'To become a postal worker?'
'It's not as strange as it sounds. The hours are good and you meet a lot of people.'
'Is he working at the moment?'
'He subbed for someone about a week ago. I'm not sure what he's up right now.'
'Is there anything else you can tell me about him?'
'He's a very private person, but conscientious. I think he's about 44 years old, and he lives here in Ystad - at number 18, Harmonigatan, if I'm not mistaken.'
Wallander thought for a moment. 'And these substitutes might be placed on any of your routes?'
'It's supposed to work that way. You never know when someone's going to come down with a cold.'
'Which route was Larstam working on last time?'
'The district to the west of Ystad.'
Wrong again, Wallander thought. Neither the nature reserve nor Nybrostrand lay to the west.
'Thanks, that's all I wanted to know,' he said. 'I appreciate you taking the time to call me back.'
Wallander hung up and decided to return to the station. The investigative team had no plans to meet that evening, but he would use the time to re-examine material in the case files. The phone rang. It was Albinsson again.
'I made a mistake,' he said. 'I mixed up Lena's and Ake's assignments. Lena took the route to the west of Ystad.'
'And was Ake Larstam also working?'
'That's where I was wrong. He last subbed on a route in Nybrostrand.'
'When was that?'
'In July. The assignment was only for a couple of weeks.'
'Do you remember the route he had before that?'
'He had a long-term assignment out towards Rogla. That must have been from March to June.'
'Thanks for telling me,' Wallander said.
He replaced the receiver. Ake Larstam had recently been delivering post in the area where Torbjorn Werner and Malin Skander lived. Before then, he had been delivering post in an area that included Skarby, where Isa Edengren lived. It was probably mere coincidence, but he couldn't help taking out the phone book and looking for Larstam's entry. There was no one by that name in the book. He called information and was told that Larstam had an unlisted number.
Wallander dressed and went down to the station. To his surprise, Hoglund was also there. She was in her office, looking through a thick pile of papers.
'I didn't think anyone else would be here,' he said.
She was still dressed in her uniform. Wallander had already complimented her on her speech earlier in the day.
'My babysitter is there tonight,' she said. 'I have to make the most of it. There's so much paperwork to do.'
'Same here. That's why I came down too.'
He sat down in her visitor's chair. She saw he wanted to discuss something with her, and she pushed her pile of paper to the side. Wallander told her about the idea he'd had after hearing the national chief mention his temporary secretary. Then he described his conversation with Albinsson.
'From his description, he hardly sounds like a mass murderer,' she said.
'Who does? My point is that we finally have someone whose activities we can trace to three of the victims' homes.'
'So what are you suggesting we do?'
'I just came here to talk to you about it, nothing more.'
'We've talked to the regular postal workers, so we should talk to these substitutes too. Is that what you want?'
'I don't think we need to bother with Lena Stivell.'
Hoglund looked down at her watch. 'We could take a short walk,' she said. 'Get some fresh air. We could walk by Harmonigatan and ring Larstam's bell. It's not that late.'
'Even I hadn't thought that far,' he said. 'But I like your idea.'
It took them ten minutes to walk to Harmonigatan, which lay in the western part of the city. Number 18 was an older, three-storey block of flats. Larstam lived on the top floor. Wallander rang the bell and they waited. He rang it again.
'I suppose he isn't home,' she said. Wallander crossed the street and looked up at the flat. Two of the windows were lit. He went back and tried the front door. It was open, so they walked in. There was no elevator. They walked up the wide stairs. Wallander rang the doorbell, and they heard it ring inside. Nothing happened. He rang it three times. Hoglund bent down and looked through the post slot.
'There's no sound,' she said. 'But the light's on.'
Wallander rang the bell one last time, then Hoglund banged on the door.
'We'll have to try again tomorrow,' she said.
Wallander was struck by the feeling that something wasn't quite right. She noticed it immediately.
'What are you thinking?'
'I don't know. That something doesn't add up.'
'He's probably not home. The manager at the post office said that he's not working at the moment. He might have gone somewhere for a few days. That's a logical explanation.'
'You're probably right,' Wallander said doubtfully.
She started down the stairs. 'Let's try again tomorrow,' she said.
'That is if we don't try to go in tonight anyway.'
She looked up at him with genuine surprise. 'Are you suggesting that we break in? Is he even a suspect?'
'It's just that we happen to be here now.'
She shook her head vigorously. 'I can't let you do it. It goes against all the rules.'
Wallander shrugged. 'You're right. We'll try again tomorrow.'
They returned to the station. During the walk they discussed how the workload should be distributed over the next couple of days. They parted in reception, and Wallander returned to his office to deal with some pressing paperwork.
Shortly before 11 p.m. he dialled the number of the Stockholm restaurant where Linda worked. For once he succeeded in getting through, but Linda was very busy. They agreed that she would call him in the morning.
'How is everything?' he asked. 'Have you decided where you're going to go?'
'Not yet. I will.'
The conversation gave him a burst of energy. He returned to his paperwork. At 11.30 p.m., Hoglund came to say she was leaving.
'I'll try to be here before 8 a.m.,' she said. 'We can start by visiting Larstam again.'
'We'll fit it in when we have the time,' Wallander said.
Wallander waited for five minutes, then took a set of skeleton keys out of his desk drawer and left the office. He had already made up his mind while they were deliberating outside Larstam's door. If she didn't want to be party to breaking in, he would do it alone. There was something about Ake Larstam that bothered him.
He walked back to Harmonigatan. It was just before midnight and there was a soft, easterly breeze. Wallander thought he could feel a touch of autumn chill in the air. Maybe the heat wave was nearing its end. He rang the bell from downstairs and noted that the same lights were on. When there was no answer, he pushed open the front door and walked up the stairs.
He had a feeling of being back where it all began; of reliving the night when he and Martinsson had gone up to Svedberg's flat. He shuddered, then listened intently outside the door of the flat. Not a sound. He carefully opened the post slot. No sound, just a soft beam of light. He rang the doorbell and waited, then rang it again. After waiting for five minutes, he got out the skeleton keys, and looked closely at the door. It was fitted with the most elaborate set of locks he had ever seen in his life. Ake Larstam was clearly a person who valued his privacy. There was no way he would be able to open these locks with his skeleton keys. At the same time, the need to get inside
