Lars didn’t blink, but Selma noticed a tiny movement on one eyelid, the involuntary and for most people imperceptible start of a blink. A quarter of a century’s experience of lies and deception, both her own and that of others, gave her the confirmation she was looking for.

‘What about him?’ he said casually.

‘Sølve Bang sounds like someone of that calibre. Someone who’s not voted into positions that correspond to the situation they actually occupy. And the power they wield.’

Lars Winther folded his arms.

‘I have a feeling I’m being interrogated,’ he said. ‘And I don’t like it.’

‘You’ve made good use of me in the last few days,’ she said, with a smile. ‘And to date you haven’t told me much more than what I’ve been able to read in your newspaper columns.’

He pulled back his shirtsleeve to uncover his watch.

‘I have to go.’

‘Sølve Bang was your source,’ Selma said. ‘He was the one who gave you the result of Haakon’s drugs test.’

Once again that minuscule twitch of his left eye, this time accompanied by an attempt to hide it as he lifted the cup and drank the coffee.

‘Of course you can neither confirm nor deny what I’m saying,’ Selma continued. ‘I don’t want you to, either. What I’m after is your opinion on why he is allowed to carry on like that.’

‘Like what?’

‘Do whatever he likes. Get hold of that kind of information. I learned about the drugs test on Monday, for very special reasons. Extremely few had access to it. Sølve Bang doesn’t hold any position that would allow him to know, but he knew all the same. Why?’

‘I really have to go.’

‘OK.’

He stood up and began to shrug on his quilted jacket. Selma looked up at him without saying anything. Only once he had slung the strap of his shoulder bag over his head did she add: ‘Shame that you’re going to miss out on everything I could have helped you with in the days ahead. Your choice.’

The journalist sighed. Remained on his feet.

‘I have to know what your role is in all this,’ he said seriously. ‘You must be honest with me about what position you hold. I don’t believe in this midlife crisis of yours. If you don’t show me your cards, you can just forget about contacting me again.’

Selma took four seconds to weigh up the situation. She added five more seconds for the sake of appearances.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘Sit down.’

He obeyed without removing his jacket.

‘Off the record,’ she told him. ‘Everything I’m about to say.’ ‘OK.’

‘Say yes.’

‘Yes. Off the record.’