Wallander opened his notebook.
“Who are her friends? Who does she normally associate with? Does she know anyone who has a car?”
“Normally it’s just her and me.”
“What about her other friends?”
“There’s Kalle, I guess.”
“What’s his last name?”
“Ryss.”
“His name is Kalle Ryss?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t want to hear a single lie, do you understand?”
“What the fuck are you screaming at me for, you old bastard?!”
Wallander almost exploded, perhaps reacting most strongly to being called an “old bastard.”
“Just tell me who he is.”
“He’s a surfer. He goes to Australia a lot, but he’s home right now working for his dad.”
“What does the dad do?”
“He owns a hardware store.”
“And he’s friends with Sonja?”
“They used to go out.”
Wallander continued questioning her but Eva Persson was unable to think of anyone else that Sonja Hökberg might have been likely to contact. She didn’t know where Sonja would be likely to go. In a last attempt to get some more information, Wallander turned to Eva’s mother but she only said she knew very little about Sonja.
“You must have known something about her — she was your daughter’s best friend.”
“I never liked her.”
Eva Persson turned to her mother and hit her in the face. It happened so fast that Wallander had no time to stop her. Eva’s mother started screaming and Eva continued hitting her and yelling obscenities. She bit Wallander’s hand but he still managed to tear them apart.
“Get rid of that old hag!” she yelled. “I don’t want to see her anymore!”
At that moment Wallander lost control of himself. He slapped Eva Persson hard in the face. The girl was knocked to the ground. Wallander quickly left the room with his palm stinging. Lisa Holgersson came hurrying down the hallway and stared questioningly at him.
“What happened in there?”
Wallander didn’t answer. He looked down at his hand. It had turned red and was still hurting.
Neither one of them noticed the journalist who had arrived early for the press conference. During the chaotic events of the last few minutes he had managed to come right up to the doorway unnoticed. He snapped a few pictures and made a note of what he observed. A headline was starting to take shape in his head.
When the press conference finally started, it was half an hour late. Lisa Holgersson had been holding onto the hope that a patrol car would spot Sonja Hökberg. Wallander, who had not been harboring any illusions about the likelihood of this, had wanted to start the press conference on time. His reasons were only partly due to his doubts about finding Sonja. It was also because his flu was now starting to break out in full force.
At last he managed to convince her to go ahead. The reporters were only going to get irritated and make things more difficult for them.
“What do you want me to tell them?” she asked him as they walked into the large conference room where the meeting was to be held.
“Nothing,” Wallander said. “I’ll handle it. I just want you to be present, that’s all.”
Wallander excused himself and went to the bathroom. He rinsed his face off with cold water, then returned to the conference room. He flinched when he saw how many reporters were assembled. He walked up to the small podium, followed by Holgersson. They sat down and Wallander looked out over the sea of faces. He recognized some of them. He even knew some of the reporters’ names, but most of them were complete strangers.
What should I tell them? he wondered. Even when you think you known what you’re going to say, it never comes out exactly the way you had imagined.
Lisa Holgersson welcomed the reporters and introduced Wallander.
I hate this, he thought bitterly. I don’t just dislike it, I hate all these meetings with the media even though I know it’s a fact of life.
He counted silently to three before he began.
“Several days ago a taxi driver in Ystad was robbed and brutally assaulted. As you know, he recently died due to the severity of the wounds that were inflicted. Two people have since been charged with the crime and they have both confessed. Since one of the assailants is a juvenile, we will not be releasing any names at this press conference.”
One of the reporters raised his hand.
“Isn’t it true that the assailants were both women?”
“I’ll get there, don’t worry,” Wallander said.
The reporter was young and pushy.
“This press conference was supposed to start at one o’clock and it’s already past one-thirty. Don’t you realize that we have deadlines to meet?”
Wallander ignored this question.
“The charges in this case have been upgraded to murder,” he said.
“There’s no reason for us not to disclose the fact that this was an unusually brutal killing. It is therefore particularly comforting that we were able to resolve the investigation as quickly as we did.”
Then he took a deep breath. It felt like diving into a pool without knowing how deep the water was.
“Unfortunately, there has recently been a complication due to the fact that one of the assailants has escaped. We have, however, every expectation of catching her shortly.”
At first there was complete silence in the room. Then it exploded in questions.
“What’s her name?”
Wallander looked over at Holgersson, who nodded.
“Sonja Hökberg.”
“Where was she being detained?”
“Here at the police station.”
“How could that happen?”
“We’re conducting an internal inquiry into the matter.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly what you think it means. That we’re investigating how Sonja Hökberg was able to escape from our custody.”
“Would it be correct to characterize her as dangerous?”
Wallander hesitated.
“We don’t know yet if she poses a threat to the public.”
“Surely she either poses a threat or she doesn’t? Which is it?”
Wallander was starting to lose his temper, something that had happened innumerable times this day. He wanted to bring the proceedings to a close so he could go home and go to bed.
“Next question.”
The reporter was not going to give up.
“I want a definite answer. Is she dangerous or not?”
“I’ve already given you an answer. Next question.”
“Is she armed?”
“We don’t know.”
“How was the taxi driver killed?”
“With a knife and a hammer.”
“Have you recovered the murder weapons?”
“Yes.”
“Can we see them?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“For technical reasons linked to the progress of the investigation. Next question.”
“Have the police been alerted nationwide?”
“At this point there is only regional involvment. And that’s all we have to tell you for the moment.”
Wallander’s closing words were met with a storm of protest. Wallander knew there were an endless number of more or less important questions left, but he got up and pulled Chief Holgersson up with him.
“That will have to do for now,” he hissed.
“Shouldn’t we stay longer?”
“Then you’ll have to take over. They got the information they need. They’ll fill in the rest better than we could have done.”
Reporters from TV and radio stations wanted interviews. Wallander had to wade through a throng of microphones and camera lenses.
“You’ll have to deal with this yourself,” he said to Holgersson. “Or Martinsson. I have to go home.”