‘One in a hundred,’ she finally said. ‘Two in a hundred. Somewhere in that area. If you’re not one hundred per cent truthful and specific when you’re talking to me, then we’re closer to one in a million. Those are extremely high odds. Which means bad odds, for everyone except for the bookmaker.’

She paused. A thought had crossed her mind. Hege had at last left her sweater in peace. Now the young woman was picking at her watch, an Omega Constellation with mother-of-pearl face and diamonds instead of numbers.

‘Naturally, I have a professional duty of confidentiality,’ Selma said, fixing her eyes on Jan Morell. ‘As a lawyer, I have that. Even if Hege is going to use Hjorth & Co for the legal part of the case, it’s best if we decide here and now that I’m also her lawyer. With a different mandate. Don’t you think, Jan?’

For some reason the man was always suntanned. Now, however, a distinct blush suffused his cheekbones, and his jaw muscles were taut.

‘Don’t you think?’ Selma repeated. ‘It’s best that I’m Hege’s lawyer, if not in fact then at least in name? That protects us both.’

‘OK,’ he said softly, after a pause so long that Hege seemed non-plussed. ‘For as long as you remain a lawyer.’

The blush had spread to his neck.

Maggi entered from the kitchen, carrying a tray with three mugs, a teapot and a plate of chocolate biscuits that looked home-baked.

‘It’s too late for coffee,’ she said with an obvious accent. ‘But maybe something to warm you up?’

She placed the things on the table, tucked the tray under her arm and disappeared just as noiselessly as she had come. The sliding door into the kitchen closed with an almost inaudible swish, almost like the doors on the USS Enterprise. Selma caught herself wondering if it was motorized. In all honesty, this was a remarkable house, but the bet had already started to pay dividends. In the meantime, it would be unnecessary for her to hand in her licence to practise law.

One-nil to her.

‘Let’s begin with the active ingredient,’ she said in a loud voice, grasping her mug with both hands. ‘Clostebol. Do you have any knowledge of it at all?’

‘Yes. It’s a steroid. A synthetic anabolic-androgenic steroid. Also known as 4-chlorotestosterone, since it’s the 4-chloro derivative of the natural hormone testosterone. Used especially by athletes from the old Eastern Europe. Clostebol has been on the World Anti-Doping Agency’s list for ages.’

‘Yes, that’s right. And you say you haven’t gone on that course?’

Selma thought she noticed a hint of embarrassment in Hege. A double blink of the eyes, and a forefinger drawn quickly down her nose.

‘One of its uses is in a cream you can buy in Italy,’ the young woman said, her voice louder now. ‘For cold sores. Well, probably for lots of other things too, but certainly for cold sores.’

‘What?’