Read The Man Who Smiled Online

Authors: Henning Mankell

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #Mystery, #Mystery & Detective, #Fiction - Mystery, #Detective, #Police Procedural, #Mystery & Detective - Police Procedural

The Man Who Smiled (42 page)

BOOK: The Man Who Smiled
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I have to sort this out myself, he thought. I don't want any more dead bodies.

He drove to the police station and collected his handgun and a torch. He went to Svedberg's deserted office and switched on the light, then trawled through papers until he found the map of the Farnholm Castle grounds. He folded it and put it in his pocket. When he left the station it was 7.45
.
He drove to Malmövagen and stopped at Höglund's house. He rang the bell, and her husband opened the door. He declined the offer to go inside, saying that he only wanted to leave her a message. When she came to the door she was in a dressing gown.

"Listen carefully," he said. "I'm going to break into Farnholm Castle."

"Ström?" she said.

"I think he's dead."

She turned pale and Wallander wondered if she was going to faint. "You can't go to the castle on your own," she said, when she had recovered her composure. "I have to."

"Why do you have to?"

"I have to sort this out myself," he said, annoyed. "Please stop asking questions. Just listen."

"I'm going with you," she said. "You can't go there by yourself."

She had made up her mind. There was no point in arguing with her.

"Alright, you can come," he said, "but you'll wait outside. I can use somebody I can be in radio contact with."

She ran up the stairs. Her husband ushered Wallander in and closed the door.

"This is what she warned me would happen," he said with a smile. "When I get back home, she's the one who'll be going out on business."

"This probably won't take very long," Wallander said, though he could hear how lame it sounded.

A couple of minutes later she came back down wearing a tracksuit.

"Don't wait up for me," she said to her husband.

Nobody to wait up for me, Wallander thought. Nobody. Not even a dozy cat among the plant pots on a window ledge.

They drove to the police station and collected two radio telephones.

"Maybe I should get a gun," she said.

"No," Wallander said. "You'll wait outside the perimeter. And you're for the high jump if you don't do exactly as I say."

They left Ystad behind. It was a clear, cold night. Wallander was driving fast.

"What are you going to do?" she said.

"I'm going to find out what's happened."

She can see through me, he thought. She knows I haven't a clue what I'm going to do.

They continued in silence and reached the turn-off to Farnholm Castle at about 9.30. Wallander drove on to a parking place for tractors, switched off his engine and also the lights. They sat there in the dark.

"I'll be in touch every hour," Wallander said. "If you hear nothing for more than two hours, phone Björk and tell him to organise a full emergency call-out."

"You shouldn't be doing this, you know," she said.

"All my life I've been doing things I shouldn't be doing," Wallander said. "Why stop now?"

They tuned their radio telephones.

"Why did you become a police officer and not a vicar?" he said, looking into her eyes reflected in the dim light of the telephones.

"I was raped," she said. "That changed my whole life. All I wanted to do after that was to join the police force."

Wallander sat for a while in silence. Then he opened the door, got out and closed it quietly behind him. It was like entering another world. Höglund was nowhere to hand any longer.

The night was very calm. For some reason he was struck by the thought that in two days it would be Lucia, and all Sweden would be occupied with blonde girls wearing a crown of burning candles on their heads, singing "Santa Lucia" and celebrating what used to be thought of as the winter solstice. He positioned himself behind a tree trunk and unfolded his map. He shone his torch on it and tried to memorise the key elements. Then he switched off the torch, put the map into his pocket and ran down the road leading to the castle gates. It would be impossible to climb the double fence of barbed wire. There was only one way in, and that was through the gates.

After ten minutes he paused to get his breath back. Then he made his way cautiously along the road until he could see the bright lights at the gates, and the bunker that guarded them.

I must do what they least expect, he thought. The last thing they'll be waiting for is an armed man trying to get into the castle grounds on his own.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He took his pistol out of his pocket. Behind the bunker was a narrow patch of shadow. He glanced at his watch: 9.57.

Then he made his move.

CHAPTER
17

The first call came after half an hour. She could hear his voice clearly, with no interference, as if he had not gone far from the car but was standing close by in the shadows. "Where are you?" she said.

