Sidetracked - By Henning Mankell & Steven T. Murray Page 0,62

in that life he would have stopped me from becoming a policeman,” said Wallander.

“It’s terrible, what I read in the papers,” she said. “All the horrible things you have to deal with.”

“Someone has to do it,” said Wallander. “That’s just the way it is.”

They stayed and ate dinner in the garden. Wallander could see that his father was in an unusually good mood. He assumed that Linda was the reason. It was already 11 p.m. by the time they left.

“Adults can be so childlike,” Linda said suddenly. “Sometimes because they’re showing off, trying to act young. But Grandpa can seem childlike in a way that seems totally unaffected.”

“Your grandpa is a very special person,” said Wallander.

“Do you know you’re starting to look like him?” she asked. “You two are becoming more alike every year.”

“I know,” said Wallander. “But I don’t know if I like it.”

He dropped her off where he’d picked her up. They decided that she would call in a few days. He watched her disappear past Österport School and realised to his astonishment that he hadn’t thought about the investigation once the whole evening. He immediately felt guilty, then pushed the feeling away. He knew that he couldn’t do any more than he had already done today.

He drove to the station. None of the detectives were in. There weren’t any messages important enough to answer that evening. He drove home, parked his car, and went up to his flat.

Wallander stayed up for a long time that night. He had the windows open to the warm summer air. On his stereo he played some music by Puccini. He poured himself the last of the whisky. He felt some of the happiness he had felt the afternoon he was driving out to Salomonsson’s farm, before the catastrophe had struck. Now he was in the middle of an investigation that was marked by two things. First, they had very little to help them identify the killer. Second, it was quite possible that he was busy carrying out his third murder at that very moment. Still, Wallander tried to put the case out of his mind. And for a short time the burning girl disappeared from his thoughts too. He had to admit that he couldn’t single-handedly solve every violent crime that happened in Ystad. He could only do his best. That’s all anyone could do.

He lay down on the sofa and dozed off to the music and the summer night with the whisky glass within reach.

But something drew him back to the surface again. It was something that Linda had said in the car. Some words that suddenly took on a whole new meaning. He sat up on the sofa, frowning. What was it she had said? Adults can be so childlike. There was something there that he couldn’t grasp. Adults can be so childlike.

Then he realised what it was. And he couldn’t understand how he could have been so sloppy. He put on his shoes, found a torch in one of the kitchen drawers, and left the flat. He drove out along Österleden, turned right, and stopped outside Wetterstedt’s house, which lay in darkness. He opened the gate to the front yard. He gave a start when a cat vanished like a shadow among the bushes. He shone the torch along the base of the garage, and didn’t have to search long before he found what he was looking for. He took the torn-out pages of the magazine between his thumb and forefinger and shone the light on them. They were from an issue of The Phantom. He searched in his pockets for a plastic bag and put the pages inside.

Then he drove home. He was still annoyed that he had been so sloppy.

Adults can be so childlike.

A grown man could very well have sat on the garage roof reading an issue of The Phantom.

CHAPTER 16

When Wallander awoke just before 5 a.m., on Monday 27 June, a cloud bank had drifted in from the west and reached Ystad, but there was still no rain. Wallander lay in bed and tried in vain to go back to sleep. At 6 a.m. he got up, showered and made coffee. The fatigue was like a dull pain. Ten or 15 years ago he’d almost never felt tired in the morning, no matter how little sleep he’d got, he thought with regret. But those days were gone forever.

Just before 7 a.m. he walked into the station. Ebba had already arrived, and she smiled at