It was cold in the car. He started the engine and switched on the heating. He relived the attack over and over again in his mind. He was still in shock, but he could feel the anger boiling up inside him.
He gave a start when somebody knocked on the window, afraid that the young men had come back. But the face peering in through the glass was that of a white-haired elderly lady in a beret. He opened the door a little.
‘Don’t you know it’s forbidden to leave your engine running for as long as you have?’ she said. ‘I’m out walking my dog, but I’ve been checking my watch and know how long you’ve been standing here with the engine on.’
Wallander made no reply, simply nodded and drove off. That night he lay in bed without being able to sleep. The last time he looked at the clock it was 5 a.m. The following day Hakan von Enke disappeared. And Wallander never reported the attack he had suffered. He told no one, not even Linda.
When von Enke failed to turn up after two days, Wallander’s future son-in-law called and asked him to go to Stockholm. Since he was still off sick, he agreed. Wallander realised that it was in fact Louise who had asked for help. He made it clear that he didn’t want to meddle in police business; his colleagues in Stockholm were dealing with the case. Police officers who interfered in other forces’ work and poked their noses where they shouldn’t were never popular.
The evening before Wallander left for Stockholm, one of those pleasant evenings in early spring when it was growing noticeably lighter, he paid a visit to Linda. As usual, Hans was not at home; he always worked late on what Wallander referred to wryly as ‘financial speculations’. That had led to the first and so far only argument between him and his prospective son-in-law. Hans had protested that he and his colleagues were not involved in anything as simple as that. But when Wallander asked what they did do, he had the impression that the answer referred in fact to speculations in foreign exchange and shares, derivatives and hedge funds (things that Wallander freely admitted he didn’t understand). Linda had intervened and explained that her father had no idea about mysterious and hence frightening modern financial goings-on. There had been a time when Wallander would have been upset by what she said, but now he noticed the warmth in her voice and simply flung his arms out wide as a sign that he submitted to her judgement.
But now he was sitting in the house shared by his daughter and her partner. The baby, who still hadn’t been given a name, was lying on a mat by Linda’s feet. Wallander observed her, and it occurred to him, perhaps for the first time, that his own daughter would never sit on his knee again. When one’s own child has a child, some things are gone forever.
‘What do you think happened to Hakan?’ Wallander asked. ‘What’s your view, both as a police officer and as Hans’s partner?’
Linda replied immediately - she had clearly been prepared for the question.
‘I’m sure something serious has happened. I’m even afraid he might be dead. Hakan isn’t the type of person who just vanishes. He would never commit suicide without leaving a note. Mind you, he would never commit suicide, full stop; but that’s another matter. If he had done something wrong, he would never slink off without taking his punishment. I simply don’t believe that he disappeared of his own free will.’
‘Can you explain?’
‘Do I need to? Surely you understand what I mean.’
‘Yes, but I want to hear it in your own words.’
Wallander noted yet again that she had prepared herself meticulously. Linda was not merely somebody talking about a relative; she was also a shrewd young police officer setting out her view of the case.
‘When you talk about something not happening of the victim’s own free will, there are two possibilities. One is an accident - he fell through thin ice or was run over by a car, for instance. The other is that he was subjected to premeditated violence, abducted or killed. The accident explanation no longer seems feasible. There are no reports of him in the hospital. So that possibility can be ruled out. That leaves only the other possibility.’
Wallander raised his hand and interrupted her.
‘Let’s make an assumption,’ he said. ‘You and I know this happens much more often than you might think. Especially where older men are concerned.’
‘You mean that he might have run off with some woman?’
‘Something along those lines, yes.’
She shook her head firmly.
‘I’ve spoken to Hans about that. He says there are definitely no skeletons in the closet. Hakan has been faithful to Louise throughout their marriage.’
Wallander interrupted again.
‘What about Louise? Has she been faithful?’
That was a question Linda hadn’t asked herself, he could see. She hadn’t yet learned all the possible twists that can take place in an interrogation.
‘I can’t believe she hasn’t. She’s not the type.’
‘Not a good response. You should never say a person is “not the type”. That exposes you to an underestimation.’
‘Let me put it this way: I don’t think she’s had any affairs. But obviously, I can’t be certain. Ask her!’
‘I have no intention of doing any such thing! It would be a disgraceful move in the current circumstances.’
Wallander hesitated before asking the next question that came into his head.
‘You and Hans must have discussed this over the last few days. He can’t have been glued to his computer all the time. What does he have to say? Was he surprised when Hakan vanished?’
‘Why wouldn’t he have been surprised?’
‘I don’t know. But when I was in Stockholm, I had the impression that Hakan was worried about something.’
‘Why didn’t you say so?’
‘Because I tried to banish the thought. I told myself I was imagining things.’
‘Your intuition doesn’t usually let you down.’
‘Thank you. But I’m becoming less and less sure about that - as I am about so many other things.’
Linda didn’t respond. Wallander studied her face. She’d put on a bit of weight after her pregnancy; her cheeks had become fuller. He could see from her eyes that she was tired. His thoughts turned to Mona, and how she was always angry because he never made any move to help her when Linda woke up crying during the night. I wonder how Linda is really feeling, he thought. When you have a child, it’s as if every heartstring is stretched to the limit. One or two are likely to snap.
‘Something tells me you’re right,’ she said eventually. ‘Now that I think about it, I can remember situations, barely noticeable at the time, when he seemed worried. He kept looking over his shoulder.’
‘Literally or figuratively?’
‘Literally. He kept turning round. I didn’t think about it before.’
‘Can you remember anything else?’
‘He was very careful about making sure the doors were locked. And he insisted that some lights be left on round the clock.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. But the desk lamp in his study always had to be on, and the light in the hall next to the front door.’
An old naval officer, Wallander thought, making sure navigational channels were properly illuminated during the night by specific lighthouses.
At that point the baby woke up, and Wallander held her until she stopped crying.
On the train to Stockholm, he continued to think about those lights that had to be kept on. It was something he needed to investigate. Perhaps there was an innocent explanation. The same thing might apply to the disappearance of Hakan von Enke. So far he had no idea how to find that out. But he hoped that no matter what, there would be a plausible and undramatic explanation.
6
At the end of the 1970s he and Mona had gone on a trip to Stockholm. Wallander seemed to recall that they
