‘Bloody hell,’ Jan said, still without looking up.

‘In private practice, as a pulmonologist and specialist in internal medicine, assuming he had a public office, a man of his age could rake in double that sum.’

‘Pulmonologist. I could just imagine it, yes. Women?’

‘Not from what I was able to find out in twenty-four hours. Married to a nurse, three children in their twenties. Lives in Smestad in his own childhood home. I can certainly take a closer look at him, but what I can’t find out about romances in twenty-four hours normally isn’t worth knowing.’

At last Jan looked up from the leather documents case.

‘The regrettable thing about you is that you’re so dependent on that fucking computer of yours,’ he said. ‘If you had a network of contacts like Selma Falck has, and the same instinct she has for how this infernal country of ours is screwed together, I wouldn’t need that woman at all.’

‘Thanks,’ the detective replied curtly, unsure whether Jan Morell had paid him a compliment or not.

‘What about Arnulf Selhus?’ Jan asked, extracting the last sheet.

‘This season, Arnulf Selhus hasn’t been on any of the national team’s trips. In all likelihood, he doesn’t usually go either. He learned about the affair in Italy because a new doctor had to be appointed pronto. Although I don’t know for certain, I expect he protested about it. There was no need for any additional doctors, and they’re expensive. I assume Bottolf Odda had to tell him the truth.’

‘Finances?’

‘A bit strained, but fairly tidy. He’s acquired too many children over the years. The eldest is twenty-six, and the youngest only three. Storm Teodor.’

Again a fleeting, restrained smile.

‘Naturally, I’ve not gone in and had a look at the Federation’s finances,’ he went on. ‘That was beyond my remit. However, I’ve looked at Selhus’s own transactions during the past few months. Everything there was above board. Barely keeping his head above water, as I said, but just managing. And then there was maybe one little item.’

‘What was that?’

‘He received a payment from the Federation at the end of November for seventy-five thousand kroner.’

Jan gave him a sharp look.

‘And?’

‘It was paid back six days later.’

‘And?’

‘I assumed therefore that it was a payment made in error. It all went through so quickly that he hasn’t gained any interest to speak of for a sum of that size. It looks a bit like an unauthorized loan of some kind, but as I said …’

‘Six days. Payment in error. Unauthorized loan.’

Jan Morell picked up a black Mont Blanc pen. Tapped it lightly on the leather documents case that he had now closed. The detective felt a certain discomfort at the change in his boss’s face – an angry flush had become visible beneath the perpetual tan. The pulse on the right side of his throat was noticeable and it was far too fast.