Where the Shadows Lie (Fire and Ice)

cheek.
    ‘Hang on a moment,’ said the man. ‘Let me get myself a coffee. Do you want another?’
    Ingileif shook her head and her companion went up to the counter to order a double espresso. His features were very familiar to Ingileif: the round glasses, the buck teeth, the bulging cheeks, the thinning brushed-back mousy hair. Partly, it was true, this familiarity was from seeing him once a week on TV, but it was also the result of a childhood spent together.
    He returned to her table. ‘How’s things?’ he said. ‘I went into your gallery the other day. I missed you, but you have some lovely stuff. It must sell well.’
    ‘It does,’ said Ingileif.
    ‘But?’ Tómas had noticed the doubt in her voice. He was perceptive like that.
    ‘Too well,’ Ingileif admitted. ‘Our biggest customer went bust last month and they owe us a lot of money.’
    ‘And the bank isn’t being much help?’
    ‘You’re right there. A couple of years ago they were throwing money at us, and now they can’t get it back fast enough. They gave us one of those foreign currency loans that just keeps on growing.’
    ‘Well, good luck with that,’ said Tómas. ‘I’m sure you will thrive.’
    ‘Thank you,’ Ingileif smiled. ‘How about you? Your show seems to be going very well. I love the way you skewered the British Ambassador last week.’
    Tómas smiled broadly, his cheeks bunching up like a squirrel’s. ‘He deserved it. I mean, using anti-terrorist legislation to grab our country’s biggest bank. It was bullying, pure and simple. How would the British like it if the Americans did the same thing to them?’
    ‘And that banker the week before. The one who paid himself a four-million-dollar bonus three months before his bank went bust.’
    ‘At least he had the grace to come back to Iceland to face the music,’ Tómas said. ‘But that’s the problem, you see. I won’t get any more bankers on the show for a while, or ambassadors for that matter. I have to tread a fine line between being disrespectful to please the viewers and not being too aggressive so that I scare the guests away.’
    He sipped his espresso. Fame suited him, Ingileif thought. She had always liked him, he had a warm approachable sense of humour, but he used to be a bit shy, lacking in self-confidence. Now he was a household name, some of that shyness had disappeared. Not all of it though. That remained part of his charm.
    ‘You heard about Agnar Haraldsson?’ Tómas asked, peering at Ingileif closely through his glasses.
    ‘Yes,’ she said simply.
    ‘I remember you and he had a bit of a thing going.’
    ‘We did,’ Ingileif admitted. ‘Big mistake. Actually, it was probably only a little mistake, but a mistake none the less.’
    ‘It must have been a bit of a shock? His death. I mean I was shocked and I scarcely knew the guy.’
    ‘Yes,’ said Ingileif, her voice suddenly hoarse. ‘Yes, it was.’
    ‘Have the police been in touch?’
    ‘Why should they be?’ Ingileif asked. She could feel herself reddening.
    ‘It’s a big case. A big investigation. They have, haven’t they?’
    Ingileif nodded.
    ‘Are they getting anywhere? Hasn’t there been an arrest?’
    ‘Yes. An Englishman. They think he was involved in some dodgy deal with Agnar. But I don’t think they have much evidence to prove it.’
    ‘Had you seen him recently?’
    Ingileif nodded again. Then when she saw Tómas’s raised eyebrows, she protested. ‘No, not that. He’s married, and he’s sleazy. I have better taste than that.’
    ‘I’m glad to hear it,’ said Tómas. ‘You’re way out of his league.’
    ‘That’s so kind of you to say,’ said Ingileif with mock politeness.
    ‘So what were you talking to him about?’
    For a second Ingileif considered telling Tómas all about the saga. It would all come out in the open soon anyway, and Tómas was such an old friend. But only for a second. ‘Why do you want to know?’
    ‘I’m curious. It’s been all over the papers.’
    ‘It’s not for your show, is it?’
    ‘Good God, no.’ Tómas saw his denial wasn’t strong enough. ‘I promise. Look, I’m sorry if I have been too direct with my questions. It’s become a habit.’
    ‘It must have,’ said Ingileif. Tómas had always had the ability to get people to confide in him. He seemed harmless and he seemed interested. But something told Ingileif to be careful. ‘Just a social call,’ she said. ‘Like this.’
    Tómas smiled. ‘Look, I have