take Konovalenko on, thought Svedberg, and he could feel a lump in his stomach. There was nothing they could do but keep watching. Sten Widen had taken aim with his rifle, pointing it at the front door. Wallander ducked down as he passed the windows and ran as far as the front door. Svedberg could see he was listening. Then he cautiously tried the handle. The door was unlocked. Without hesitation he flung it open and rushed in. At the same time Sten Widen and Svedberg crawled out of the haystack.
They had not agreed what to do next; they just knew they had to follow Wallander. They ran up to the corner of the house and took cover. It was still deathly silent in the house. Svedberg suddenly realized why he had been uneasy.
The house was deserted. There was nobody there.
“They’ve moved out,” he said to Sten Widen. “There’s nobody there.”
Sten Widen stared at him in disbelief.
“How do you know?”
“I just know,” answered Svedberg, stepping out of the shadow of the wall.
He shouted Wallander’s name.
Wallander came out onto the steps. He did not seem surprised to see them.
“She’s gone,” he said.
They could see he was very tired. It was possible he had already passed the limit of being so exhausted, he might collapse at any moment.
They entered the house and tried to interpret the clues. Sten Widen kept in the background while Svedberg and Wallander searched the house. Wallander did not refer to their having followed him to the house. Svedberg suspected he knew deep down they would not abandon him. Perhaps he was even grateful, in fact?
It was Svedberg who found Tania. He opened the door to one of the bedrooms, and looked at the unmade bed. Without knowing why, he bent down and peered under it. There she was. For one brief, horrible moment he thought it was Wallander’s daughter. Then he saw it was the other woman. Before telling the others what he had found, he quickly checked under the other beds. He looked in the refrigerator and all the closets. Only when he was certain Wallander’s daughter was not lying hidden somewhere did he attract their attention. They moved the bed to one side. Wallander was standing in the background. When he saw her head he turned on his heel, rushed out of the house and threw up.
She had no face left. Just a bloody mass where it was impossible to pick out any features. Svedberg got a towel and laid it over her face. Then he examined the body. There were five bullet wounds. They formed a pattern, and that made him feel even worse than he did already. She had been shot in both feet, then in her hands, and finally through the heart.
They left her, and continued going through the house in silence. Neither of them said a word. They opened the cellar, and went down. Svedberg managed to hide the chain which he assumed had been used to tie up Wallander’s daughter. But Wallander knew she had been kept down there in the darkness. Svedberg could see him biting his lips. He wondered how much longer Wallander could keep going. They went back to the kitchen. Svedberg discovered a big cauldron full of blood-colored water. When he stuck his finger in, he could feel traces of lingering heat. It was slowly dawning on him what had happened. He went through the house one more time, slowly, trying to follow up the various clues, make them reveal what had happened.
In the end, he proposed they should all sit down. Wallander was almost apathetic by this stage. Svedberg thought long and deep. Did he dare? The responsibility was enormous. But in the end he resolved to go ahead.
“I don’t know where your daughter is,” he said. “But she’s still alive. I’m sure of that.”
Wallander looked at him without saying anything.
“I think this is what happened,” Svedberg went on. “I can’t be sure, of course. But I’m trying to interpret the clues, piece them together, and see what kind of a story they tell. I think the dead woman tried to help your daughter to escape. I don’t know whether or not she managed it. Maybe she got away, maybe Konovalenko stopped her? There are signs suggesting both possibilities. He killed Tania in such a sadistic fury, we might think your daughter must have escaped. But it could also be a reaction to the fact that she even tried to help Linda. Tania let him down, and that was enough to trigger off his evil tendencies, which seem to be limitless. He scalded her face with boiling water. Then he shot her in the feet, that was for the escape, and then in the hands and finally through the heart. I would prefer not to try and imagine what her last hour in this life was like. Afterward, he left. That is another indication that your daughter has escaped. If she managed to get away, Konovalenko could no longer regard the house as safe. But it could also be that Konovalenko was afraid somebody might have heard the shooting. That’s what I think happened. But of course, it could all have been quite different.”
It was seven o’clock by now. Nobody said a word.
Svedberg stood up and went to the telephone. He called Martinson, and had to wait as he was in the bathroom.
“Do me a favor,” he said. “Drive to the railroad station in Tomelilla and meet me there in an hour. And don’t tell anybody where you’re going.”
“Are you going crazy as well?” asked Martinson.
“On the contrary,” said Svedberg. “This is important.”
He hung up and looked at Wallander.
“Right now there’s nothing you can do apart from getting some sleep. Go home with Sten. Or else we could take you to your father’s.”
“How could I possibly sleep?” asked Wallander as if in a dream.
“By lying down,” said Svedberg. “You’d better do as I say now. If you’re going to be in a position to help your daughter, you must get some sleep. In the state you’re in now you’d only be a nuisance.”
Wallander nodded.
“I think I’d better go to my dad’s place,” he said.
“Where did you leave the car?” asked Sten Widen.
“Let me go and get it,” said Wallander. “I need some air.”
He went out. Svedberg and Sten Widen stared at each other, too weary and upset to talk.
“I sure am glad I’m not a cop,” said Sten Widen as the Duett trundled into the courtyard. He nodded towards the room where Tania was.
“Thanks for your help,” said Svedberg.
He watched them drive away.
He wondered when the nightmare would end.
Sten Widen stopped the car to drop off Wallander. They had not exchanged a single word during the journey.
“I’ll be in touch before the day’s over,” said Sten Widen.
He watched Wallander making his way slowly towards the house.
Poor devil, he thought. How much longer can he keep going?
His father was sitting at the kitchen table. He was unshaven, and Wallander could smell that he needed a bath. He sat down opposite him.
Neither of them said anything for a long time.
“She’s asleep,” his father said eventually.
Wallander hardly heard what he said.
“She’s sleeping calmly,” repeated his father.
The words slowly penetrated Wallander’s befuddled head.
“Who is?” he asked wearily.
“I’m talking about my granddaughter,” said his father.
Wallander stared at him. For ages. Then he slowly got to his feet and went to the bedroom. Slowly, he opened the door.
Linda was in bed, asleep. Her hair was cropped on one side of her head. But it was her all right. Wallander stood motionless in the doorway. Then he walked over to the bed and squatted down. He did nothing, just looked. He did not want to know what had happened, he did not know what had taken place or how she had got home. He just wanted to look at her. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that Konovalenko was still out there. But just for the moment, he didn’t care about Konovalenko. Right now she was the only person who existed.
He lay down on the floor beside her bed. He curled up and went to sleep. His father put a blanket over him
