rented a cottage in the Vasterbotten mountains. Eventually she asked him what he was up to.
'I'm chasing a Silk Knight,' he said.
'A Silk Knight?'
'One of these days I'll explain to you what a Silk Knight is.'
'It sounds very attractive.'
'But it isn't. I'm a police officer. We seldom chase anybody or anything attractive.'
*
Still nothing happened. On Thursday, December 9, Wallander was well on the way to giving up. The next day he would suggest to Akeson that they should start looking at some other leads.
But on Friday, December 10, something actually did happen. He did not know it at the time, but the wilderness days were over. When Wallander got to his office, there was a note on his desk asking him to phone Kurt Strom without delay. He hung up his jacket, sat at his desk and dialled the number. Strom answered immediately.
'I want to see you,' he said,
'Here or at your home?' Wallander asked.
'Neither,' Strom said. 'I've got a cottage in Svartavagen in Sandskogen. Number 12. Can you be there in an hour?'
'I'll be there.'
Wallander put down the receiver and looked out of the window. Then he stood up, put on his jacket and hurried out of the police station.
Chapter 16
Rain clouds scudded across the sky.
Wallander was nervous. Leaving the police station he had headed east, turned right down Jaktpaviljongsvagen and stopped when he came to the youth hostel. Despite the cold and the wind he walked down to the deserted beach. He felt as if he had been transported back a few months in time. The beach was Jutland and Skagen, and he was once more on patrol, pacing up and down his territory.
But that feeling passed just as quickly as it had come. He had no time for unnecessary daydreams. He tried to work out why Strom had made contact with him. His restlessness was due to the hope that Strom might be able to give him something that would lead to the breakthrough they so badly needed. But he knew that was wishful thinking. Strom not only hated him personally, he had no time at all for the force that had cast him out. They could not count on receiving help from Strom. Wallander had no idea what the man wanted.
It started raining. The raging wind sent him retreating to his car. He started the engine and turned up the heat. A woman walked past with her dog, heading for the beach. Wallander recalled the woman he kept seeing on the beach at Skagen. There was still almost half an hour to go before he was due to meet Strom in Svartavagen. He drove slowly back towards town and inspected the summer cottages at Sandskogen. He had no difficulty in identifying the red house Strom had described. He parked and walked into the little garden. The house looked like a magnified doll's house. It was in a poor state of repair. As there was no car outside, Wallander thought he must have got there first. But the front door opened and Strom was standing there.
'I didn't see a car,' Wallander said. 'I thought you hadn't come yet.'
'But I had. You can forget about my car.'
Wallander went in as bidden. He was met by a faint smell of apples. The curtains were drawn and the furniture was covered by white dust sheets.
'A nice house you have here,' Wallander said.
'Who said it was mine?' Strom said, taking off two of the sheets.
'I have no coffee,' he said. 'You'll have to do without.'
Wallander sat down in one of the chairs. The house felt raw and damp. Strom sat down opposite him. He was wearing a crumpled suit and a long, heavy overcoat.
'You wanted to see me,' Wallander said. 'Well, here I am.'
'I thought we could strike a deal, you and me,' Strom said. 'Let's say that I have something you want.'
'I don't do deals,' Wallander said.
'You're too quick off the mark,' Strom said. 'If I were you I'd at least listen to what I have to say.'
Wallander conceded the point. He should have waited before rejecting the offer. He gestured to Strom to continue.
'I've been off work for a couple of weeks, burying my mother,' he said. 'That gave me a lot of time to think. Not least about why the police were interested in Farnholm Castle. After you'd been to my place I could see of course that you suspected the murder of those two solicitors had something to do with the castle. The problem is simply that I can't understand why. I mean, the son had never been there. It was the old man who was dealing with Harderberg. The one we thought had died in a car accident.'
He looked at Wallander, as if he were waiting for a reaction.
'Go on,' Wallander said.
'When I came back and started work again, I suppose I'd forgotten all about your visit,' he said. 'But then something happened to put it in a new light.'
Strom produced a packet of cigarettes and a lighter from an overcoat pocket. He offered the packet to Wallander, who shook his head.
'If there's one thing I've learned in this life,' Strom said, 'it's that you should keep your friends at arm's length. But you can let your enemies get as close to you as they can.'
'I take it that's why I'm here,' Wallander said.
'Could be,' Strom said. 'You should know that I don't like you, Wallander. As far as I'm concerned you represent the worst kind of upright bourgeois values the Swedish police force is stuffed so full of. But you can do deals with your enemies, or people you don't like. Pretty good deals, even.'
Strom disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a saucer to use as an ashtray. Wallander waited.
'A new light,' Strom said again. 'I came back to find that I was being made redundant as from Christmas. I hadn't expected anything like that. But it was obvious that Harderberg had decided to leave Farnholm.'
It used to be Dr Harderberg, Wallander noted. Now it's plain Harderberg, and he has trouble spitting even that out.
'Needless to say I was shattered,' Strom said. 'When I accepted the job of security chief, I was assured that it was permanent. Nobody mentioned the possibility of Harderberg leaving the place. The wages were good, and I'd bought a house. Now I was going to be out of work again. I didn't like it.'
Wallander had been wrong. It was only possible that Strom had something important to tell him.
'Nobody likes being made redundant,' Wallander said.
'What would you know about that?'
'Not as much as you do, obviously.'
Strom stubbed out his cigarette. 'Let's spell it out,' he said. 'You need inside information about the castle. Information you can't get without advertising the fact that you're interested. And you don't want to do that. If you did you'd have just driven up and demanded an interview with Harderberg. I don't care why you want information without anybody knowing about it. What is important, though, is that I'm the only one who can supply you with it. In exchange for something I want from you.'
Wallander wondered if this was a trap. Was Harderberg pulling Strom's strings? He decided not. Too risky, too easy for Wallander to see through it.
'You're right,' he said. 'There are things I want to know, and without it being noticed. What do you want in return?'
'Very little,' Strom said. 'A piece of paper.'
'A piece of paper?'
'I have to think about my future,' Strom said. 'If I have one, it's not going to be in the private sector security service. When I got the job at Farnholm Castle, I had the impression that it was an advantage to be on bad terms
