“Should we bring her in?”
“No. But I think I’ll drive over to Lund. Then you and I can start by talking to her one more time.”
“What about? If you don’t ask any meaningful questions she’ll get suspicious.”
“I’ll think of something on the way there. Shall we say we’ll meet outside her building at midday?”
Wallander signed out a car and drove out of Ystad. He stopped at Sturup Airport and had a sandwich. As usual he was shocked at the price. While he ate he tried to come up with some questions to ask Katarina Taxell. He couldn’t show up and ask the same things as last time.
He decided to start with Eugen Blomberg. He was the one who was murdered, after all. They needed all the information they could get on him. Taxell was only one of the people they were questioning, he would tell her.
Just before midday, Wallander finally managed to find a parking place in the centre of Lund. The rain had stopped, and he walked through the city. After a while he saw Birch in the distance.
“I heard the news about Martinsson and his daughter,” he said. “It’s awful.”
“What isn’t awful these days?” Wallander said.
“How’s the girl handling it?”
“Let’s just hope she can forget all about it. But Martinsson told me that he’s quitting the force. I have to try and prevent that.”
“If he really means it, deep down, nobody will be able to stop him.”
“I don’t think he’ll do it.”
“I took a rock on my head once,” Birch said. “I got so angry I tore after the man who threw it. It turned out that I’d arrested his brother once and so he thought he was completely justified in throwing a rock at me.”
“A policeman is always a policeman,” Wallander said. “At least if you believe the rock throwers.”
Birch changed the subject.
“What are you going to ask her about?”
“Eugen Blomberg. How they met. I have to make her think I’m asking her the same questions I ask everyone else. Routine matters, more or less.”
“What do you hope to achieve?”
“I don’t know. But I still think it’s necessary.”
They went into the building. Wallander suddenly had a premonition that something was wrong. He stopped on the stairs. Birch looked at him.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing.”
They continued up to the third floor. Birch rang the bell. They waited. He rang again. The bell echoed inside the flat. They looked at each other. Wallander bent down and opened the letter slot. Everything was silent. Birch rang again. Long, repetitive rings. No-one came to the door.
“She’s got to be home,” he said. “No-one reported that she went out.”
“Then she went up the chimney,” Wallander said. “Because she’s not here.”
They ran down the stairs. Birch tore open the door to the police car. The man at the wheel sat reading a magazine.
“Did she go out?” he asked.
“She’s inside.”
“Guess again.”
“Is there a back door?” Wallander asked.
“Not that I know of.”
“That’s no answer,” Birch said angrily. “Either there’s a back door or there isn’t.”
They went back inside the building and down a flight of stairs. The door to the basement level was locked.
“Is there a caretaker?” Wallander asked.
“We don’t have time for that,” Birch said.
He examined the hinges on the door. They were rusty.
“We can try,” Birch muttered to himself.
He took a running start and threw himself against the door. It was ripped off its hinges.
“You know what it means to break the regulations,” Wallander said without irony.
They went inside. The hall between a row of locked storage rooms led to a door at the end. Birch opened it. They were at the bottom of some stairs leading up to the street.
“So she got out the back way,” he said. “And nobody even took the trouble to see if there was one.”
“She might still be in the flat,” Wallander said.
Birch understood.
“Suicide?”
“I doubt it. But we have to go in. And we don’t have time to wait for a locksmith.”
“I’m pretty good at picking locks,” Birch said. “I’ll just have to get some tools.”
When he came back he was out of breath. In the meantime Wallander had gone back to Katarina Taxell’s door and was ringing the bell. An elderly man next door came out and asked what was going on. Wallander got angry. He took out his badge and held it right up to the man’s face.
“We’d appreciate it if you’d shut your door,” he said. “Now. And keep it shut until we tell you.”
The man retreated. Wallander heard him putting on the safety chain.
Birch picked the lock in less than five minutes. They went in. The flat was empty. Taxell had taken her baby with her. Birch shook his head.
“Somebody’s going to answer for this,” he said.
They went through the flat. Wallander got the feeling that she had left in a big hurry. He stopped in front of a baby buggy in the kitchen.
“She must have been picked up by car,” he said. “There’s a petrol station across the street. Maybe someone there saw a woman with a baby leave the building.”
Birch left to find out. Wallander went through the flat one more time. He tried to imagine what had happened. Why does a woman leave her flat with a newborn baby? Taking the back way meant that she wanted to leave in secret. It also meant that she knew the building was being watched.
She or someone else, Wallander thought. Someone might have seen the surveillance from outside and then called her to arrange her escape. He sat down on a chair in the kitchen. There was one more question he needed to consider. Were Katarina Taxell and her baby in danger? Or had their flight from the flat been voluntary? Someone would have noticed if she had put up a struggle, he thought. So she must have left of her own volition. There was only one reason for that. She didn’t want to answer questions from the police.
He stood up and went over to the window. Birch was talking with one of the attendants at the petrol station. Then the phone rang. Wallander gave a start. He went into the living room. It rang again. He picked up the receiver.
“Katarina?” asked a woman’s voice.
“She’s not here,” he said. “Who’s calling?”
“Who are you?” asked the woman. “I’m Katarina’s mother.”
“My name is Kurt Wallander. I’m a police officer. Nothing has happened. But Katarina isn’t here. And her baby is gone too.”
“That’s impossible.”
“It seems strange, but she isn’t here. Maybe you have some idea where she might have gone.”
“She wouldn’t have left without telling me.”
Wallander made a quick decision.
“It would be good if you could come over here. I understand you don’t live far away.”
“It’ll take me less than ten minutes,” she replied. “What’s happened?”
He could hear the fear in her voice.
“I’m sure there’s an explanation. We can talk about it when you get here.”
He heard Birch coming in the door as he hung up.
“We’re in luck,” Birch said. “I talked to a man who works at the petrol station. A man who keeps his eyes opened.”
He had made some notes on a piece of paper spotted with oil.
“A red Golf stopped here this morning, sometime between 9 a.m. and 10 a.m. A woman came out the back door of the building. She was carrying a baby. They got into the car.”
Wallander felt the tension rising. “Did he notice who was driving?”
“The driver didn’t get out of the car.”
“So he doesn’t know whether it was a man or woman?”
“I asked him. He gave an interesting answer. He said the car drove off as if a man was behind the wheel.”
Wallander was surprised. “How did he figure that out?”
“Because the car started with a roar and tore off. Women seldom drive that way.”
“Did he notice anything else?”
“No. But maybe he can remember more with a little help. As I said, he seemed very observant.”
Wallander told him that Taxell’s mother was on her way over. Then they stood in silence.