Firewall - By Henning Mankell & Ebba Segerberg Page 0,20
worry about his own reputation at times like these.
"These things are not supposed to happen," Wallander said. "But they do. What matters is to track her down. Then we'll have to go over our security procedures and work out who's responsible for what went wrong in this case."
"Do you think there's a danger of more violence?"
Wallander thought for a moment. He saw an image of Hökberg's room, the stuffed animals sitting all in a row.
"We don't know enough about her at this point," he said. "But you couldn't rule it out."
Martinsson put the phone down.
"That was her mother," he said. "And I've talked to our colleagues in Höör. They know what to do."
"I'm not sure any of us knows that," Wallander said. "But I want that girl picked up as soon as possible."
"Was the escape planned?" Holgersson said.
"Not according to the officer in charge," Martinsson said. "I think she took advantage of the situation."
"Oh, it was planned," Wallander said. "She was waiting for the right moment, that's all. She wanted to get away from here. Has anyone spoken to her lawyer? Could he be of any help?"
"I doubt if anyone's thought of that yet," Martinsson said. "He left the station when he had finished talking to her."
Wallander got up. "I'll speak to him."
"What about the press conference?" Holgersson said. "What should we do about that?"
Wallander looked at his watch. It was 11.20 a.m.
"We'll do it as planned and we'll have to tell them what's happened, even if we would rather not."
"I suppose I should be there," Holgersson said.
Wallander didn't answer. He went back to his office, his head throbbing. Every time he had to swallow it hurt.
I should be in bed, he thought. Not running around after teenage girls who murder taxi drivers.
He found some tissues in a desk drawer and dabbed himself down as well as he could. He had a temperature and was sweating profusely. He called Hökberg's lawyer.
"This is unexpected," Lötberg said when Wallander had finished.
"What this is is a problem," Wallander said. "Do you have any information that might help us?"
"I don't think so. It was hard to make a connection with her. She seemed very calm on the surface, but as to what was going on underneath I have no idea."
"Did she mention a boyfriend? Anyone she wanted to see?"
"No."
"No-one?"
"She asked about Persson."
Wallander paused. "She didn't ask about her parents?"
"As a matter of fact, no."
This struck Wallander as odd, like the impression her room had given him. The feeling was growing that something didn't add up about Sonja Hökberg.
"I'll be in touch, of course, if she contacts me," Lötberg said.
Wallander was left with the image of her room in his head. It was a child's room, he thought. Not a 19-year-old's room. It was still the room of a 10-year-old, as if the room had stopped ageing even though the girl herself was still growing.
He couldn't develop this insight any further, but he knew it was important.
It took Martinsson less than half an hour to arrange the meeting with Eva Persson. Wallander was shocked when he saw her. She was short and looked no older than 12. He studied her hands and tried, without success, to picture her holding a knife and plunging it into the chest of her victim. But he soon recognised that there was something in her that reminded him of Hökberg. The look in her eyes, the same indifference.
Martinsson left them alone. Wallander would have liked Höglund there, but she was organising the search for Hökberg.
Persson's mother looked as if she had been crying. Wallander felt sorry for her. He shuddered to think what she was going through.
He came to the point at once. "Sonja has run away. I want you to tell me where you think she could have gone. Think carefully before you say anything, and make sure you tell me the whole truth. Do you understand?"
Persson nodded.
"Where do you think she's gone?"
"Home, probably. Where else would she have gone?"
His headache was making him impatient. "If she had gone home, we would already have found her," he said, raising his voice a little. The mother seemed to retreat into herself.
"I don't know where she is."
Wallander opened his notebook. "Who are her friends? Who does she normally go around with? Does she know anyone who has a car?"
"It's normally just her and me."
"What about her other friends?"
"There's Kalle, I suppose."
"What's his last name?"
"Ryss."
"His name is Kalle Ryss?"
"Yes."
"I don't want a single lie out of you, do you get that?"