‘Tomorrow by five,’ he reminded her softly. ‘A certificate. From a psychiatrist or a psychologist. Last chance, Selma.’

‘Understood,’ she answered, with a faint smile, as she opened the door. ‘By five.’

‘And no more gambling?’

She looked him straight in the eye.

‘No. That would break our agreement. Besides, I don’t have any money.’

Her gaze was steady. Open, but not strained.

‘Fine,’ he said tersely, and closed the door behind her.

His phone gave a peep. He took it from his trouser pocket and tapped his way into his mailbox.

Hi Jan. Have you seen Klaus lately? Have tried to contact him for past few days, but no one knows where he is. Want to get some good photos of the old girl before she finally pops her clogs. Let me know if you hear anything. Goggen.

Jan Morell hadn’t seen Klaus for at least six months. They had become increasingly rare, these get-togethers with the boys from Kjelsås. Klaus could be anywhere at all. He was still a bachelor, had no children, and had finally become a world-renowned nature photographer. Last year he’d been in the Caucasus, off the beaten track and with no internet access, for six weeks at a stretch. The results had been published in National Geographic. Now and then he took portraits, but only as a favour to friends. Klaus had been given a bottle of malt whisky in return for the big picture of Katinka and Hege on his office wall.

He was his own man, Klaus, an old-fashioned free spirit, and he was often difficult to pin down. Jan Morell, with far greater problems to contend with, didn’t even bother to answer.

THE DILEMMA

Maggi was so perturbed she couldn’t sleep.

She couldn’t just pretend nothing had happened, that much she knew. Sooner or later Hege would discover that the tube of ointment was no longer in the air vent. If she had been the one who had put it there. It could scarcely have been anyone else – with the best will in the world, Maggi could not imagine that Jan Morell would have any reason to conceal something inside a bathroom he barely ever visited except for the odd time when he changed a light bulb.

It must have been Hege who had tried to stash the tube in there.

It was empty, all used up.

Maybe she was guilty after all.

An accident, surely. A dreadful misunderstanding.

Maggi considered returning the tube and forgetting the whole thing. Attempting to do so, at least. No one apart from Hege and Maggi had any reason at all to open the faulty grate, and what the world didn’t know, certainly couldn’t harm it.

The tube could stay there till the end of time.