I nodded. ‘But she vanished.’

‘Vanished?’

‘Yes, or just left.’

‘Where? I mean, did she say anything?’

‘Not to me at any rate. She just hopped it.’

‘Perhaps we should have a word with her?’

‘Have fun, if you do. Take fru or frøken Jensen with you.’

‘Frøken,’ Eva Jensen riposted.

‘Anything else up your sleeve, Veum?’

‘His wife. That is, his second wife, Bente Solheim.’

He nodded. ‘Yes, we picked up on that one at the crime scene.’ He flicked through his notes. ‘She got home at three. Alone. In a taxi.’

‘But…’

‘We contacted the taxi driver. He said a man accompanied her to the taxi. She admitted that, but she claimed she didn’t know the man’s name. She said she’d met him by chance and they’d only walked around and chatted.’ He sent me an eloquent look.

‘The perfect alibi, in other words. If the police find this man … and if they weren’t in it together…’149

‘Did you see who she was dancing with, Veum?’

‘Yes. And Jakob Aasen knows who he is. The husband of someone called Gro.’

‘The husband of someone called Gro?’ He made a note. ‘This is beginning to become quite a colourful tale.’

‘Indeed.’ I didn’t say any more.

Vegard Vadheim looked at me meditatively. He was holding a yellow pencil in one hand and raised it to his mouth and chewed it. ‘What were you planning to do now, Veum? Continue looking for Rebecca?’

‘If I do, I think I’d better talk to Jakob first. If he wants me to – and if it’s OK with you – there’s no reason for me not to continue looking for her.’

He nodded slowly. ‘We’d appreciate it if you’d tell us where she is when you find her.’

‘So I shouldn’t ask her to contact you?’

‘For the moment I think we’ll see how things pan out. I mean … How many years ago was it she had an affair with Solheim?’

‘I’m not sure. Four or five.’

‘That hardly warrants us summoning her to an interview – for now.’

‘Well,’ I shrugged.

We sat looking at each other for a moment like two chess-players who are unsure whose move it is.

Then I leaned forward. ‘Great. I’ll tell you if I find anything.’

‘You do that, Veum. You do that.’ He glanced up at Eva Jensen with an arched brow. ‘Anything you’ve omitted to mention, Veum – that I ought to know?’

I pretended to give his question some thought. ‘No, not that I can think of right now. Does this mean I can go?’150

He extended a hand towards the door. ‘You’re a free man, Veum. Pay at reception as you leave.’

‘Only for what I took from the mini-bar, I assume?’

Eva Jensen laughed, a sudden trilled chuckle. We both looked at her. Then I stood up, waved and left.

The corridor was empty. Two rooms down, someone was tapping hesitantly on a typewriter, like a mouth full of bad teeth chomping on tough meat.