‘Varg Veum,’ I said charily. ‘I popped by here on Saturday. May I come in?’

She stepped to the side without a word and led me into the flat. She took small, tripping steps, like a ballet dancer surrounded by fragile scenery.

The sitting room was impersonal and bland: a light-brown parquet floor, dark-brown panels on the walls, beige tassel rugs and a reddish-brown leather three-piece suite. On the walls hung cheap landscapes with Japanese motifs (Mount Fuji and cherry blossom). The only feature that stood out was a large portrait of Elvis Presley, surrounded by the usual family photographs on an oblong bureau with glass doors.

There was total silence in the building.

Bente Solheim looked at me blankly. ‘The kids are at my mother’s. I just need to be on my own for a few days.’

I said tentatively: ‘Yes, it must’ve been quite a shock.’

She nodded.

‘How long had you been married?’

‘Since 1978. Eight years in November.’

‘And you have how many children?’

‘Three. The smallest is only two years old. Olaf Martin.’

‘Of course I knew Johnny well years ago. Was he as he’d always been?’218

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, he’d had a difficult upbringing. Did he have any contact with his mother?’

‘If he did, he would’ve had supernatural powers. His mother died the same winter we got married. In January. Johnny always said she died of relief.’ She smiled wanly. ‘Relief that he’d finally got himself a decent wife.’

‘She hadn’t liked his previous wife then?’

‘No, she … She told me in confidence’ – again the fleeting smile – ‘that they’d had to get married. She’d never forgiven Anita for that. It was her fault of course. Not Johnny’s.’ After a pause she added, thoughtfully. ‘Naturally, it was much worse to have to get married in 1962 than it is today.’

‘Nowadays the concept has disappeared from the language, hasn’t it? People have children and live together and split up, almost, before they marry. If they have a Saturday free. And they can otherwise fit it in.’

‘Yes. At any rate, we didn’t have to. We didn’t have Leif until the October afterwards. He goes to school now. He’s in the first class.’

‘What about Johnny’s father? Did he ever hear from him?’

‘Never. He didn’t talk about him either. Not a word. Do you know what…?’

‘I only remember him vaguely, from when we were small. He was in the habit of beating his wife and children when the mood took him. Johnny had a tough time in that respect.’

She nodded, unable to refrain from touching her cheek and the faint bruising there.

I didn’t pursue the matter. It wasn’t necessary.

‘On Saturday … you were out on the town too, weren’t you?’

She sent me a sharp look, her cheeks aflame. ‘What do you mean?’219

I smiled disarmingly. ‘I saw you. I was there too. The wig suited you.’

Her face was still as taut. ‘You mustn’t think that I … The police have probably … I had nothing to do with that.’