Hege got to her feet.

‘I can’t bring myself to lie, Dad. I’m no good at it, anyway. We should instead find out who put that tube in my luggage. If we find the person concerned, then we find the saboteur. He or she has somehow …’

‘You let me take care of all this. As far as you’re concerned, none of this ever happened.’

‘No. I refuse to lie. The girls in the team will believe me. They know I’m not guilty. They’ve been sending me text messages. Hedda phoned me today. They’re supporting me, Dad, they …’

‘The girls in the team? The girls in the team?’

Again that darkness in his eyes.

‘Do you think it’s the girls in the team who’ll decide this case? Do you think Hedda Bruun has anything whatsoever to say about it? That she can do anything about the tribunal’s handling of the case? Does Hedda sit on the panel of judges? Or on the CAS, if it should go that far?’

He was quite literally tearing out his hair.

‘Athletes should just perform, Hege. You know that. The system only functions if you fall into line, do as expected and win medals. You get drummed into you words such as ‘winner culture’, ‘solidarity’ and ‘community solutions’, to prevent the most precious of you from stealing most of the cake for yourselves. But those thoughts go only one way, Hege. They should go both ways. Because where are those boys now? Where are Bottolf and his gang now that you’ve been hung out to dry? Where’s their solidarity now? If it gets out that you’ve been walking around with a tube …’

‘I’m not going to lie,’ Hege broke in.

She padded towards the kitchen. She took hold of Maggi’s hand on the way and pulled her along. The door slid open.

‘Then Maggi’s days here with us are numbered,’ she heard behind her.

Sudden stop.

‘Maggi is fired,’ Jan Morell said. ‘Now. As of today.’

‘You don’t mean that, Dad. You just can’t do that.’

‘Yes, I can. I want both your and Maggi’s word that you’ll forget this whole thing. That bloody tube has never existed. If you don’t go along with that, then Maggi can start packing.’

Hege still stood with her back to her father. Maggi’s hand, frail and warm, was held in hers.

‘Dad …’

‘Yes or no?’

Maggi released her hand. Tenderly caressed Hege’s cheek. She smiled, as if everything was fine and nothing terrible had happened.

‘I can go,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll manage. I’ve saved up …’

‘OK,’ Hege said in a loud voice. ‘Maggi stays. You have my word of honour.’

She turned around abruptly and took three steps towards her father.

‘But soon that’s all you’ll have.’

THE MANUSCRIPT

501 INTERIOR, TOILET CUBICLE, DAYTIME