Sidetracked - By Henning Mankell & Steven T. Murray Page 0,61
a telephoto lens as he paced around the empty car park. A few weeks later, when an astonished Wallander saw the picture, he’d even forgotten that he’d stopped there to try and clear his head.
The team met very briefly that afternoon. Mats Ekholm joined them and ran through what he had discussed earlier with Hansson and Wallander. Höglund told the team about the fax, and Wallander reported that Anita Carlman had confirmed the information it contained. He didn’t mention being slapped. When Hansson asked tentatively whether he’d consider talking to the reporters camped out around the station who seemed to know when a meeting had taken place, he refused.
“We have to teach these reporters that we’re working on a legal matter,” Wallander said, and could hear how affected he sounded. “Ann-Britt can take care of them. I’m not interested.”
“Is there anything I shouldn’t say?” she asked.
“Don’t say we have a suspect,” said Wallander. “Because we don’t.”
After the meeting Wallander exchanged a few words with Martinsson.
“Has anything more been discovered about the girl?” he asked.
“Not yet,” said Martinsson.
“Let me know as soon as something happens.”
Wallander went to his room. The telephone rang immediately, making him jump. Every time it rang he expected to be told of another murder. But it was his sister. She told him that she had talked to Gertrud. There was no doubt that their father had Alzheimer’s disease. Wallander could hear how upset she was.
“He’s almost 80,” he consoled her. “Sooner or later something had to happen.”
“But even so,” she said.
Wallander knew what she meant. He could have used the same words himself. All too often life was reduced to those powerless words of protest, but even so.
“He won’t be able to handle a trip to Italy,” she said.
“If he wants to, then he will,” said Wallander. “Besides, I promised him.”
“Maybe I should come with you.”
“No. It’s our trip.”
He hung up, wondering whether she was offended that he didn’t invite her to join them. But he put aside those thoughts and decided that he really had to go and visit his father. He located the scrap of paper on which he had written Linda’s phone number and called her. He was surprised when Kajsa answered at once, expecting them to be outside on such a beautiful day. When Linda came on he asked whether she’d leave her rehearsal and drive out with him to see her grandfather.
“Can Kajsa come too?” she asked.
“Normally I’d say yes,” replied Wallander. “But today I’d prefer it if it was just you and me. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
He picked her up in Österport Square. On the way to Löderup he told her about his father’s visit to the station, and that he was ill.
“No-one knows how fast it will progress,” said Wallander. “But he will be leaving us. Sort of like a ship sailing farther and farther out towards the horizon. We’ll still be able to see him clearly, but for him we’ll seem more and more like shapes in the fog. Our faces, our words, our common memories, everything will become indistinct and finally disappear altogether. He might be cruel without realising he’s doing it. He could turn into a totally different person.”
Wallander could tell that she was upset.
“Can’t anything be done?” she asked after sitting for a long time in silence.
“Only Gertrud can answer that,” he said. “But I don’t think there is a cure.”
He also told her about the trip that he and his father wanted to take to Italy.
“It’ll be just him and me,” said Wallander. “Maybe we can work out all the problems we’ve had.”
Gertrud met them on the steps when they pulled into the courtyard. Linda ran to see her grandfather, who was painting out in the studio he had made in the old barn. Wallander sat down in the kitchen and talked to Gertrud. It was just as he thought. There was nothing to be done but try to live a normal life and wait.
“Will he be able to travel to Italy?” asked Wallander.
“That’s all he talks about,” she said. “And if he should die while he’s there, it wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
She told him that his father had taken the news of his illness calmly. This surprised Wallander, who had known his father to fret about the slightest ailment.
“I think he’s come to terms with old age,” said Gertrud. “He probably thinks that by and large he would live the same life again if he had the chance.”