‘Exactly. And when this comes on top of now having two really nasty cases of drug-taking, in addition to that asthma medication affair, wouldn’t you normally think that Bottolf Odda’s coat is hanging on a shaky peg?’

He chose to answer himself: ‘You would guess so. But believe you me, when the cross-country skiing conference is held at the beginning of June, Bottolf Odda will go to the speaker’s rostrum and say a few well-chosen, reassuring words about everything painful and difficult. Then he’ll spend a lot of time talking about the huge successes on the ski trails, after which he’ll be voted in again by acclamation without any opposing candidate. Believe you me.’

‘Unless we’re disqualified from the Winter Olympics.’

Lars nodded.

‘Unless we’re disqualified from the Winter Olympics,’ he agreed. ‘But we won’t be, no matter what happens in the cases of Hege and Haakon.’

‘No?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because the IOC is a spineless organization, rotten through and through,’ he said, taking a slug of coffee. ‘They won’t exclude the cash cow. That would spoil the whole cattle show.’

Selma felt she needed the toilet, but didn’t dare interrupt him. One thought had struck her. She tried to push it aside until she had time to examine it more closely.

‘Do you mean that Bottolf Odda scares people?’

‘Not the boo-scaring kind.’

Lars raised his hands and scrabbled in the air like a wild animal.

‘More sort of … network-scaring. The old boys club, as some say, and get smirked at. But they’re right. It’s all about the old boys, whether it’s women or men involved. You know … it’s social bonds. They travel together. They come to decisions together. You can call it whatever you like, but it’s all about decisions being made in back rooms. Outside the democratically chosen agencies. Beyond the rules and procedures. Someone has decided that Bottolf Odda should continue as president. And so he does. Unopposed. It’s …’

He drew a big ring around the coffee cup.

‘As I said, it’s about making sure you’re on the inside. Those who are in the inner circle have to make sure they don’t rock the boat. Be nice. Do as they’re asked. Or else …’

He pulled the cup to the very edge of the table.

‘Loyalty, that’s what they call it in fancy speeches. Cowardice would sometimes be a more suitable word. But what’s the basis for this sabotage theory?’

‘Nothing, in the meantime.’

But …’

‘You have my word that you’ll be the first to know. If there’s anything to know.’

Her earlier thought refused to budge.

‘Instead, give me a bit of help here,’ she said. ‘On Saturday, when that colleague of yours dropped a hint that there might be good reason to check whether Haakon had been drugged when he died …’

Lars Winther covered his eyes with his hand.