"I'm inside the grounds," he said. "Stand by for the next call in an hour from now."

"What's happening?"

But there was no answer. She thought there had been a temporary loss of contact and waited for him to call back, but then she realised that Wallander had switched off without replying to her question. There was no sound from the radio.

It seemed to Wallander that he was walking through the valley of the shadow of death. Nevertheless, getting in had been easier than he had ever dared to hope. He had sneaked swiftly to the narrow patch of shadow behind the bunker and been surprised to discover a small window. By standing on tiptoe he could see inside. There was only one person in the bunker, sitting in front of a bank of computer screens and telephones. Only one person, and a woman at that. She seemed to be knitting a child's jumper. Wallander could hardly believe his eyes. The contrast with what was happening within the gates was too great, almost impossible to grasp. Obviously she could not possibly suspect that there would be an armed man just outside, so he walked calmly round the bunker and tapped on the door, trying to make it as
friendly
a knock as possible. Just as he had thought, she opened the door wide, not anticipating any threat. She had her knitting in her hand, and looked at Wallander in surprise. It had not occurred to him to draw his pistol. He explained who he was, Inspector Wallander from the Ystad police, and even apologised for disturbing her. He ushered her gently back inside the bunker and closed the door behind them. He looked to see whether there was a security camera inside the bunker as well, but there was no sign of one, and invited her to sit down. At that point it dawned on her what was happening, and she started screaming. Wallander drew his pistol. Holding the gun in his hand worried him so much that he felt sick. He avoided aiming at her, but ordered her to be quiet. She looked scared to death, and Wallander wished he had been able to calm her down, said she could carry on knitting the jumper which was no doubt for one of her grandchildren. But he thought about Ström and Sofia, he thought about Sten Torstensson and the mine in Mrs Dunér's garden. He asked if she had to keep reporting back to the castle, but she said she did not.

His next question was crucial. "Kurt Ström ought really to have been on duty tonight," he said.

"They phoned down from the castle and said I had to do his shift because he was ill."

"Who phoned?"

"One of the secretaries."

"Tell me exactly what she said, word for word."

"'Kurt Ström has been taken ill.' That's all."

As far as Wallander was concerned, he now had confirmation that everything had gone wrong. Ström had been unmasked, and Wallander had no illusions about the ability of the men around Harderberg to extract the truth from him.

He looked at the terrified woman. She was clinging to her knitting.

"There's a man just outside," he said, pointing to the window. "He's armed the same as me. If you sound the alarm after I've gone, you will not finish knitting that jumper."

He could see that she believed him.

"Whenever the gates open it's recorded up at the castle, is that right?" he said.

She nodded.

"What happens if there's a power cut?" "A big generator cuts in automatically."

"Is it possible to open the gates by hand? Without it being registered by the computers?" She nodded again.

"OK. Switch off the power supply to the gates," he said. "Open the gates for me, then close them behind me. Then switch the electricity back on."

He was sure she would do as he said. He opened the bunker door and shouted to the man who did not exist that he was coming out, that the gates were going to be opened and closed, and that everything was under control. She unlocked a box at the side of the gate to reveal a winch. When the gap was wide enough Wallander slipped through.

"Do exactly as I said. As long as you do, nothing will happen to you," he said.

Then he ran through the grounds towards the stables, picturing the route in his mind's eye from the map he had studied. All was very quiet, and when he was close enough to see the lights from the stables he paused and made the first call to Höglund. When she started asking questions he switched off. He went on walking cautiously towards the stables. The flat where Sofia lived was in an annexe built on to the main building. He stood for a considerable time in the shadow of a little coppice, observing the stables and the area round about. Occasionally he heard scrapes and thuds from the stalls. A light was on in the annexe. He made himself think completely calmly. The fact that Ström had been shot did not necessarily mean that they had realised there was a connection between him and the new stablegirl. Nor was it certain that the call she had made to Widén had been tapped. The uncertainty was the best Wallander could hope for. He wondered if they would have contingency plans to deal with a man having broken into the castle grounds.

