Wallander went quickly up to her.
“Where’s Yvonne Ander?”
“She’s not here.”
“Where is she?”
“I assume she’s on her way to work.”
Wallander was now in a big hurry.
“Who came and picked her up?”
“She always drives herself.”
“But her car is still parked outside the house.”
“She has two cars.”
So simple, thought Wallander. Not just the red Golf.
“Are you feeling all right?” he asked. “And your baby?”
“Why shouldn’t I feel all right?”
Wallander took a quick look around the room. Then he asked Hoglund to call in the others. They didn’t have much time.
“Get Nyberg here,” he said. “The house has to be gone over from the rafters to the cellar.”
The freezing police officers gathered in the big white room.
“She’s gone,” Wallander said. “She’s on her way to Hassleholm. At least there’s no reason to believe otherwise. She’s supposed to start her shift there. A passenger named Tore Grunden will be getting on too. He’s the next one on her hit list.”
“Is she really going to kill him on the train?” Martinsson asked, incredulous.
“We don’t know. But we don’t want any more murders. We have to catch her.”
“We’ll have to warn our colleagues in Hassleholm,” Hansson said.
“We’ll do that on the way,” Wallander said. “I think Hansson and Martinsson should come with me. The rest of you start on the house. And talk to Katarina Taxell.”
He nodded at her. She was standing next to the wall. The light was grey. She almost blended in with the wall, dissolved, faded. Could a person become so pale that she was no longer visible?
They took off. Hansson drove. Martinsson was just about to call Hassleholm when Wallander told him to wait.
“I think it’s best we do this ourselves,” he said. “If there’s chaos, we don’t know what will happen. She could be dangerous. I understand that now. Dangerous for us too.”
“Of course she is,” Hansson said in surprise. “She’s killed three people. Impaled them on stakes, strangled them, drowned them. If a person like that isn’t dangerous then I don’t know who is.”
“We don’t even know what Grunden looks like,” Martinsson said. “Are we going to page him at the station? And she’ll probably be in uniform.”
“Maybe,” Wallander said. “We’ll see when we get there. Put on the lights. We’ve got no time to lose.”
Hansson drove fast. Time was tight. With about 20 minutes to go, Wallander realised that they wouldn’t make it. One of their tyres blew. Hansson swore and braked. When they saw that the left rear tyre had to be changed, Martinsson wanted to call Hassleholm. If nothing else, they could send a car for them. But Wallander said no. He had made up his mind. They would make it.
They changed the tyre at lightning speed while the wind tore at their clothes. Then they were on the road again. Hansson drove very fast. Time was running out and Wallander tried to decide what they should do. He couldn’t believe that Yvonne Ander would kill Tore Grunden in plain sight of the passengers. It didn’t fit with her previous modus operandi. For the time being they’d have to forget about Grunden. They would look for her, a woman in uniform, and they would grab her as discreetly as possible.
They reached Hassleholm and Hansson started to head in the wrong direction, even though he claimed to know the way. Now Wallander was agitated too, and by the time they reached the station they were almost yelling at each other. They jumped out of the car, its lights flashing and ran towards the platform. We look as though we’re about to rob the ticket office, Wallander thought. They had exactly three minutes left. The train was announced, but Wallander couldn’t hear if it was just arriving or was already there.
He told Martinsson and Hansson that now they had to calm down. They should walk out onto the platform a little apart from each other. When they found her they should grab her from both sides. They couldn’t be sure how she would react. They should be prepared, not with revolvers, but with their hands. Yvonne Ander didn’t use weapons. They should be prepared, but they had to take her without firing a shot.
The wind was still blowing hard. The train hadn’t arrived. The passengers were huddled in whatever shelter from the wind they could find. The station was crowded. They went out onto the platform, Wallander first, Hansson right behind him, and Martinsson out by the track. Wallander spotted a male conductor standing smoking a cigarette. He felt the tension making him sweat. He couldn’t see Yvonne Ander. No women in uniform. Quickly he scanned the crowd for a man who might be Tore Grunden, but it was hopeless. The man had no face. He was just a name in a macabre notebook.
He exchanged glances with Hansson and Martinsson. He looked back towards the entrance to see if she was coming from that direction. At the same time the train came into the station. He knew that something was going very wrong. He couldn’t believe that she intended to kill Grunden on the platform. But he couldn’t be entirely sure. He’d seen the most calculating individuals suddenly lose control and act impulsively when they felt threatened. The passengers started picking up their belongings. Wallander no longer had any choice. He had to talk to the conductor and ask whether Yvonne Ander was already on the train.
The train came to a halt, its brakes shrieking. Wallander had to push his way through the passengers who were hurrying to board the train and get out of the wind. Suddenly he noticed a lone man standing further down the platform. He was just picking up his bag. Next to him stood a woman, wearing a long overcoat that was being whipped by the wind. A train was coming in from the other direction. Wallander was never sure whether he consciously understood the situation, but he reacted as though everything was perfectly clear. He shoved aside the passengers in his way. Hansson and Martinsson came behind him, without knowing exactly where they were going. Wallander saw the woman grab the man from behind. She almost lifted him off the ground. Wallander sensed more than understood that she intended to throw him in front of the train coming in on the other track. Since he couldn’t reach them in time, he screamed at her. Despite the roar of the engines she heard him. One instant of hesitation was enough. She looked at Wallander. Martinsson and Hansson appeared at his side. They sprinted towards the woman, who had let go of the man. The long coat had blown up, and Wallander caught a glimpse of her uniform underneath. Suddenly she raised her hand and did something that made both Hansson and Martinsson stop in their tracks. She ripped off her hair. It was caught at once by the wind and flew down the platform. Under the wig her hair was short. They started running again.
Grunden didn’t seem to understand what had happened to him.
“Yvonne Ander!” Wallander shouted. “Police!”
Martinsson was now almost upon her. Wallander saw him stretch out his arms to grab her. She jabbed with her right fist, hard and accurate. The blow struck Martinsson on the left cheek. He dropped to the platform without a sound. Behind Wallander someone was shouting. A passenger had seen what was going on. Hansson went to draw his revolver, but it was already too late. She grabbed his jacket and kneed him hard in the groin. For a moment she leaned over him as he buckled forwards. Then she started running down the platform. She tore off the overcoat. It fluttered and then blew away on a gust of wind. Wallander stopped beside Martinsson and Hansson. Martinsson was out cold. Hansson was moaning and white in the face. When Wallander looked up she was gone. He took off down the platform running as fast as he could, and caught sight of her just before she vanished across the tracks. He knew the chances of catching up with her were small. And he didn’t know how badly Martinsson was hurt. He turned back and saw that Tore Grunden was gone. Several railway workers came running up. No-one realised in the confusion what had happened.