‘But shouldn’t you have held open the possibility that Hege Morell was telling the truth when she protested her innocence?’

‘We have supported Hege in every possible way. Naturally, we don’t have an investigative apparatus, and we are bound by the laws of sport to follow a certain protocol in such instances. Which have now led to the case being cleared up.’

‘But surely it wasn’t the NCCSF that cleared …’

‘As I said,’ Bottolf Odda broke in,‘we don’t have anyone employed at the Federation in an investigative role. That would have looked good, wouldn’t it? But we have initiated and followed the necessary procedures to have the charges against Hege Morell withdrawn.’

‘So she’s welcome back into the national team?’

‘Of course.’

Now he was no longer smiling.

The oven pinged from the kitchen. Selma switched off the TV and got to her feet.

The doorbell rang.

‘Wait,’ she shouted as she ran into the kitchen, took the pizza out of the oven and emerged into the hallway again.

Opened the door.

‘Hello,’ Jan Morell said. ‘How are your hands doing?’

He was wearing the same clothes as they’d seen on the TV. He was carrying a slim leather portfolio under his arm.

‘They’re sore. But I’ll survive.’

Selma left the door open and headed back into the living room. Jan Morell followed her. He stopped suddenly when he saw an elderly man in long, grubby underpants sitting in Selma’s living room. On his head the man wore a big hat with earflaps sticking out on either side. The horrible cat was on his lap, glowering at Jan.

‘Meet Einar,’ Selma said casually. ‘Einar Falsen. My best friend. Would you like some pizza?’

‘No thanks. I just came to give you this.’

He pulled off his gloves and pushed them into his pocket. Opened the zip on the portfolio and took out a sheet of paper.

‘A bank remittance for thirteen million kroner,’ he said, handing it to her.

She took the slip of paper.

‘Oh, Christ,’ Einar exclaimed.

‘Thanks,’ Selma said. ‘Couldn’t you just transfer the money, though?’

‘More fun this way,’ he said, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. ‘I wanted to meet you. I’ve cancelled the rest of your debt. You’re free, Selma, free to do whatever you want.’

‘You can have this in exchange,’ Selma said, taking a document from her back pocket. ‘My legal practising certificate. Hege’s case is wrapped up, and among the conditions you set for not reporting me was that I should give this up. Of course, I’ll deal with the formalities. That’s just a piece of paper, after all. But more fun, as you say. Symbolic.’

Jan stared at the certificate.

‘Keep it,’ he said. ‘The bet was about Hege. You saved me as well. Regard the certificate as a bonus.’