had been gone for six months, but Wallander had still not grown used to the new receptionist. She was a woman in her thirties, named Irene. She had been an administrative assistant in a doctor's office, and was already well liked at the police station. But Wallander missed Ebba.
"I need some gum," Wallander said. "Do you know anyone who would have any?"
"Yes," Irene said. "Me."
Wallander hung up and walked out to the reception.
"Is it for the girl?" Irene said.
"Fast thinker."
He returned to the examination room, gave Sonja Hökberg the stick of gum and realised he had forgotten to turn off the tape recorder through all of this.
"Let's begin," he said. "It's 4.15 p.m. on October 6, 1997. Kurt Wallander is questioning Sonja Hökberg."
"So do I have to tell you everything all over again?" she said.
"Yes, try to speak clearly and direct your words at the microphone."
"What about the fact that I've said it all already?"
"I may have some more questions."
"I don't feel like going over it again."
For a moment Wallander was thrown by her total lack of anxiety.
"Unfortunately you'll just have to cooperate," he said. "You have been accused of a very serious crime, and what's more you have confessed. Right now you stand accused of assault in the third degree, but this serious charge may be upgraded if the taxi driver's condition deteriorates any further."
Lötberg gave Wallander a disapproving look but said nothing.
Wallander started at the beginning. "Your name is Sonja Hökberg, and you were born on February 2, 1978."
"That makes me an Aquarius. What's your sign?"
"That doesn't concern us at present. You're here to answer my questions and that is all. Understand?"
"Do I look stupid?"
"You live with your parents on 12 Trastvägen, here in Ystad."
"Yes."
"You have a younger brother Emil, born in 1982."
"He's the one who should be sitting in this chair, not me."
Wallander raised his eyebrows. "Why do you say that?"
"He never leaves my things alone. He's always looking through my stuff. We fight a lot."
"I'm sure it can be trying to have a younger brother, but let's leave it for now."
She's still so composed, Wallander thought. Her nonchalance was beginning to irritate him.
"Can you describe the events of last Tuesday evening?"
"It's such a drag to have to go over the same thing twice."
"That can't be helped. You and Eva Persson went out that evening?"
"There's nothing to do around here. I wish I lived in Moscow."
Wallander regarded her with surprise. Even Lötberg seemed startled.
"Why Moscow?"
"I just saw somewhere that exciting things often happen there. Have you ever been to Moscow?"
"No. Just answer my questions. So, you went out that night."
"You already know that."
"Were you and Eva good friends?"
"Why else would we have gone out together? Do I look like the kind of person who would go out with people I didn't like?"
For the first time Wallander thought he could detect a note of emotion in her voice. Impatience.
"How long have you known each other?"
"Not very long."
"How long?"
"A few years."
"She's five years younger than you."
"She looks up to me."
"What do you mean by that?"
"She's told me so herself. She looks up to me."
"Why is that?"
"You'll have to ask her yourself."
I will, Wallander thought. I have a lot of things to ask her. "Can you tell me what happened that night?"
"Jesus Christ!"
"You must, whether you want to or not. We can stay here all night if we have to."
"We had a beer."
"Even though Eva Persson is only 14?"
"She looks older."
"Then what happened?"
"We ordered another beer."
"And after that?"
"We called a taxi. But you know all this. Why do you keep asking?"
"Had you already decided to attack this taxi driver?"
"We needed the money."
"For what?"
"Nothing in particular."
"Let me see if I have this straight: you needed money, but not for anything in particular."
"Right."
No, that's not right, Wallander thought. He had detected a shade of insecurity in her answer. He grew more attentive.
"Normally, when you need money it is for something in particular."
"Not in our case."
Oh yes, it was, Wallander thought. But he decided to leave the matter for now.
"How did you come up with the idea of robbing a taxi driver?"
"We talked about it."
"At the restaurant?"
"Yes."
"So you hadn't talked about it earlier?"
"Why would we have done that?"
Lötberg was staring down at his hands.
"Would it be correct to say that you had no intention of assaulting the taxi driver before you went to the restaurant? Whose idea was it?"
"It was mine."
"Eva had no objections?"
"No."
This doesn't hang together, Wallander thought. She's lying, but she's remarkably calm.
"You ordered the taxi from the restaurant, then waited