He stayed in the shadows under the trees for several more minutes, then crouched and ran as fast as he could to the door of the annexe. He expected at any moment to be hit by a bullet. He knocked on the door, trying the handle at the same time. It was locked. Then he heard her voice, sounding very frightened, and he said who he was: Roger. Sten's friend Roger. He couldn't remember the surname he'd come up with. But she opened the door and he noted the expression of surprise mixed with relief on her face. The flat comprised a small kitchen and a living room with an alcove for a bedroom. He indicated with a finger to his lips that she should be quiet. They sat in the kitchen, facing each other across the table. He could hear the thuds from the stalls very clearly now.

Wallander said: "I don't have a lot of time and I can't explain why I'm here. So just answer my questions, please, nothing else."

He unfolded the map and laid it on the table.

"There was a man lying on a path," he said. "Can you point to where?"

She leaned across and drew a little circle with her index finger on a track marked to the south of the stables. "About there," she said.

"I have to ask you if you had seen the man before." "No."

"What was he wearing?" "I don't remember." "Was it a uniform?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. My mind's a blank." There was no point in his pressing her further. Her terror had affected her memory.

"Has anything else happened today, anything out of the ordinary?" "No."

"Nobody's been here to talk to you?" "No."

Wallander tried to work out what that meant. But the image of Ström lying there in the darkness forced all other thoughts from his mind.

"I'm going now," he said. "If anybody comes, don't tell them I've been."

"Will you come back?" she said.

"I don't know. But you don't need to worry, nothing's going to happen."

He peered out through a crack in the curtains, hoping the assurance he had just given her really would turn out to be true. Then he opened the door quickly and ran to the back of the building. He did not stop until he was in the shadows again. A slight breeze had started blowing. Beyond the trees he could see the powerful beams lighting up the dark red facade of the castle. He could also see lights in several of the windows on all floors.

He was shivering.

After thinking hard once more about the map he had lodged in his memory, he set off again, torch in hand. He passed the site of an artificial lake that had been drained of water. Then he turned left and began looking for the path. He glanced at his watch and saw that he had 40 minutes before he was due to contact Höglund again.

Just as he was beginning to think he was lost, he found the path. It was about a metre wide, and he could see the tracks of horses' hooves. He stood still, listening. But it was silent everywhere, although the wind seemed to be getting stronger. He continued along the path, expecting to be grabbed at any moment.

After about five minutes he stopped. If she had indicated correctly on the map, he had walked too far. Was he on the wrong path? He went on, more slowly. After another hundred metres he was sure he must have passed the point she had marked by now.

He stood still, feeling uneasy.

There was no sign of Ström. The body must have been taken away. He turned and began to retrace his steps, wondering what to do next. He stopped again, this time because he needed a pee. He stepped into the bushes by the side of the path. When he had finished he took the map from his pocket and checked again, just to be certain that he had not mistaken the spot Sofia had circled, or taken the wrong path.

As he switched on the torch he caught sight of a naked foot. He gave a start and dropped the torch, which went out as it landed on the ground. He must have imagined it. He bent down to retrieve the torch. He switched it on again and found himself looking straight at Kurt Ström's dead face. It was ashen, the lips tightly clenched. Blood had drained away and coagulated on his cheeks. He had an entry wound in the middle of his forehead. Wallander thought about what had happened to Sten Torstensson. He stood up and hurried away. Leaned against a tree and threw up. Then he ran. He got as far as the empty lake and sank to his knees at its edge. Somewhere in the background a bird flew, clattering, from the top of a tree. He jumped down into the lake bed and crept to a corner. It was like being in a burial vault. He thought he could hear footsteps approaching and drew his pistol, but nobody appeared. He took a few deep breaths and forced himself to think. He was close to panic and felt that he would lose his self-control at any moment. Another 14 minutes and he was due to contact Höglund. But he did not have to wait, he could call her now and ask her to phone Björk. Ström was dead, shot through the head, and nothing was going to bring him back to life. They should call a full-scale emergency, Wallander would be waiting for them at the gates, and what would happen after that he had no idea.

BOOK: The Man Who Smiled
13.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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