There were many internet sites she often visited, but she mainly restricted herself to currency, shares, British betting and online poker. If she had understood Jan Morell correctly, he was still monitoring her data use. If he wouldn’t exactly do anything illegal, such as getting someone to hack into her computer, he might turn up at any point and demand to check her data log. Even though she could delete it on an ongoing basis, he might well bring a computer expert with him who would take only two minutes to reveal which websites she had visited.

Jan Morell was the one who sat with all the cards.

She should really go to bed. It was almost midnight, and she was exhausted by her uneven sleeping pattern in the past few days. The agitation in her body, the little tics along her neck and in her right arm – she knew they would only worsen in the days ahead.

Selma was far from being a compulsive gambler, as Jan claimed. She just liked to gamble, and had always kept everything under control. For a very long time, at least for many years, she had been able to live a successful life in every respect without anyone discovering what she was up to when no one was looking. She was skilful, but also careful, in her opinion. That was the key to success, and she had made a profit in most years. Or at least broken even. More or less, she didn’t calculate down to the nth degree. On Ormøya she had her own computer for that sort of purpose, concealed in the basement amongst old sports equipment no one used, but which Jesso nonetheless was too mean to give away to a jumble sale. Days could pass between the times she unearthed it, sometimes even weeks.

She couldn’t possibly be a gambling addict.

In the first week after Jan Morell had exposed the discrepancy, after Jesso got to know and she really didn’t have anywhere to live, she had checked health service websites. Sitting in her office after everyone else had gone for the evening, she had quickly concluded that the diagnosis couldn’t apply to her.

For instance, she certainly didn’t isolate herself. On the contrary, she lived an outgoing life and very rarely turned down an invitation. During the filming of the many TV programmes she had participated in, she never once went near a gambling site. The competition was enough in itself. It gave her a thrill while it was on the go, and the peace and quiet she needed when it was over.

The peace and quiet only lasted so long.

Darius had caught yet another mouse.

This time he had at least killed it. And then dropped it on the doormat. Selma fetched a carrier bag, twisted it inside out with her hand inside, picked up the mouse and buried it at the bottom of the rubbish bin.

The worst thing had been quitting her job.