Firewall - By Henning Mankell & Ebba Segerberg Page 0,10

then strike when he had the cash."

"That occurred to me as well, of course, but the last time he made a withdrawal was on Saturday, and that wasn't even a large sum of money."

Martinsson handed Wallander a plastic bag with a blood-spattered bank receipt. The time on it said 12.02 a.m. He handed it back to Martinsson.

"What does Nyberg say?"

"That nothing apart from the head wound points to a crime. He probably had a heart attack."

"Perhaps he had been expecting to see a higher figure than the one he found on the printout," Wallander said, thoughtfully.

"Why do you say that?"

Wallander wondered too. He stood up. "Let's wait for the autopsy report. Until then we'll assume no crime has been committed, so put it aside for now."

Martinsson gathered up his papers. "I'll contact the lawyer who was assigned to Hökberg. I'll let you know when he can be expected here so you can talk to her."

"Not that I want to," Wallander said. "But I suppose I should."

Martinsson left and Wallander walked to the toilets. He should be grateful at least that his days of constantly urinating due to elevated blood sugar were over.

For an hour he kept working on the contraband cigarettes case, while the thought of the favour he had agreed to do for Höglund nagged at the back of his mind.

At 4.02 p.m. Martinsson telephoned to say that Hökberg and her lawyer were ready.

"Who is he?" Wallander said.

"Herman Lötberg."

Wallander knew him. He was one of the older ones, and easy to work with. "I'll be there in five minutes," Wallander said, and hung up.

He walked back to the window. The wind had picked up and the blackbirds were gone. He thought about Mrs Fredman and the boy, playing quietly on the floor. He thought about his frightened eyes. He shook his head and thought instead of the questions he was going to ask the Hökberg girl. Martinsson's notes told him that she was the one in the back seat who had hit Lundberg on the head with a hammer. Many blows, not just one. As if she had been in a blind rage.

Wallander picked up a notebook and pen and left. Halfway there he realised that he had left his glasses behind. He went back.

There's really only one question, he thought as he returned to the conference room. Why did they do it? Their saying they needed money isn't enough. There's another answer somewhere, a deeper answer that I have to find.

CHAPTER FOUR

Sonja Hökberg did not look as Wallander had expected her to look. Afterwards he couldn't recall exactly what he had been expecting, but he knew it wasn't the person he had met in that room. Sonja Hökberg was sitting down when he came in. She was small and thin, almost to the point of transparency. She had shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes. She could have been a model on a poster for innocence and purity. Nothing indicated that she was a crazed hammer-wielding murderess.

Wallander had been met by her lawyer and Martinsson outside the room.

"She's very much in control of herself," Lötberg said to Wallander. "I'm not sure she understands the gravity of the charges she's facing."

"It's not a matter of accusation. She's guilty," Martinsson said, firmly.

"What about the hammer?" Wallander said. "Have we found it?"

"She put it under her bed. She hadn't even tried to wipe off the blood. The other girl got rid of her knife. We're still searching for it," Martinsson said, and left.

Wallander walked into the room with the lawyer. The girl looked at them expectantly. She didn't seem at all nervous. Wallander nodded in acknowledgement and sat down. There was a tape recorder on the table. Wallander looked at her for a long time. She looked back at him.

"Do you have any gum?" she said, at last.

Wallander shook his head and looked at Lötberg, who also shook his head.

"We'll see if we can't get you some later," Wallander said, and turned on the tape recorder. "First we're going to have a little chat."

"I've already said what happened. Why can't I have some gum? I can pay for it," she said, and held up a black handbag with an oak-leaf clasp. Wallander was surprised it hadn't been confiscated. "I won't talk until I get my gum."

Wallander reached over for the phone and called the reception desk. Ebba will take care of this, he thought. Only when an unfamiliar voice came on the line did he remember that Ebba was retired now. She