‘How much did you buy?’ asked Árni.
‘A lot,’ Eggert replied. He took a deep breath and lowered his voice, possibly so his wife in the kitchen couldn’t hear. ‘Three million.’
‘Dollars?’ said Magnus, raising his eyebrows.
Eggert laughed. ‘No. Where would I get that kind of money? Krónur. That’s, what, twenty thousand dollars? That’s a lot of money, don’t you agree? I mean, Thomocoin sounds like a good investment, but it’s clearly risky. My investment’s worth nearly sixty thousand dollars now, according to the latest price. So it’s done well.’
There was something about Eggert which reminded Magnus of his niece, Dísa. It wasn’t just the lanky awkwardness and the brown hair; it was also the shy intelligence.
‘Do you have any concerns about it?’ Magnus asked.
‘Thomocoin?’ Eggert paused. ‘Well, it sounds like a good idea to me. Digital currency must be the future, and the blockchain must be the way to go. But they promised there would be an exchange where investors could sell their Thomocoin for real money and that hasn’t happened yet. That’s got to be a question mark.’
‘Did you talk to your sister about the exchange, or lack of it?’
‘Oh yes. Last time was about three weeks ago.’
‘And did she seem concerned?’
Eggert hesitated. ‘Not exactly. But she seemed less confident than she had been.’
‘Did that worry you?’
‘No. I was pleased. I hoped she’d find out what was going on. Why? Should I be worried?’
Magnus didn’t answer that one. ‘Did you ever meet a man called Skarphédinn Gíslason?’
‘Sharp? He’s the CEO of Thomocoin. I knew him when I was working in Reykjavík many years ago, but not since then. I’ve seen him on Thomocoin videos. Impressive guy. He used to work with Helga’s ex-husband Ómar at a bank.’
‘Do you know Ómar?’
‘I did. Back when they were married. I went to their wedding, of course, and I used to go and see him and Helga sometimes when I lived in Reykjavík. He acted the hot-shot banker in those days. But then he went to jail and they got divorced. Now he’s a dumpy bald guy with a dodgy tattoo on his neck. Sad, really.’
‘Were you and your sister close?’ Magnus asked.
‘Not super-close,’ said Eggert. ‘We’re very different people. Although she went into medicine, she always loved the farm. Whereas I hated it.’
‘Why?’
Eggert ran his fingers through his sparse brown hair. ‘When I was about twelve I realized that I would have to spend the rest of my life working on that farm where my father had been born and his father and his father, going outside on freezing winter mornings to wade around in sheep shit. I had no choice, or so my father wanted me to believe. I didn’t like that.
‘And, eventually, I summoned up the courage to tell him. He wasn’t happy. He talked about centuries of inheritance coming to an end. I told him I just didn’t care. We didn’t speak for years, although we get on better now Helga lives at the farm.’ He stopped himself. Looked down at his hands. ‘Lived.’
He looked up and laughed ruefully. ‘I wanted to see the world and make my fortune. I went to university in Reykjavík and spent a year at college in California studying engineering, so that was something, I suppose. Then I got involved in the whole dot-com thing and tried a start-up in Reykjavík. That’s where I met Sharp — Ómar introduced him to me. At one point I thought we were going to hit the big time, but the crash came and it didn’t get anywhere, so I work for the town council now. Recycling. And I only live forty kilometres from Blábrekka. It’s a pretty dull life, but I like it. It’s my choice.’
‘I see,’ said Magnus.
‘So I was pleased when Helga came back to Blábrekka from Reykjavík after the kreppa. It took some of the pressure off me. That’s when Dad and I started talking again. And they have Anna Rós lined up to take over the farm eventually.’
‘Are you happy with that?’ asked Magnus.
‘Why shouldn’t I be?’
‘Well, it’s a large farm. It must be worth a lot.’
‘From what I understand, it has an even larger mortgage. Blábrekka is a liability, not an asset.’
‘Did Helga say anything to you about bailing it out?’
‘Yes, she did. She asked me to help out a few years ago, but I said sorry. I mean, the idea of me bailing out Blábrekka is ludicrous.’
‘Was she upset when you refused?’
‘She said she was, but I didn’t believe her. She always knew there was no chance. And then Dísa did some bitcoin trading or something, and suddenly this Thomocoin appeared. Helga said she would use that to save the place.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he muttered.
Magnus raised his eyebrows. ‘You don’t know what?’
‘I mean, she made a fortune with her daughter’s help,’ Eggert said. ‘And now the farm is going to swallow it up. That farm will swallow us all up in the end. She should have kept the Thomocoin. For herself.’
‘Did you tell her that?’
‘I did,’ said Eggert. ‘She wasn’t having any of it.’
‘Do you know how much Thomocoin she had?’
‘No idea. But it must have been a lot if she was going to pay off the bank. She always acted like it was a lot, but I never asked her.’
Magnus wrapped the interview up. ‘Thank you, Eggert,’ he said. He handed Eggert his card. ‘If you do think of anything else that might be useful, give me a call.’
Eggert held the card and stared at it. He was thinking.
Long experience had taught Magnus that when witnesses stared at his card like that they had something else to say.
Árni got to his feet, but Magnus stayed seated.
He waited.
Eggert glanced up from the card, indecision written all over his face.
Magnus smiled gently.
Eggert looked up at the ceiling. ‘My sister told me something once. In confidence. I’ve never told anyone,’ he said. ‘Not even Karen.’
He nodded towards the kitchen where a fan was whirring in a vain attempt to keep the smell of the lamb under control.
‘If I tell you, can you keep it to yourselves?’
‘Probably not, Eggert,’ said Magnus softly. ‘At least not if it’s relevant. But if it is relevant, if it helps us solve your sister’s murder, then you should definitely tell us. Shouldn’t you?’
Eggert took a deep breath and nodded.
‘It was a few years ago,’ he said in a low voice. ‘Maybe 2015? Or 2016? Helga came to see me; she was really upset. It turned out she was having an affair. With a married man, who lived in Dalvík. She had given the man an ultimatum to leave his wife or Helga would finish things between them. The man had called her bluff. She wanted to know whether she should call it off, or just accept the situation.’
‘And what did you say?’
‘I didn’t know what to say,’ said Eggert. ‘I more or less said it was her choice.’
‘Did she leave him?’
‘She said she did when I saw her later. Or at least she said it was over. I don’t know which one of them ended it; I suppose it may have been him.’
‘Was it usual for her to discuss that kind of thing with you?’ Magnus asked.
‘No. I’d asked her about boyfriends once or twice since she split up with Ómar and she hadn’t volunteered anything. But it was clear she needed to talk to someone, and I think she may have thought I had guessed they were up to something.’
‘Why was that?’
‘I’d seen them together many years before when she was still living in Reykjavík, holding hands.’
‘That was a bit of a giveaway, wasn’t it?’