Depths - By Henning Mankell & Laurie Thompson Page 0,66

in his tunic pocket and studied them. Stefan Dorflinger, born in Siegburg on 12 September 1888. Parents, Karl, regular seaman, bugler, and Elfriede Dorflinger. Signed on as a rating in the gunnery section of the cruiser Weinshorn in November 1912. A number of regular appraisal reports were positive. There was also a photograph of his parents. Karl Dorflinger had a prominent moustache; a friendly seeming, smiling man, but on the stout side. Elfriede Dorflinger was also large, her head seemed to rest on her shoulders with no neck. A bugler and a housewife pictured at a pavement cafe in a park. A shadowy, blurred waitress was walking by in the background with a tray of empty beer glasses. They were holding hands.

He studied the photograph at length. Two fat people holding hands.

He thought about the pictures that existed of him and Kristina Tacker. They used to go to the photographer's studio at least once a year. But there was not a single picture in which they made physical contact with each other, no holding hands, not even a hand on the other's shoulder.

He replaced the documents and picked up his telescope from on top of his rucksack. He opened the door and put the telescope to his eye.

The image was blurred. She had used it.

CHAPTER 99

He was standing with the telescope in his hand when he heard them approaching. He put it down on the ground, closed the door and sat down in the sun, his back resting against the house wall.

They were running. Both of them were out of breath.

'There are people on the ice,' she said.

'Did they see you?'

'Yes.'

'Who are they?'

'Presumably hunters. But you can never be sure.'

He thought for a moment.

'Did they get a good view of you, or just sufficient to see that there were two of you?'

'They are a long way away, in among the little reefs at Händelsöarna.'

The Händelsöarna islands were more than a kilometre away from Halsskär. Unless the hunters had a telescope they couldn't possibly have been able to identify the people they had seen.

'If they come here we can say that it was me and you they saw. Will they be sleeping here?'

'They can build huts on the ice. They all know that I don't allow strange men to sleep in my cottage. Unless there's a storm or they've been in an accident.'

'He'll have to hide himself outside.'

He explained rapidly in German. The deserter seemed to trust him now and did not hesitate when they went out on to the rocks shortly afterwards. Tobiasson-Svartman led him to a crevice big enough for him to curl up in.

'Why are you doing this for me?'

'I would have done the same as you, and I would have hoped to meet somebody who was prepared to give me the same help.'

'I would never have survived if Sara Fredrika hadn't taken care of me.'

The deserter had lain down in the crevice and looked up at him. He had a scarf round his head, and the mad fox's pelt wound round his neck.

'I love her,' he said. 'I shall never forget her. One day when the war is over I shall come back here.'

'Does she know that?'

'We can't talk to each other. But I think she knows.'

Tobiasson-Svartman nodded slowly.

'Yes,' he said. 'I am sure you're right. No doubt she does know.'

He returned to the cottage and explained where the deserter was hiding. She had tied up her hair and was wearing a shawl.

She shrank back when he touched her.

'I promise to help him,' he said. 'But does he want to be helped? I'm afraid that one of these days he'll simply wander off over the ice.'

'Why would he do that?'

'He has been through something that nobody can put up with. It's important that we keep an eye on him. I'll let him come with me when I'm working on the ice. He can be of assistance.'

She stood by the window. 'I remember the first time you came here,' she said. 'I thought you were a man I could never trust. Now I'm ashamed when I recall that.'

'Why did you think you couldn't trust me?'

'I thought you were lustful and up to no good. Now I know I was wrong.'

'Yes,' he said. 'You were wrong.'

'I keep thinking about your dead wife and your dead daughter.'

'That's something we have in common,' he said quietly. 'The dead.'

CHAPTER 100

The men were from the inner archipelago. They carried shotguns and were going to hunt seabirds that were overwintering in the area. They