ Magnus said. ‘See if they can come up with something.’
The Special Prosecutor into Financial Crimes had an office around the corner from police headquarters. He was a burly, fresh-faced man in his forties with an air of solidity about him. Magnus had read about him. He was the former chief of police of a small town outside Reykjavík. None of the more obvious candidates among the many lawyers in the capital itself could take the job since they were either married or related to the suspects, so the government had looked outside to fill the role. The man they had chosen had zero experience of international fraud, but he did have a good reputation for hard work and integrity.
He was reading from one of a pile of files on his desk. There were several piles more behind him. Electric cables ran between the papers over the floor, connecting up to a mess of computer equipment. The office had a feel of haphazard industry to it.
They spoke in English.
‘Can you tell us something about your investigations into Óskar Gunnarsson?’ Magnus began.
‘Certainly,’ said the Prosecutor. ‘We haven’t narrowed down our focus on to him specifically yet, but we are looking closely at Ódinsbanki, as we are all the other banks.’
‘Fraud?’ Magnus said. ‘Money laundering?’
‘Nothing that straightforward, I’m afraid. It’s more market manipulation: lending money to related companies and individuals to buy shares in the bank.’
‘Is that illegal?’ Piper asked.
The Prosecutor shrugged. ‘That is the big question. It’s certainly wrong, and in many countries it would definitely be against the law. But Iceland doesn’t have very sophisticated securities legislation. It partly depends how many of these transactions were publicly disclosed.’
The Prosecutor picked up a pencil and drummed it on his desk. ‘It’s also how the Icelandic banks managed to grow so big so fast. One investment company borrowed money to invest in another, which borrowed yet more money to invest in a third, which borrowed money to invest in the banks that were lending them