Firewall - By Henning Mankell & Ebba Segerberg Page 0,77
they're supposed to. They never do."
"And the dogs?"
"I only just got here. I haven't seen anyone yet."
Wallander looked around. "When I first came to Ystad, this part of town was an empty field," he said. "None of this was here."
They started along the street. Wallander told him about Martinsson's valiant efforts to break the code of Falk's computer. They got to the cash machine and stopped.
"It's funny how quickly you get used to things," Hansson said. "I can hardly remember life before these machines. Not that I have a clue how they actually work. Sometimes I imagine a little man sitting inside, someone who counts out all the notes and sends it through to you."
Wallander thought again about what Erik Hökberg had said, about how vulnerable society had become. The blackout a few days ago had proved him right.
They walked back to Hansson's car. Still they saw no-one out walking their dogs.
"I'm off now. How was the dinner?"
"I never went. What's the point of eating if you can't have a glass or two?"
Wallander was about to leave when Hansson mentioned having had a conversation earlier in the day with the prosecutor.
"Did Viktorsson have anything to say?"
"Not really."
"He must have said something."
"He said he couldn't see any reason to narrow the investigation at this point. The case should still be attacked on all fronts. Without fixed ideas."
"Policemen never work without fixed ideas," Wallander said. "He should know that by now."
"Well, that was what he said."
"Nothing else?"
"Not really."
Wallander had the feeling that he was holding something back. He waited, but Hansson didn't add anything.
"I think 12.30 a.m. should do it," Wallander told him. "I'll see you in the morning."
"I should have worn warmer clothes. It's a chilly night."
"Soon enough it'll be winter," Wallander said.
He walked back into town. He was convinced that Hansson hadn't told him everything. By the time he got to Runnerströms Torg he realised it had to mean that Viktorsson had made some comment about him, about the Persson girl and the internal investigation. He was irritated that Hansson hadn't told him what he had said, but it didn't surprise him. Hansson made a career of trying to be everyone's friend. Wallander suddenly felt how tired he was. Or perhaps he was simply demoralised.
He looked around. The undercover police car was still parked in its spot. Apart from that the street was deserted. He unlocked his car and got in. Just as he was about to start the engine his mobile phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket. It was Martinsson.
"Where are you?" Wallander said.
"I went home."
"Why? Couldn't you get hold of Molin?"
"Modin. Robert Modin. No, I began to wonder if it was such a good idea after all."
"Why?"
"You know how it is, regulations. We can't simply bring in whoever we want on a case from outside the force. And remember, Modin has been convicted of a crime – even if his sentence was only for a month or so."
Martinsson was getting cold feet. That had happened before. At times it had even led to conflict between them. Sometimes Wallander thought Martinsson was too careful. He never used the word "pusillanimous", but that was what he meant.
"Strictly speaking we should first get approval from the prosecutor," Martinsson said. "At the very least we should talk to Lisa."
"I'll take full responsibility," Wallander said.
"Even so."
Martinsson had clearly made up his mind.
"Give me Modin's address," Wallander said. "That way you'll be absolved of all responsibility."
"You don't think we should wait?"
"No. Time is running out and I want to know what's in that computer."
"What you really need to do is sleep, you know. Have you looked in the mirror recently?"
"Yes, I know," Wallander said. "Now give me the address."
He found a pen in the glove compartment which was stuffed full of papers and folded-up paper plates from burger bars. Wallander wrote down what Martinsson said on the back of a petrol receipt.
"It's almost midnight," Martinsson said.
"I know," Wallander said. "See you tomorrow."
He hung up and put his phone on the passenger seat. But before he started the engine he thought about what Martinsson had said. He was right about one thing. They needed to sleep. What was the point of going out to Löderup in the middle of the night? Modin was probably sleeping. I'll let it go until tomorrow, he thought.
He started the engine and drove in the direction of Löderup. He drove fast to try to wake himself up. He wasn't even acting on his own decisions any more.