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“What about?”

“Do we really have to be out here in the street?” Widén said.

“It’s just that I’m worried,” Wallander said.

“On Sofia’s account?”

“No, Kurt Ström’s.”

“Who the hell is he?”

“We’d better go inside,” Wallander said. “You’re right, we can’t stand out here in the cold.”

As they went up the stairs Wallander noticed that Widén smelled of strong drink. He had better have a serious talk with him about that—one of these days after they had resolved who killed the two lawyers.

They sat at the kitchen table, with Baiba’s letter still lying there between them.

“Who’s this Ström?” Widén asked again.

“Later,” Wallander said. “You first. Sofia?”

“She phoned about an hour ago,” Widén said, making a face. “I couldn’t understand what she was saying at first. She was off her rocker.”

“Where was she calling from?”

“From her apartment at the stables.”

“Oh, shit!”

“I don’t think she had much choice,” Widén said, scratching his stubble. “If I understood her correctly, she had been out riding. Suddenly she comes across a dummy lying on the path ahead of her. Have you heard about the dummies? Life-size?”

“She told me,” Wallander said. “Go on.”

“The horse stopped and refused to go past. Sofia dismounted to pull the dummy out of the way. Only it wasn’t a dummy.”

“Oh, hell!” said Wallander slowly.

“You sound as if you already know about it,” Widén said.

“I’ll explain later. Go on.”

“It was a man lying there. Covered in blood.”

“Was he dead?”

“It didn’t occur to me to ask. I assumed so.”

“What next?”

“She rode away and phoned me.”

“What did you tell her to do?”

“I don’t know if it was the best advice, but I told her to do nothing, to sit tight.”

“Good,” Wallander said. “You did exactly the right thing.”

Widén excused himself and went to the bathroom. Wallander could hear the faint clinking of a bottle. When he came back Wallander told him about Ström.

“So you think he was the one there on the path?” Widén said.

“I’m afraid so.”

Widén suddenly boiled over, and smashed his fist down on the table. Baiba Liepa’s letter fluttered down to the floor.

“The police had goddamn better get out there right away! What the hell’s going on at that castle? I’m not letting Sofia stay there a moment longer.”

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do,” Wallander said, getting to his feet.

“I’m going home,” Widén said. “Call me as soon as you’ve got Sofia out of there.”

“No,” Wallander said. “You’re staying here. You’ve been drinking the hard stuff. I’m not going to let you drive. You can sleep here.”

Widén stared at Wallander as if he did not know what he was talking about. “Are you suggesting that I’m drunk?” he said.

“Not drunk, but you’re over the limit. I don’t want you getting into trouble.”

Widén had left his car keys on the table. Wallander put them in his pocket. “Just to be on the safe side,” he said. “I don’t want you changing your mind while I’m gone.”

“You must be out of your mind,” Widén said. “I’m not drunk.”

“We can argue about that when I get back,” Wallander said. “I’ve got to go this very minute.”

“I don’t give a shit about your Kurt Ström,” Widén said, “but I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“I take it she’s more than just a stablehand to you,” Wallander said.

“Yes,” Widén said. “But that’s not why I don’t want anything to happen.”

“That has nothing to do with me,” Wallander said.

“Exactly right. It doesn’t.”

Wallander found a pair of unused sneakers in his closet. Many times he had vowed to start jogging, but had never gotten around to it. He put on a thick sweater and a woollen cap, and was ready to leave.

“Make yourself at home,” he said to Widén, who had openly planted his whiskey bottle on the kitchen table.

“You worry about Sofia, not about me,” Widén said.

Wallander closed the door behind him, then paused on the dark staircase, wondering what to do. If Ström was dead, everything had failed. He felt as if he was back to where he had been the previous year, when death was waiting in the fog. The men at Farnholm Castle were dangerous, whether they smiled like Harderberg or skulked in the shadows like Tolpin and Obadia.

I’ve got to get Sofia out of there, he thought. I must call Björk and organize an emergency team. We’ll bring in every police district in Skåne if we have to.

He switched on the light and ran down the stairs. He called Björk from his car, but as soon as Björk answered he turned off the phone.

I have to figure this out myself, he thought. I don’t want any more dead bodies.

He drove to the police station and got his handgun and a flashlight. He went to Svedberg’s deserted office and turned on the light, then trawled through papers until he found the map of the Farnholm Castle grounds. He folded it and put it in his pocket. When he left the station it was 7:45. He drove to Malmövägen and stopped at Höglund’s house. He rang the bell, and her husband opened the door. He declined the offer to go inside, saying that he only wanted to leave her a message. When she came to the door she was in a robe.

“Listen carefully,” he said. “I’m going to break into Farnholm Castle.”

“Ström?” she said.

“I think he’s dead.”

She turned pale and Wallander wondered if she was going to faint.

“You can’t go to the castle on your own,” she said, when she had recovered her composure.

“I have to.”

“Why do you have to?”

“I have to figure this out myself,” he said, annoyed. “Please stop asking questions. Just listen.”

“I’m going with you,” she said. “You can’t go there by yourself.”

She had made up her mind. There was no point in arguing with her.

“All right, you can come,” he said, “but you’ll wait outside. I could use somebody I can be in radio contact with.”

She ran up the stairs. Her husband ushered Wallander in and closed the door.

“This is what she warned me would happen,” he said with a smile. “When I get back home, she’s the one who’ll be going out on business.”

“This probably won’t take very long,” Wallander said, though he could hear how lame the words sounded.

A couple of minutes later she came back down wearing a tracksuit.

“Don’t wait up for me,” she said to her husband.

Nobody to wait up for me, Wallander thought. Nobody. Not even a dozing cat among the plant pots on a window ledge.

They drove to the police station and got two radios.

“Maybe I should get a gun,” she said.

“No,” Wallander said. “You’ll wait outside the perimeter. And you’d better do exactly as I say.”

They left Ystad behind. It was a clear, cold night. Wallander was driving fast.

“What are you going to do?” she said.

“I’m going to find out what happened.”

She can see through me, he thought. She knows I don’t have a clue what I’m going to do.

They continued in silence and reached the turnoff to Farnholm Castle at about 9:30. Wallander drove into a parking place reserved for tractors and switched off his engine and also the lights. They sat there in the dark.

“I’ll be in touch every hour,” Wallander said. “If you hear nothing for more than two hours, call Björk and tell him to organize a full emergency team.”