Her expression was confused at first. Then it darkened. She shook my hand and said in a faint voice: ‘Jorunn Tveit.’ Then she went back to her chair behind the typewriter as if to occupy an official position in the tiny room, which otherwise contained little more than a couple of chairs, an old kitchen table, a brown filing cabinet and a telephone. ‘And what would the purpose be of your conversation with Ruth?’

I said circumspectly: ‘Her father has just died, as you probably know.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘Well, that’s why I’m here.’

She sighed heavily. ‘So it’s about the inheritance, is it?’

I nodded and clutched at the straw she offered me. ‘You could say that, yes.’

‘Well, I regret to say … Ruth’s no longer here.’

I looked at her. Her eyes revealed nothing. She could have been a ferry company official informing me that, regrettably, the boat had left, but there was only an hour to wait for the next.

‘Really? Where is she then?’

She shrugged. ‘In Bergen, I assume. She … she’s been restless for a while and I could see there was something brewing inside her. We did what we could to make her stay. The most important consideration is to keep them away from their old haunts.’ She 278had raised her voice and with a furrowed brow looked south, as though that was where Sodom lay. ‘We even managed to get Belinda to come out and talk to her…’

‘What did you say? Which Belinda?’

She stared at me in surprise. ‘Belinda Bruflåt. Apparently she’s some sort of pop singer in Bergen, but she grew up here. Her father’s been the local council rep on our board for several years. She kept – used to keep – in very close contact with Ruth.’

‘Really? Did she come here regularly?’

‘Belinda? Yes. At a more formal institution they might’ve called her an official volunteer friend. For us she had a positive, social function. She got in touch with the residents here, talked their own language, belonged to the same generation – in short, she had a job here. But this time her visit didn’t help. Only two days after she’d been here, Ruth left.’

‘And when was that?’

She checked a calendar hanging on the wall above the typewriter. ‘Hm. At the beginning of last week, I think. I can look it up in her notes, if it’s important.’

I nodded. ‘Thank you very much.’

While she was doing that I caught Laila’s eye. ‘Am I holding you up?’

She gently shook her head. ‘I’m listening. This is good for background material.’

Jorunn Tveit had found the right place in the medical notes. ‘Here it is. It was Monday last week.’

‘Right. Monday. Do you know where she stays in town?’

‘No. When they leave here they’re on their own. Staying here is a hundred per cent voluntary. The sole area we work on is motivation.’

I looked out of the window. ‘What do you do here actually?’279