“Margareta Nystedt,” he said. “That’s probably the person you’re looking for. She was the only one handling the serving that day for the departure in question.”
Wallander jumped up from his chair. “Where is she now?”
“I don’t actually know. She stopped working for us about a year ago.”
“Damn,” Wallander said.
“But we have her address,” Bergstrand went on. “She might not have moved just because she stopped working for us.”
Wallander grabbed the piece of paper. It was an address in Malmo.
“Carl Gustaf’s Road,” Wallander said. “Where’s that?”
“Near Pildamm Park,” replied Bergstrand.
Wallander saw that there was a phone number, but he decided not to call it. He would go there himself.
“Thanks for your help,” he said to Bergstrand. “Can I count on this information being correct? Was she the only one on duty that day?”
“Swedish Railways is known for its reliability,” said Bergstrand. “That means that we take care to keep track of our employees. Both in the administration and in the subsidiaries.”
Wallander didn’t understand the connection, but he didn’t have time to ask. “Then let’s go,” he said to Birch.
They left the station. Birch went in Wallander’s car. It took them less than ten minutes to find the address. It was a five-storey block of flats. Margareta Nystedt lived on the fifth floor. They took the lift. Wallander rang the bell before Birch was even out of the lift, waited, and then rang again. No answer. He swore to himself, then he made a quick decision. He rang the bell next door. The door opened almost at once. An elderly man gave Wallander a stern look. His shirt was unbuttoned over his paunch and he was holding a betting form.
He took out his identification. “We’re looking for Margareta Nystedt,” he said.
“What has she done?” the man asked. “She’s a very friendly young woman. Her husband too.”
“We just need some information,” Wallander said. “She’s not home. No-one came to the door. Do you happen to know where we could find her?”
“She works on the hydrofoil,” replied the man. “She’s a waitress.”
Wallander looked at Birch.
“Thanks for your help,” said Wallander. “Good luck with the horses.”
Ten minutes later they braked in front of the hydrofoil terminal.
“I don’t think we can park here,” Birch said.
“To hell with it,” said Wallander.
He felt as if he was running, and that everything would fall apart if he stopped. It took them only a few minutes to find out that Margareta Nystedt was working that morning on Springaren. It had just left Copenhagen and was expected to dock in half an hour. Wallander used the time to move his car. Birch sat on a bench in the departure hall and read a tattered newspaper. The terminal manager came over and said they could wait in the staff room. He wondered whether they wanted him to contact the boat.
“How much time does she have?” Wallander asked.
“She’s really supposed to go back to Copenhagen on the next trip.”
“That won’t be possible.”
The man was helpful. He promised to see to it that Margareta Nystedt could stay ashore. Wallander assured him that she wasn’t suspected of any crime. He went out onto the dock as the boat pulled in. The passengers struggled against the wind. Wallander was surprised that so many people were travelling across the Sound on a weekday. He waited impatiently. The last passenger was a man on crutches, and then a woman wearing a uniform came out onto the deck. The manager pointed her out to Wallander. She was blonde, with her hair cropped very short, and she was younger than Wallander had expected. She stopped in front of him and crossed her arms. She was cold.
“Are you the one who wants to talk to me?” she asked.
“Margareta Nystedt?”
“That’s me.”
“Let’s go inside. We don’t have to stand out here freezing.”
“I don’t have much time.”
“More than you think. You’re not going back on the next trip.”
She stopped.
“Why not? Who decided that?”
“I have to talk to you. But you have nothing to worry about.”
He suddenly had a feeling that she was scared. For a brief moment he started to think he was mistaken. That she was the one they were looking for. That he already had the fifth woman at his side, without having met the fourth. Then he realised just as quickly that he was wrong. Margareta Nystedt was young and slender. She wasn’t strong enough. And something about her whole presence told him she wasn’t the murderer.
They went into the terminal building where Birch was waiting, went into the staff room and sat down. The room was empty. Birch introduced himself. She shook hands with him. Her hand was fragile. Like a bird’s foot, Wallander thought to himself.
He studied her face. She was about 27 or 28. Her dress was short, and she had nice legs. She was wearing harsh make-up. He got the impression that she had painted over something on her face that she didn’t like. She was nervous.
“I’m sorry we had to contact you like this,” Wallander said. “But sometimes there are things that can’t wait.”
“Like my boat, for instance,” she replied. Her voice had a strangely hard sound to it. Wallander hadn’t expected that.
“It’s not a problem. I’ve talked to your supervisor about it.”
“What have I done?”
Wallander looked at her thoughtfully. She had no idea why he and Birch were there. There was no doubt about that. The trap door of his doubt creaked and groaned under his feet.
She repeated her question. What had she done?
Wallander glanced at Birch, who was surreptitiously looking at her legs.
“Katarina Taxell,” Wallander said. “Do you know her?”
“I know who she is. Whether I know her is a different story.”
“How did you meet her? What have you had to do with her?”
Suddenly she gave a start. “Has something happened to her?”
“No. Answer my questions.”
“Answer mine! I only have one. Why are you asking me about her?”
Wallander saw that he had been too impatient. He had moved too fast. Her aggression was understandable.
“Nothing has happened to Katarina. And she’s not suspected of committing any crime. Nor are you. But we need to get some information about her. That’s all I can tell you. After you’ve answered my questions, I’ll leave and you can go back to work.”
She gave him a searching look. She was starting to believe him.
“About three years ago you spent time with her. Back then you were working as a waitress on the railway dining cars.”
She seemed surprised that he knew about her past. Wallander had the impression that she was on her guard, which in turn made him sharpen his attention.
“Is that true?”
“Of course it’s true. Why would I deny it?”
“And you knew Katarina Taxell?”
“Yes.”
“How did you meet her?”
“We worked together.”
Wallander gave her a surprised look before he continued.
“Isn’t she a teacher?”
“She was taking a break. That’s when she worked on the train.”
Wallander looked at Birch, who shook his head. He hadn’t heard about this either.
“When was this?”
“In the spring of 1991. I can’t be any more specific than that.”
“And you worked together?”
“Not always. But often.”
“And you also spent time together when you were off?”
“Sometimes. But we weren’t close friends. We had fun. That’s all.”
“When did you last see her?”
“We drifted apart when she stopped waitressing. It wasn’t a close friendship.”
Wallander saw that she was telling the truth. Her wariness was gone.
“Did Katarina have a steady boyfriend during that time?”
“I actually don’t know,” she replied.
“If you worked together and also spent time together, wouldn’t you have known that?”