Far North - Michael Ridpath [58]
‘I assume you are his mother?’
The woman nodded.
‘Do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions? It’s in relation to the death of Gabríel Örn Bergsson back in January.’
‘Of course, come in,’ the woman said. ‘My name is Aníta. Let me get you some coffee.’
‘Please don’t bother,’ said Magnus.
‘Nonsense. It’s one of the few things I can still do. My husband is playing golf: he won’t be back for hours.’
Magnus took off his shoes and followed Aníta into the kitchen where a pot of coffee was waiting. Agonizingly slowly she poured a cup for him. They sat at the kitchen table.
The woman seemed to be tired out already. Magnus resolved to get through his questions as fast as possible. ‘So Ísak was a student in London last year?’
‘Yes. He came back home for Christmas. And he was very interested in the demonstrations. Although term had started at the LSE he came back just for the opening of Parliament. He said it was a historic moment and he wanted to be there. I suppose he was right.’
‘So he went to the demonstration the day Gabríel Örn was killed?’
‘Yes. His father was furious, of course. He lost his job as a result of the protests.’ Aníta hesitated. ‘You said “was killed”. Didn’t the poor man commit suicide?’
‘Er, that’s what we thought,’ said Magnus. ‘So your son and your husband disagree politically?’
‘You can say that again. Samúel has been a member of the Independence Party since he was eighteen, and Ísak is a committed socialist. They disagree on everything: climate change, the aluminium smelters, Europe, you name it. It’s ironic, really, since they are both so fascinated by politics.’
‘How radical is Ísak?’ Magnus asked.
Aníta paused. ‘That’s an interesting question,’ she said. ‘By today’s standards, I suppose he is radical. I mean most of his friends want to go off and become bankers or go to law school. Or at least wanted to until this year. But Ísak still reads Marx and Lenin, although I don’t think he’s a communist or anything. Compared to my generation he’s just mildly to the left. Iceland has changed, hasn’t it?’
‘It certainly has,’ said Magnus.
‘Perhaps it will change back,’ Aníta said. ‘To the way it was. I hope it does before…’
Magnus was about to say ‘before what?’ when he realized the woman was referring to her cancer. She was growing greyer by the minute in front of him. He would be quick.
‘Did Ísak know a woman by the name of Harpa Einarsdóttir? She used to work at Ódinsbanki?’
‘No, I don’t think so. I suppose he might do, but most of his friends are still at university. Was she the woman he had a fight with in the bar?’
Magnus nodded.
‘No. That was the first time he met her.’ She frowned. ‘I don’t know what he was doing. He had never done anything like that before. He drinks sometimes when he’s out with his friends at weekends, but he never gets into fights. It must have been the excitement of the demonstration.’
‘What about Björn Helgason, a fisherman from Grundarfjördur?’
‘I very much doubt it,’ Aníta said. ‘One or two of his friends from school might have become fishermen, but he never mentioned anyone going to Grundarfjördur.’
And Björn Helgason was probably ten years older than Ísak, Magnus thought. ‘Or Óskar Gunnarsson? The former chairman of Ódinsbanki. He has lived in London for the past year.’
‘The banker who was murdered this week?’
Magnus nodded.
‘But I thought you were asking about the other banker’s suicide? You don’t think Ísak had anything to do with that man’s murder, do you?’
The distress came through strongly in her voice.
‘No,’ said Magnus. ‘No, not at all. I’m just trying to establish connections, that’s all.’
‘Well, the answer to your question is “no”. My son has never mentioned Óskar Gunnarsson.’
Magnus decided it was time to wrap things up. As he was leaving, Aníta, who had been frowning deeply, suddenly brightened. ‘Oh, there is one