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“Is that really important?” Svedberg said.

“It might be,” Wallander said. “And in any case, it won’t take long. Have you spoken to Hanson?”

“Only briefly,” Svedberg said. “He’s with Martinsson at the moment, going through the investigation material.”

“Give him the job, it’s about right as something for him to start with.”

Svedberg left. It was 4:00 and Widén still had not called. Wallander went to the cloakroom after asking reception to make a note of any incoming calls. He found an evening paper in the bathroom and leafed through it, his mind elsewhere. He was back at his desk and had snapped twelve paper clips by the time Widén eventually called.

“I’ve invented a pack of lies,” he said, “but you can meet her in Simrishamn an hour from now. I told her to take a taxi and that you’d pay. There’s a café on the hill leading down to the harbor. Do you know the one I mean?”

Wallander did.

“She hasn’t got much time,” Widén said. “Take some forms with you so that she can pretend to fill them in.”

“Do you think she’s under suspicion?”

“How the hell should I know?”

“Thanks for your help anyway.”

“You’ll have to give her money for her taxi back to the castle as well.”

“I’ll leave right away,” Wallander said.

“What happened?” Widén said.

“I’ll tell you when I know,” Wallander said. “I’ll phone.”

Wallander left the police station at exactly 5 p.m. When he got to Simrishamn he parked by the harbor and walked up the hill to the café. As he had hoped, she was not there yet. He crossed the road and continued up the street. He stopped to look in a store window while keeping an eye on the café. Not more than five minutes passed before he saw her coming up the street from the harbor, where she must have left the taxi. She went into the café. Wallander scrutinized the passersby, and when he was as sure as he could be that she was not being followed, he went into the café. He should have taken somebody with him, to keep a lookout. She was sitting at a table in the corner. She watched him approach her table without greeting him.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said.

“So am I,” she said. “What do you want? I have to get back to the castle as quickly as possible. Aren’t you going to pay for the taxi?”

Wallander took out his wallet and gave her a 500-kronor bill. “Is that enough?” he asked.

She shook her head. “I need a thousand,” she said.

“What? It costs a thousand kronor to get to Simrishamn and back?” He gave her another 500-kronor bill, thinking that she was probably conning him. He was annoyed, but there was no time for that.

“What would you like?” he said. “Or have you already ordered?”

“I wouldn’t mind a coffee,” she said. “And a bun.”

Wallander went to the counter and ordered. When he paid he asked for a receipt. He went back to the table with his tray.

Sofia was looking at him with an expression which Wallander recognized as being full of contempt.

“Roger Lundin,” she said. “I don’t know what your real name is, and I don’t care either. But it’s not Roger Lundin. And you’re a policeman.”

Wallander thought he may as well tell her the truth. “You’re right, I’m not Roger Lundin. And I am a police officer. But you don’t need to know my real name.”

“Why not?”

“Because I say so,” Wallander said, making it clear that he would brook no discussion. She noticed his attitude changed toward her, and she regarded him with something that might even be of interest.

“Listen carefully,” Wallander said. “One day I’ll explain to you why all this secrecy stuff is necessary. For now all I will say is that I’m a police officer investigating a vicious murder. Just so you realize this isn’t a game. OK?”

“Perhaps,” she said.

“Right now you’re going to answer some questions,” Wallander said. “And then you can go back to the castle.”

He remembered the forms he had in his pocket. He put them on the table and passed her a pen.

“It could be that somebody’s following you,” he said. “That’s why you’re now going to fill in these forms. Pretend this is what our meeting is about. Write your name at the top.”

“Who’s following me?” she said, looking around the café.

“Look at me,” Wallander snapped. “Don’t look anywhere else. If there is anybody following you we can be very sure he can see you and that you won’t see him.”

“How do you know it’s a man?”

“I don’t.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“Drink your coffee, eat your bun, fill in the form, and look at me,” Wallander said. “If you don’t do as I say I’ll make damn sure you never get back to Widén again.”

She seemed to believe him. She did as she was told.

“Why do you think they’re planning to move out of the castle?” he said.

“I was told I’d only be working there for a month, and that would be it. They’re leaving the castle.”

“Who told you that?”

“A man came to the stables.”

“What did he look like?”

“He was sort of black.”

“A black man?”

“No, but he was wearing dark clothes and had black hair.”

“A foreigner?”

“He spoke Swedish.”

“With a foreign accent?”

“Could be.”

“Do you know his name?”

“No.”

“Do you know what he does?”

“No.”

“But he works at the castle?”

“I suppose he must do.”

“What else did he say?”

“I didn’t like him. In fact, he was horrible.”

“In what way?”

“He wandered about the stables, watching me grooming one of the horses. He asked me where I was from.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I’d applied for the job because I couldn’t stay on with Sten.”

“Did he ask anything else?”

“No.”

“Why was he horrible?”

She thought before answering. “He asked questions in a way that made it seem he didn’t want me to notice he was asking anything.”

“Have you met anybody else?”

“Only the woman who took me on.”

“Anita Karlén.”

“I think that was her name, yes.”

“Nobody else?”

“No.”

“Is there nobody else looking after the horses?”

“No, only me. Two horses aren’t much of a problem.”

“Who looked after them before?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did they say why they suddenly needed a new stable girl?”

“The Karlén woman said something about somebody being sick.”

“But you didn’t meet them?”

“No.”

“What else have you seen?”

“What do you mean?”

“You must have seen other people. Cars coming or going.”

“The stables are set apart, out of the way. I can only see one of the gables. The paddock is further away in the other direction. And anyway, I’m not allowed to go to the castle itself.”

“Who told you that?”

“Anita Karlén. I’d be fired on the spot if I broke any rule. And I have to phone and get permission if I want to leave the castle.”

“Where did the taxi pick you up?”

“At the gates.”

“Is there anything else that you think might be of interest to me?”

“How do I know what you’re interested in?”

He sensed that there was something else, but that she wasn’t sure whether to mention it or not. He paused for a moment before going on, cautiously, as if he were feeling his way in the dark.

“Let’s go back a bit,” he said. “To that man who came to see you in the stables. Did he say anything else?”