Sidetracked - By Henning Mankell & Steven T. Murray Page 0,102
to smithereens with one phone call, I’m afraid.”
“How could you tell she liked him?”
“She was hurt that he had lied to her.”
“Did you learn anything else?”
“Not really. But she’s on her way back to Sweden. She’s coming home on Friday. I’ll talk to her then.”
“And then you’re going on holiday?”
“I was planning to. Weren’t you supposed to start yours soon too?”
“I don’t even want to think about it.”
“Once they start moving, things could happen quickly.”
Wallander didn’t respond to Forsfält’s last remark. They said good-bye. Wallander dialled the switchboard, and asked the receptionist to track down Åkeson. After more than a minute she told him that Åkeson was at home. Wallander looked at the clock. Just after 9 a.m. He made a quick decision and left his office. He ran into Svedberg in the hall, still wearing his silly cap.
“How is the sunburn?” asked Wallander.
“Better. But I don’t dare go out without the cap.”
“Do you think locksmiths are open on Saturday?” asked Wallander.
“I doubt it. But there are locksmiths on call.”
“I need to get a couple of keys copied.”
“Did you lock yourself out?”
“I’ve lost my house keys.”
“Were your name and address on them?”
“Of course not.”
“Then at least you don’t need to change your lock.”
Wallander told Svedberg that he might be a little late for the meeting. He had to see Åkeson about something important. Åkeson lived in a residential neighbourhood near the hospital. Wallander had been to the house before and knew the way. When he arrived and got out of the car, he saw Åkeson mowing his lawn. He stopped when he saw Wallander.
“Has something happened?” he asked when they met at the gate.
“Yes and no,” said Wallander. “Something is always happening. But nothing crucial. I need your help with part of the investigation.”
They went into the garden. Wallander thought gloomily that it looked like every other garden he’d been in. He turned down an offer of coffee. They sat in the shade of a roofed patio.
“If my wife comes out I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention that I’m going to Africa this autumn. It’s still quite a sensitive topic,” said Åkeson.
Wallander said he wouldn’t. He explained about Louise Fredman and his suspicion that she might have been abused by her father. He was honest and said that this could well be a false trail and might not add anything to the investigation. He outlined the new tack they were trying in the case, which was based around the knowledge that Fredman had been killed by the same person as Wetterstedt and Carlman. “Björn Fredman was the black sheep in the scalped ‘family’,” he said, realising immediately how inappropriate the description was.
How did he fit into the picture? How didn’t he fit? Maybe they could find the connection by starting with Fredman at a place where a link was by no means obvious. Åkeson listened intently.
“I talked to Ekholm,” he said when Wallander had finished. “A good man, I thought. Competent. Realistic. The impression I got from him was that the man we’re looking for may strike again.”
“I’m always thinking about that.”
“What about getting reinforcements?” Åkeson asked.
Wallander told him about his conversation with Hansson earlier that morning.
“I think you’re mistaken,” Åkeson said. “It’s not enough for Hansson to have support. I think you have a tendency to overestimate the work that you and your colleagues can handle. This case is big, in fact it’s too big. I want to see more people working on it. More manpower means more things can be done at the same time. We’re dealing with a man who could kill again. That means we have no time to lose.”
“I know,” said Wallander. “I keep worrying that we’re already too late.”
“Reinforcements,” Åkeson repeated. “What do you think?”
“For the time being no, that’s not the problem.”
Tension rose between them.
“Let’s say that I, as the leader of the investigation, can’t accept that,” said Åkeson. “But you don’t want more manpower. Where does that leave us?”
“In a difficult situation.”
“Very difficult. And unpleasant. If I request more manpower against the wishes of the police, my argument has to be that the present investigative team isn’t up to the task. I’d have to declare your team incompetent, even though I’d phrase it in more kindly terms. And I don’t want to do that.”
“I assume you’ll do it if you have to,” said Wallander. “And that’s when I’ll resign from the force.”
“God damn it, Kurt!”
“You were the one who started this discussion, not me.”