He ended up standing there for a long time before he returned to the hotel and had breakfast. At nine o'clock he was outside the hotel entrance, waiting. The patrol car arrived after several minutes. Traffic was heavy and the sirens were on as usual. Wallander crossed the Nile for the fourth time. He saw now that he was in a huge metropolis, incalculable, clamorous.
The court was on a street by the name of Al Azhar. Radwan was standing on the steps, smoking, as the car pulled up.
'I hope you had a few hours of sleep,' he said. 'It is not good for a person to go without sleep.'
They walked into the building.
'Your father is already here.'
'Does he have a defence lawyer?' Wallander asked.
'He has a court-assigned assistant. This is a court for minor offences.'
'But he could still receive two years in prison?'
'There is a big difference between a death sentence and two years,' Radwan said thoughtfully.
They walked into the courtroom. Some cleaners were walking around, dusting.
'Your father's case is the first of the day,' Radwan said.
Then his father was led in. Wallander stared horrified at him. His father was in handcuffs. Tears welled up in Wallander's eyes. Radwan glanced at him and put a hand on his shoulder.
A lone judge walked in and sat down. A prosecutor seemed to appear out of thin air and rattled off a long tirade that Wallander assumed to be the charges. Radwan leaned over.
'It looks good,' he whispered. 'He claims that your father is old and confused.'
As long as no one translates that, Wallander thought. Then he really will go crazy.
The prosecutor sat down. The court assistant made a very brief statement.
'He is making the case for a fine,' Radwan whispered. 'I have informed the court that you are here, that you are his son and that you are a policeman.'
The assistant sat down. Wallander saw that his father wanted to say something. But the court assistant shook his head.
The judge struck the table with his gavel and uttered a few words.
Then he banged the gavel again, got up and left.
'A fine,' Radwan said and patted Wallander on the shoulder. 'It can be paid here in the courtroom. Then your father is free to go.'
Wallander took out the bag inside his shirt.
Radwan led him to a table where a man calculated the sum from British pounds into Egyptian pounds. Almost all of Wallander's money disappeared. He received an illegible receipt for the amount. Radwan made sure his father's handcuffs were removed.
'I hope that the rest of your journey is pleasant,' Radwan said and shook both their hands. 'But it is not advisable for your father to attempt to climb the pyramids again.'
Radwan had a patrol car take them back to the hotel. Wallander made a note of Radwan's address. He realised that this would not have been so easy without Radwan's help. In some way he wanted to thank him. Perhaps it would be most appropriate to send him a painting with a wood grouse?
His father was in high spirits and commented on everything that they drove past. Wallander was simply tired.
'Now I will show you the pyramids,' his father said happily when they reached the hotel.
'Not right now,' Wallander said. 'I need to sleep for a few hours. You too. Then we'll look at the pyramids. When I've booked my return flight.'
His father looked intently at him.
'I must say that you surprise me. That you spared no expense in flying out here and getting me out. I would not have thought that of you.'
Wallander did not answer.
'Go to bed,' he said. 'I'll meet you here at two o'clock.'
Wallander did not manage to fall asleep. After writhing on his bed for an hour he went to the reception desk and asked them for help in booking his return flight. He was directed to a travel agency located in another part of the hotel. There he was assisted by an unbelievably beautiful woman who spoke perfect English. She managed to get him a seat on the plane that was leaving Cairo the following day, the eighteenth of December, at nine o'clock. Since the plane only stopped in Frankfurt, he would already be in Kastrup at two o'clock that afternoon. After he had confirmed his seat, it was only one o'clock. He sat down in a cafe next to the lobby and drank some water and a cup of very hot coffee that was much too sweet. At exactly two o'clock his father appeared. He was wearing his pith helmet.
Together they explored the Giza plateau in the intense heat. Wallander thought several times that he was going to faint. But his father seemed unaffected by the heat. Down by the Sphinx Wallander at last found some shade. His father narrated and Wallander realised that he knew a great deal about the Egypt of old where the pyramids and the remarkable Sphinx had once been built.
It was close to six o'clock when they finally returned to the hotel. Since he was travelling very early the next morning they decided to eat dinner in the hotel, where there were several restaurants to choose from. At his father's suggestion they booked a table at an Indian restaurant and Wallander thought afterwards that he had rarely had such a good meal. His father had been pleasant the entire time and Wallander understood that he had now dismissed all thoughts of climbing the pyramids.
They parted at eleven. Wallander would be leaving the hotel at six.
'Of course I'll get up and see you off,' his father said.
'I'd rather you didn't,' Wallander said. 'Neither of us likes goodbyes.'
'Thank you for coming here,' his father said. 'You're probably right about it being hard to spend two years in prison without being able to paint.'
'Come home on the twenty-first and everything will be forgotten,' Wallander answered.
'The next time we'll go to Italy,' his father said and walked away towards his room.
That night Wallander slept heavily. At six o'clock he sat in the taxi and crossed the Nile for the sixth and hopefully final time. The plane left at the assigned time and he landed in Kastrup on time. He took a taxi to the ferries and was in Malmö at a quarter to four. He ran to the station and just made a train to Ystad. He walked home to Mariagatan, changed his clothes and walked in through the front doors of the station at half past six. The damaged hinge had been replaced. Björk knows where to set his priorities, he thought grimly. Martinsson's and Svedberg's offices were empty, but Hansson was in. Wallander told him about his trip in broad strokes. But first he asked how Rydberg was doing.
'He's supposed to be coming in tomorrow,' Hansson said. 'That was what Martinsson said.'
Wallander immediately felt relieved. Apparently it had not been as serious as they had feared.
'And here?' he asked. 'The investigation?'
'There has been another important development,' Hansson said. 'But that has to do with the plane that crashed.'
'What is it?'
'Yngve Leonard Holm has been found murdered. In the woods outside Sjöbo.'
Wallander sat down.
'But that isn't all,' Hansson said. 'He hasn't only been murdered. He was shot in the back of the head, just like the Eberhardsson sisters.'
Wallander held his breath.
He had not expected this. That a connection would suddenly appear between the crashed plane and the two murdered women who had been found in the remains of a devastating fire.
He looked at Hansson.
What does it mean, he thought. What is the significance of what Hansson is telling me?
All at once the trip to Cairo felt very distant.
CHAPTER 9
At ten o'clock in the morning on the nineteenth of December, Wallander called the bank and asked if he could increase his loan by another twenty thousand kronor. He lied and said he had misheard the price of the car he intended to buy. The bank loan officer replied that it shouldn't present any difficulties. Wallander could come by and sign the loan documents and collect the money the same day. After Wallander hung up the phone, he called Arne, who was selling him the car, and arranged for him to deliver the new Peugeot to Mariagatan at one o'clock. Arne would also either try to bring the old one to life or tow it back to his garage.