'He has a strange name,' Vera told him. 'He's called Antons. He's 76 years old, and has bladder trouble. He's spent the whole of his life working as a foreman at a printing works. They say old typographers can be affected by some kind of lead poisoning that makes them absent-minded and confused. Sometimes he seems to be living in another world. Maybe he's been affected by the disease.'
They were sitting on the bed in her room again, and she had drawn the door curtain. The girls were whispering and giggling in the tiny kitchen, and he knew the moment had come.
'Do you remember the church where you met Baiba after a concert?' she asked. 'St Gertrude's?' He nodded, he remembered.
'Do you think you could find your way back there?' 'Not from here.'
'But from the Latvia Hotel? From the city centre?' 'Yes, I could.'
'I can't go to the centre of town with you, it's too dangerous. But I don't think anybody suspects you are here in my flat. You must take the bus back to the city centre on your own. Don't get off at the stop outside the hotel - use the one before or the one after. Find the church and wait until 10 p.m. Do you remember the back gate in the churchyard you used when you left the church that first time?'
Wallander nodded. He thought he remembered it, even if he wasn't quite sure.
'Go in through that gate when you're absolutely certain nobody is looking. Wait there. If it's at all possible, Baiba will come to you.'
'How did you contact her?'
'I phoned her.'
Wallander looked sceptical.
'The telephone must be bugged.'
'Of course it's bugged. I called her and said the book she'd ordered had arrived. That meant she knew she should go to a certain bookshop and ask for a certain book. I'd left a note there telling her you had arrived and were in my flat. Some hours later I went to a store where one of Baiba's neighbours usually shops. There was a note from Baiba saying she'd try to get to the church tonight.'
'But what if she can't make it?'
'Then I can't help you any more. You can't come back here either.'
Wallander could see she was right. This was his only chance of meeting Baiba Liepa again. If it didn't work, he had no choice but to find his way to the Swedish Embassy and get help in fleeing the country.
'Do you know where the Swedish Embassy is in Riga?'
She thought for a moment before answering. 'I don't even know if Sweden has an embassy here,' she said.
'There must be a consulate, though?'
'I don't know where.'
'It must be in the telephone directory. Write down the Latvian for Swedish Embassy and Swedish Consulate. There must be a telephone directory in a restaurant. Write the Latvian for telephone directory as well.'
She wrote down what he was asking for on a sheet of paper torn out of one of the girl's exercise books, and taught him the correct pronunciation for the words.
Two hours later he said goodbye to Vera and her family, and set off. She had given him one of her father's old shirts and a scarf, so that he could change his appearance a bit more. He had no idea if he would ever see them again, and he was already beginning to miss them.
As he walked to the bus stop, he saw the dead cat, lying at his feet like an ominous symbol of what was to come.
When he was on the bus he suddenly had the feeling once again that he was being watched already. There were not many passengers going into town in the evening, and he had sat right at the rear of the bus so that he could see everybody's back in front of him. He looked now and then through the filthy back window, but couldn't see a car following them.
Nevertheless, his instinct made him anxious. He couldn't shrug off the feeling that they were tailing him. He tried to work out what to do. He had about a quarter of an hour in which to make up his mind. Where should he get off? How should he go about shaking off the shadows? It seemed an impossible situation, but he suddenly had an idea that was bold enough to have a slight chance of succeeding. He assumed it wasn't just him they were keeping an eye on. It must be at least as important for them to follow him until he met up with Baiba Liepa, and then to wait for the moment when they could be certain of finding the major's testimony.
He ignored the instructions given him by Vera, and got off the bus outside the Latvia Hotel. Without looking round, he strode into the hotel, marched up to the reception desk, and asked if they had a room for one or possibly two nights. He spoke clearly in English, and when the receptionist said they did indeed have a room, he produced his German passport and signed himself in as Gottfried Hegel. He explained that his luggage would be arriving later, and then, in as loud a voice as he dared use without giving the impression he was purposely setting a false trail, he asked to be woken up a few minutes before midnight as he was expecting an important telephone call. He hoped this would give him a start of four hours. As he didn't have any luggage, he accepted the key himself and walked over to the lift. He had been given a room on the fourth floor, and now it was essential for him to act decisively without any hesitation. He tried to remember from his first visit where the back staircase was, and when he got out of the lift on the fourth floor he knew straight away where to go. He went down into the gloom of back staircase and hoped they hadn't had time to put guards round the whole hotel. He went right down to the basement and found his way to the door that opened out on to the rear of the hotel. Just for a moment he was afraid it might not be possible to open the door without a key, but he was lucky. The key was in the lock. He stepped out into the murky back street, stood absolutely still for couple of seconds and looked around. It was deserted, and he couldn't hear any hurried footsteps. He kept close to the walls, turned off into side streets, and didn't stop running until he was at least three blocks from the hotel. He was out of breath by then and withdrew into a doorway while he got his breath back to see if he was being followed. He tried to imagine how, at this very moment in some other part of the city, Baiba
Liepa was also trying to shake off the dogs that one of the colonels had put on her tail. He had no doubt she would succeed, because her tutor had been one of the best, the major himself.
He managed to find his way to St Gertrude's church just before 10 p.m. There was no light coming from the church's enormous windows, and he found a nearby yard where he could wait unseen. Somewhere inside the building he could hear people quarrelling, a long, relentless flood of excited words culminating in a loud noise, a scream and then silence. He stamped his feet in order to keep warm, and tried to remember what date it was. From time to time a car drove past in the street outside, and he half expected one of them to stop and for the passengers to find him hiding among the dustbins.
The feeling that they already knew where he was kept returning, and he wondered if his attempt to break free by registering at the Latvia Hotel had failed. Had he made a mistake in assuming that Vera wasn't in the pay of the colonels? Perhaps they were waiting for him in the shadows of the churchyard, waiting for the moment when the major's testimony would be revealed? He pushed the thought away. His only alternative would be to flee to the Swedish Embassy, and he knew he couldn't do that.
The clock in the church tower struck 10 p.m. He emerged from the yard, looked carefully for any sign of life in the street, and hurried over to the little iron gate. Although he opened it extremely carefully, there was a slight squeaking noise. A few street lamps cast a faint glow over the churchyard wall. He stood absolutely still, listening. Not a sound. He cautiously walked along the path to the side door he had used last time to leave the church with Baiba. Once again he had the feeling he was being watched, that his pursuers were somewhere ahead of him, but he continued as far as the church wall, then settled down to wait.
Without a sound, Baiba Liepa appeared by his side, as if she had materialised out of the darkness. He gave a start when he saw her. She whispered something he didn't catch, then led him quickly through the door that was standing ajar, and he realised she had been inside the church, waiting for him. She locked the door with the enormous key, and went over to the altar. It was very dark inside the church, and she led him by the hand as if he were blind, he couldn't understand how she could find her way through the darkness. Behind the sacristy was a windowless storeroom, and a paraffin lamp was standing on a table. That was where she had been waiting for him, her fur coat was lying over a chair, and he was surprised and touched to note that she had placed a photograph of the major next to the lamp. There was also a thermos flask, some apples and a hunk of bread. It was as if she had invited him to the last supper, and he wondered how long it would be before the colonels tracked them down. He
