“What sort of horses are they?” she asked.
Widén looked at Wallander, who could only shrug his shoulders.
“I don’t suppose they’ll be Ardennes,” Widén said. “What the hell does it matter? It’s only going to be temporary. Besides, you’d be helping Roger here, who’s a friend of mine. He’d like you to keep your eyes peeled and see what goes on there at the castle. Nothing special, just keeping your eyes open.”
“What’s the money like?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” Wallander said.
“It’s a castle, for God’s sake,” Widén said. “Stop being awkward.”
He disappeared into the living room and came back with the paper. Wallander found the ad.
“Interview,” he said. “Applicants should phone first.”
“We can fix that,” Widén said. “I’ll drive you there tonight.”
She suddenly looked up from the plastic tablecloth and stared Wallander in the eye.
“What sort of horses are they?” she asked.
“I really have no idea,” Wallander said.
She cocked her head to one side. “I think you’re the police,” she said.
“What on earth makes you think that?” Wallander said, astonished.
“I can feel it.”
Widén interrupted her. “His name’s Roger. That’s all you need to know. Don’t ask so many goddamn stupid questions. Try to look relatively respectable when we go there tonight. Wash your hair, for instance. And don’t forget that Winter’s Moon needs a bandage on her left hind leg.”
She left the kitchen without another word.
“You can see for yourself,” Widén said. “She’s nobody’s fool.”
“Thanks for your help,” Wallander said. “Let’s hope she pulls it off.”
“I’ll drive her over. That’s the best I can do.”
“Call me at home,” Wallander said. “I need to know right away if she gets the job.”
They went out to Wallander’s car.
“I sometimes feel so goddamned tired of this whole business,” Widén said.
“It would be nice if we could have our time over again,” Wallander said.
“I sometimes say to myself, is that all it was? Life, that is. A few arias, tons of third-rate horses, constant money problems.”
“Come on, it’s not all that bad, is it?”
“Convince me.”
“We have a reason to meet more often now. We can talk about it.”
“She hasn’t got the job yet.”
“I know,” Wallander said. “Call me tonight.”
He got into his car, nodded to Widén, and drove off. It was still early in the day. He made up his mind to pay another visit.
Half an hour later he parked in a no-parking area in the narrow street behind the Continental Hotel and walked to Mrs. Dunér’s little pink house. He was surprised to see no sign of a police car in the vicinity. What had happened to the protection Mrs. Dunér was supposed to be receiving? He grew annoyed and worried at the same time. He rang the doorbell. He would get after Björk immediately.
The door opened a fraction, but when Mrs. Dunér saw who it was, she seemed genuinely pleased.
“I apologize for not having phoned in advance,” he said.
“It’s always a pleasure to welcome Inspector Wallander,” she said.
He accepted her offer of a cup of coffee, even though he knew he had drunk too much coffee already. While she was busy in the kitchen Wallander took another look at her back garden. The lawn had been repaired. He wondered if she was expecting the police to provide her with another phone directory.
In this investigation everything seems to have happened a long time ago, he thought, and yet it’s only been a few days since I threw the directory at the lawn and watched the garden explode.
She brought in the coffee, and he sat on the flower-patterned sofa.
“I didn’t see a police car outside when I arrived,” he said.
“Sometimes they’re here, sometimes they’re not,” Mrs. Dunér said.
“I’ll look into it,” Wallander promised.
“Is it really necessary?” she said. “Do you really think somebody is trying to harm me?”
“You know what happened to your employers. I don’t believe anything else is going to happen, but we have to take all the precautions we can.”
“I wish I could make sense of it all,” she said.
“That’s why I’m here,” Wallander said. “You’ve had time to do some thinking. Often one needs to let a little time pass before things become clear, to let your memory warm up.”
“I have tried. Day and night.”
“Let’s go back a few years,” Wallander said. “To when Gustaf Torstensson was first offered the opportunity to work for Alfred Harderberg. Did you ever meet him?”
“No, never.”
“You spoke to him on the phone?”
“Not even that. It was always one of the secretaries who called.”
“It must have been a big deal for the firm to get a client like that.”
“Oh yes, of course. We began to earn much more money than we ever had before. We were able to renovate the whole building.”
“Even if you never met or spoke to Harderberg, you must have formed some idea of what he was like. I know you have a good memory.”
She thought before answering. Wallander watched a magpie hopping around the garden while he waited.
“Everything was always urgent,” she said. “Whenever he called Mr. Torstensson, everything else had to be put to aside.”
“Mr. Torstensson must have discussed his client now and then,” he said. “Told you about his visits to the castle.”
“I think he was very impressed. And also fearful of making a mistake. That was very important. I remember him saying several times that mistakes were forbidden.”
“What do you think he meant by that?”
“That if that happened Harderberg would go to another law firm.”
“Weren’t you curious about Harderberg, and about the castle?”
“I wondered what it was like, of course. But he never said much. He was impressed, but reticent. I remember he once said that Sweden should be grateful for all the things D.r Harderberg was doing.”
“He never said anything negative about him?”
“Yes, he did, actually. I remember because it only happened once.”
“What did he say?”
“I can tell you word for word. He said: ‘Dr. Harderberg has a macabre sense of humor.’”
“What do you suppose he meant by that?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask, and he didn’t explain.”
“When was this?”
“About a year ago.”
“In what context did he say it?”
“He had just come back from Farnholm Castle. One of the regular meetings. I don’t remember it being anything out of the ordinary.”
Wallander could see he wasn’t going to get any further on that tack.
“Let’s talk about something completely different,” he said. “When a lawyer’s working, there’s always a lot of paper around. But we hear from the representatives of the Bar Council that there’s very little in the files concerning the work Mr. Torstensson did for Harderberg.”
“I was expecting that question,” she said. “There were very special routines as far as work for Dr. Harderberg was concerned. The only documents kept were the ones a lawyer regards as essential. We had strict instructions not to copy or save anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. Mr. Torstensson took all the documents he worked on back to Farnholm Castle. That’s why there’s so little in the archives.”
“That must have seemed very odd to you.”
“The reason given was that Dr. Harderberg’s affairs were extremely sensitive. I had no reason not to accept that, so long as no rules were broken.”
“I understand that Mr. Torstensson gave financial advice,” Wallander said. “Can you remember any details?”