There was more.
“Davidsson is a peaceful man who suffers from high blood pressure. I spoke with some of his colleagues in Malmo, and they were deeply distressed. One of them told me something that Davidsson hadn’t mentioned.”
Wallander was listening intently.
“Davidsson is a dedicated and active member of Amnesty International,” Hansson said. “Now that organisation might begin to take an interest in Sweden, if this rise of the citizen militia and attacks on people isn’t stopped.”
Wallander was speechless. He felt sick and dizzy.
“These thugs have a leader,” Hansson went on. “His name is Eskil Bengtsson, and he owns a lorry company in Lodinge.”
“We’ve got to put a stop to this,” Chief Holgersson said. “Even though we’re up to our necks in murder investigations. At least we have to plan what to do.”
“It’s quite simple,” Wallander said, getting to his feet. “We drive out and arrest Eskil Bengtsson. And we also bring in everyone who’s mixed up in this militia. Ake Davidsson will have to identify them, one by one.”
“But his eyesight is terrible,” Holgersson said.
“People who don’t see well often have excellent hearing,” Wallander replied. “You said that the men were talking while they were beating him.”
“I wonder if this will hold up,” she said doubtfully. “What kind of proof have we got?”
“It holds up for me,” Wallander said. “Of course you can always order me not to leave the station.”
She shook her head. “Go ahead. The sooner the better.”
Wallander nodded to Hansson. They went out into the hall.
“I want two squad cars,” Wallander said, poking Hansson on the shoulder with his finger for emphasis. “They should drive there with lights flashing and sirens going, both when we leave Ystad and when we enter Lodinge. It wouldn’t hurt to let the press know about this either.”
“We can’t do that,” Hansson said, looking anxious.
“Of course we can’t,” Wallander said. “We’re leaving in ten minutes. We can talk about your Ostersund work in the car.”
“I’ve got a kilo of papers left,” Hansson said. “It’s an incredible amount of research. Layer after layer. There’s even a son who took over from his father as investigator.”
“In the car,” Wallander interrupted him. “Not here.”
Wallander went out to reception. He said something to Ebba in a low voice. She nodded and promised to do what he’d asked. Five minutes later they were on their way. They left Ystad with lights flashing and sirens on.
“What are we going to arrest Bengtsson for?” Hansson asked.
“He’s suspected of aggravated assault,” Wallander replied. “Instigating violence. Davidsson must have been transported to the road, so we’ll try kidnapping too. And inciting a riot.”
“You’re going to have Akeson on your back for this.”
“I’m not so sure about that,” Wallander said.
“It feels as though we’re on our way to arrest some pretty dangerous men,” Hansson said.
“You’re right. We’re after dangerous people. Right now I have a hard time thinking of anything that is more dangerous for the rule of law in this country.”
They pulled up at Eskil Bengtsson’s farmhouse, which lay on the road into the village. There were two trucks and a digger parked nearby. A dog was barking furiously.
“Let’s get him,” Wallander said.
Just as they reached the front door it was opened by a stocky man with a pot belly. Wallander glanced at Hansson, who nodded.
“Inspector Wallander of the Ystad Police,” he introduced himself. “Get your jacket. You’re coming with us.”
“Where the hell to?”
The man’s arrogance almost made Wallander lose control. Hansson noticed this and poked him in the arm.
“You’re coming to Ystad,” Wallander said with icy calm. “And you damn well know why.”
“I haven’t done anything,” Bengtsson said.
“Yes, you have,” Wallander said. “In fact, you’ve done way too much. If you don’t get your jacket you’ll have to come along without it.”
A small, thin woman appeared at the man’s side.
“What’s going on?” she yelled in a high-pitched, piercing voice. “What did he do?”
“You keep out of this,” the man said, shoving her back inside the house.
“That does it, handcuff him,” Wallander said.
Hansson stared at him uncomprehendingly.
“Why?”
Wallander’s patience was at an end. He turned to one of the officers and took his handcuffs. He told Bengtsson to stick out his hands, and snapped the cuffs on him. It happened so fast that Bengtsson didn’t think to resist. At the same time there was a flash from a camera. A photographer who had just hopped out of his car had taken a picture.
“How the hell does the press know we’re here?” Hansson asked.
“No idea,” Wallander said. Ebba was reliable and fast. “Let’s go.”
The woman came outside again. Suddenly she jumped on Hansson and started hitting him with her fists. The photographer took more pictures. Wallander escorted Bengtsson to the car.
“You’re going to get shit for this,” Bengtsson said.
Wallander smiled. “Maybe. But nothing compared to what you’re going to get. You want to start with the names right now? The men who were with you last night?”
Bengtsson said nothing more. Wallander pushed him hard into the back seat. Hansson had finally managed to get away from the hysterical woman.
“Goddamn it, she’s the one who should be in the kennel.”
He was shaking. He had a deep scratch on one cheek.
“We’re leaving now,” Wallander said. “Get in the other car and drive over to the hospital. I want to know if Davidsson heard any names. Or whether he saw anyone who could have been Eskil Bengtsson.”
Hansson nodded and left. The photographer came over to Wallander.
“We got an anonymous tip-off,” he said. “What’s going on?”
“A number of individuals attacked and battered an innocent man last night. They seem to be part of some sort of citizen militia. The man was guilty of nothing more than taking a wrong turn. They claimed he was a burglar. They almost beat him to death.”
“And the man in the car?”
“He’s suspected of having participated,” Wallander said. “We know that he’s behind this militia. We’re not going to have vigilantes in Sweden. Here in Skane or anywhere else in the country.”
The photographer wanted to ask another question, but Wallander raised his hand to stop him.
“There’ll be a press conference later. We’re leaving now.”
Wallander told the officers that he wanted sirens on the way back too. Several cars full of curiosity-seekers had stopped outside the farmhouse. Wallander squeezed into the back seat next to Eskil Bengtsson.
“Shall we start with the names?” he asked. “It’ll save a lot of time. Both yours and mine.”
Bengtsson didn’t answer. Wallander could smell the strong odour of his sweat.
It took Wallander three hours to get Bengtsson to admit that he had taken part in the assault on Davidsson. Then everything happened quickly. Bengtsson told him the names of the three other men who’d been with him. Wallander had them all brought in at once. Ake Davidsson’s car, which had been left in an abandoned shed, was discovered. Just after 3 p.m. Wallander convinced Akeson to keep the four men in custody. He went straight from his talk with Akeson to the room where several reporters were waiting. Chief Holgersson had already informed them of the events of the previous night. For once Wallander was actually looking forward to meeting the press. Although he knew that the chief had already given them the background, he recounted the sequence of events for them.
“Four men have just been indicted by the prosecutor,” he said. “We have absolutely no doubt that they are guilty of assault. But what’s even more serious is that there are another five or six men involved in the group, a vigilante guard out in Lodinge. These are individuals who have decided to put themselves above the law. We can see what that leads to in this case: an innocent man, with poor eyesight and high blood pressure, is almost murdered when he gets lost. Is this the way we want it to be? That you might be risking your life when you make a wrong turn? Is that how things stand? That from now on we’re all thieves, rapists, and killers in one another’s eyes? I can’t make it any plainer. Some of the people who are lured into joining these illegal and dangerous militias probably don’t understand what they’re getting involved with. They can be excused if they resign immediately. But those who joined and were fully conscious of what they were doing, are indefensible. These four men that we arrested today unfortunately belong to the latter group. We can only hope they receive sentences that will serve as deterrents to others.”