Depths - By Henning Mankell & Laurie Thompson Page 0,76

even hint at the fact that I'm on a mission.'

'If you're not here, surely I have to say something?'

'You can say that I'm on leave, indisposed, that I'm in a convalescent home.'

She squeezed his hand. 'I want you here.'

I don't want to be here, he thought, and had to force himself not to push her hand away. I don't want to be here, I'm afraid of the baby, of these rooms, of all the china figurines and their dead eyes.

I love you, but I don't want to be here. I love your fragrance, but I dread the day when it's no longer there. I'm scared of waking up out of a dream without knowing what it meant.

He stroked her hand gently.

'I'll soon be back, and above all our child will have a father who used the nine months of waiting to gain promotion.'

'That is a worthy cause.'

He could sense her expectation.

'That's also a secret.'

'Surely you can tell me.'

He leaned over, put his face next to hers and whispered: 'I'm to be made a captain.'

He enjoyed the taste of the words, and smiled.

'I'm so pleased to hear that. It will make my father happy.'

'It's essential that this remains between you and me. You mustn't say a word to him.'

He carried on telling her patiently how he would soon be back. There was no danger, he would simply be doing his duty.

'Nothing is more important than the baby,' he said. 'I must do my duty, but the baby is the most important thing.'

'I want our son to be called Ludwig, after my father. If it's a daughter, I'd like her to be called Laura. After my sister. I always wanted to be called Laura when I was a child.'

He kept on smiling.

'Ludwig is an attractive name and has a touch of strength about it. Of course our son should be called Ludwig.'

'Maybe he should be called Hans Ludwig?'

'On no account should he have my father's name.'

'When will you be leaving?'

I have already left, he thought. I am not here, it's only an aura that I have left behind. A spoor that will be washed away.

'Soon,' he said. 'I don't know exactly when, but soon. I must be with you when the time comes, of course.'

He was sitting by her side, holding her hand.

It felt warmer now, not so cold as it had been.

CHAPTER 119

Three days later he collected a letter from Skeppsholmen.

The board stated their view in great detail that Commander Lars Svartman had always carried out his duties with the utmost care and competence. The board therefore considered it appropriate that Svartman should be granted the leave he had requested. The precise date of his return to duty would be established in due course.

After his visit to Skeppsholmen he went for a long walk in Djurgården. He wiped the snow off one of the benches as far out on the promontory as you could get at Blockhusudden. A tug was labouring to keep the channel free of ice.

He thought about Kristina Tacker and the child that was on its way, but most of all he thought about the woman he had decided never to see again.

He remained sitting on the bench until he started to feel cold. The tug was still carving its passage to the sea. The ice was dirty, grey. He worked out the distance to the stern of the tug. When it reached the hundred-metre mark, he stood up and started to walk back towards the city centre.

CHAPTER 120

He stopped at the entrance to Handelsbanken in Kungsträdgården. He was surprised not to feel uneasy about his plan to make inroads into his capital. Hitherto he had always regarded himself as being thrifty, on the borderline of being miserly. Now he felt the need to start squandering money.

He entered the bank. The man who looked after his financial affairs, Håkansson, was engaged. He was received by a clerk and invited to wait.

He observed the people moving around inside the bank. They seemed to be deep down under the surface of the sea, with none of the noise they made rising to the surface. He held his breath for twenty seconds and allowed himself to sink down to the bottom of the bank. I'm playing, he thought. I'm playing with other people's depths.

Håkansson had flickering eyes and sweaty hands. Tobiasson-Svartman followed him up some stairs to a room whose door closed silently behind them.

'The war is worrying, of course,' said Håkansson. 'But thus far the stock exchange has reacted favourably