the gall to show off about it afterwards.
He left his flat around 3 p.m. He drove eastwards until he reached a car park in Nybrostrand, where he waited until there were no other people around. Then he quickly switched to another car he had parked there and drove away.
When he arrived at the nature reserve he saw that he was in luck. There were no other cars around, which meant he didn't have to bother with the fake number plates. It was already 4 p.m. and a Saturday, and so he doubted that anyone else would turn up that evening. He had spent three Saturdays watching the entrance to the nature reserve and had noted the pattern of visitors. Almost no one came in the evening. The few who did always left by 8 p.m. He took his tools out of the boot. He had also packed a few sandwiches and a thermos of tea. He looked around, listened, then disappeared down one of the trails.
When the time was right, he started making his way towards the place. He immediately saw that no one had been there. In the space between the two trees that was the only natural opening into the clearing, he had hung a thin thread. He knelt down to examine it and saw that it was untouched. Then he got out his collapsible shovel and started digging. He went about his task calmly and methodically. The last thing he wanted to do was break out in a sweat, which would increase the risk of his catching a cold. He paused after every eighth shovelful and listened for noises. It took 20 minutes to remove the layer of sod and reach the tarpaulin. Before lifting it aside he smeared some menthol ointment under his nostrils and put on a mask. The three plastic bags were lying undisturbed in the ground. There was no unpleasant odour, which meant they hadn't leaked. He lifted up one of the bags and threw it over his shoulder. His workouts had made him strong. It only took him 10 minutes to carry all three bags to their original location. Then he filled the hole, replaced the layer of sod, and stamped the ground on top until it was flat, pausing from time to time to listen out for sounds.
Next he went to the tree where he had placed the three bags. He unpacked the tablecloth, glasses, and the remains of the rotting food that he had stored in his refrigerator. Then he took the bodies out of the bags. Their wigs were a little yellowed and the bloodstains had taken on a greyish tinge. He put the bodies in their places, breaking and cracking what was necessary so that everything looked like it had when he had taken the picture on Midsummer's Eve. His last touch was to pour a little wine into one of the glasses. He listened. Everything was still.
He folded the bags under his arm, stuffed them into a sack, and left. He had already removed his mask and wiped away the menthol. He didn't see a single person on his way back to the car. He drove to Nybrostrand, changed cars again, and made it back to Ystad before 10 p.m. He didn't drive straight home but continued in the direction of Trelleborg. He pulled over at a spot where he could drive down towards the water without being observed. He put two of the big bags inside the third, weighted them down with pieces of steel pipe that he had procured for this purpose, and threw them into the water. They sank immediately.
He returned home, burned his mask, and threw his shoes into the rubbish. He put the menthol ointment in the bathroom cabinet. Then he took a shower and rubbed his body with disinfectant.
Later, he had some tea. When he looked into the tea container, he realised he would soon have to order more. He wrote it down on the noticeboard he kept in the kitchen. He watched a programme about the homeless on TV. No one said anything he didn't already know.
Around midnight he sat down at the kitchen table with a stack of letters in front of him. It was time for him to start thinking of the future. He opened the first letter carefully and started to read.
Shortly before 1.30 p.m. on Saturday, 10 August, Wallander left the Hillstroms' villa on Korlingsvag. He decided to drive straight to Skarby, where Isa Edengren, the girl whom Eva Hillstrom claimed should have been with the others on Midsummer's Eve, lived. Wallander had asked Hillstrom why she hadn't told him about this earlier, but inside he felt a growing sense of guilt over the fact that he had taken so long to realise that something might be seriously wrong.
He stopped at a cafe by the bus station and ordered a sandwich and a cup of coffee. He realised too late that he should have ordered his sandwich without butter. Now he was forced to try and scrape it off with his knife. A man at the next table was watching him, and Wallander guessed that he had recognised him from the papers. Probably this would lead to rumours about how the police frittered their time away scraping butter off sandwiches instead of searching for their colleague's killer. Wallander sighed. He had never been able to get used to the rumour mill.
He finished his coffee, went to the lavatory, and left the cafe. He chose to follow the smaller road that went through Bjaresjo. Just as he left the main road his mobile phone rang. It was Hoglund.
'I just spoke to Lena Norman's parents,' she said. 'I think I've found out something important.'
Wallander held the phone more closely to his ear.
'There was supposed to be a fourth person at that Midsummer party,' she said.
'I know. I'm on my way to her house right now.'
'Isa Edengren?'
'Yes, Eva Hillstrom picked her out from Svedberg's picture. It turns out that she had the original. Astrid took it last summer with the self-timer on her camera.'
'It feels like Svedberg is always one step ahead of us,' she said.
'We'll catch up with him soon,' Wallander said. 'Anything else?'
'Some people have called in with leads, but nothing looks promising.'
'Do me a favour and give Ylva Brink a call,' Wallander said. 'Ask her how big Svedberg's telescope was, and if it was heavy. I can't figure out where it's gone.'
'Have we already ruled out the possibility of a burglary?'
'We haven't ruled anything out yet, but if someone made off with a telescope, you would think they would've been seen.'
'Do you want me to do it right away, or can it wait? I'm on my way to see one of the boys from the photograph who lives in Trelleborg.'
'It can wait. Who's going to talk to the other one?'
'Martinsson and Hansson are going together. I gave them his name. Right now they're in Simrishamn with the Boge family.'
Wallander nodded with satisfaction. 'I'm glad we're getting hold of everyone today,' he said. 'I think we'll know a lot more about the case by this evening.'
They hung up and Wallander continued to Skarby. He followed the directions Eva Hillstrom had given him. She had told him that Isa Edengren's father had a big piece of property with several full-time landscapers working on it. A private road lined with big trees led up to a two-storey house. A BMW was parked in front. Wallander got out of his car and rang the bell. No one answered. He banged on the door and rang the bell again. It was 2 p.m. He was sweating. He rang the bell once more, then walked around to the back of the house. The garden was large and old- fashioned, with a variety of well-pruned fruit trees. There was a pool and a set of sun loungers that Wallander thought looked expensive. At the bottom of the garden there was a glassed-in gazebo, surrounded and almost completely hidden by bushes and overhanging branches. Wallander walked towards it. The green door was slightly ajar. He knocked but there was no answer. He pushed the door open. The curtains in the windows were pulled shut and it took a while for his eyes to adjust to the dim light.
He saw that there was a person inside. Someone was sleeping on a divan. He could see black hair sticking up over a blanket, but the person's back was turned towards him. Wallander closed the door and knocked again. Still no answer. Wallander walked in and flicked on the light switch. Light flooded the room. He grabbed the sleeper by the shoulder and gave a couple of shakes. When there was still no reaction Wallander knew that something was wrong. He turned the person over and saw that it was Isa Edengren. He spoke to her, and shook her again. Her breathing was slow and laboured. He shook her hard and sat her up but she didn't show any signs of waking. After fumbling in his pocket for his mobile phone, he remembered he had left it on the car seat after talking to Hoglund. He ran back to the car and made an emergency call to the hospital on his way back to the gazebo, giving careful directions to the house.
'I think it's either a suicide attempt or serious illness,' he said. 'What do I do?'
'Make sure she doesn't stop breathing,' he was told. 'You're a police officer, you should be familiar with the procedure.'
The ambulance arrived after 15 minutes. Wallander had managed to get hold of Hoglund, who had not yet left for Trelleborg, and asked her to meet the ambulance when it arrived at the hospital. He was going to stay in Skarby
