One Step Behind

Martinsson finally broke the silence. "You have to hand it to Svedberg," he said. "She's beautiful. Does anyone recognise her? Ystad isn't a big city."

No one had seen her before, nor any of the young people. It was, however, clear to everyone in the room that the girl to the far right was Astrid Hillström. The picture of her on file resembled this one closely, except for the clothes.

"Is it a masquerade?" Chief Holgersson asked. "What period is it meant to be?"

"The 17th century," Hansson said confidently.

Wallander looked at him with surprise. "How do you know that?"

"Maybe it's more like the 18th century," he said, changing his mind.

"I think it's the 16th century," Höglund said. "King Gustav I Vasa's time. They dressed in the same billowing sleeves and leggings."

"Are you sure?" Wallander asked.

"Of course I'm not sure. I'm just telling you what I think."

"Let's steer clear of educated guesses for a moment. The most important thing here is not how they're dressed up. It will eventually be important to figure out why they were dressed up, but even that can wait."

He looked around at everyone before continuing. "We have a picture of a woman in her 40s and a picture of a group of young people dressed up in some kind of costume. One of these young people is Astrid Hillström, who has been missing since Midsummer, although she's most probably travelling around Europe with two of her friends. This is what we know. I found these pictures hidden in the flat of our colleague Svedberg, who has been murdered. The way we need to begin our investigation is by determining what happened on Midsummer's Eve. That's where we start."

It took them three hours to go through the available material. Most of the time was spent formulating new questions and deciding who would do what. After two hours they took a short break and everyone except Chief Holgersson had coffee. Then they kept going. The team was starting to come together. At 10.15 a.m. Wallander felt they couldn't get any further.

Holgersson had been quiet for a long time, as she often was during their investigative work. Wallander knew she had great respect for their abilities. But now she raised her hand slightly.

"What do you really think has happened to them?" she asked. "If there's been any kind of an accident you would think it would have been discovered by now."

"I don't know," Wallander said. "The very supposition that something has happened to them leads us to conclude that their signatures on the postcards were forged. Why?"

"To cover up a crime," Nyberg suggested.

The room became quiet. Wallander looked at Nyberg and nodded slowly.

"And not just any crime," he said. "People who go missing either stay that way or turn up. There's only one possible explanation for these postcards having been forged, and that is that someone is trying to hide the fact that these three people – Boge, Norman and Hillström – are dead."

"That tells us another thing," Höglund said. "The person who sent these postcards knows what happened to them."

"Not just that," Wallander said. "It's the person who killed them, a person who can forge their signatures and handwriting, and who knows where they live."

It was as if Wallander needed time to get to his final conclusion. "If our supposition is correct," he said, "then we have to assume that these three were the victims of a calculating and well-organised murderer."

His words were followed by a long silence. Wallander already knew what he wanted to say next but wondered if anyone would jump in. Outside in the hall someone laughed loudly. Nyberg blew his nose. Hansson was staring off into space and Martinsson drummed his fingers on the table. Höglund and Holgersson were looking at Wallander.

My two allies, he thought.

"We are forced into the realm of speculation at this point," he said. "One line of reasoning will be particularly unpleasant and unimaginable, but we ca

Hansson dropped his pen on the table. "You can't mean that!" he said, visibly upset. "One of our colleagues is brutally murdered, we're trying to find his killer, and you're suggesting that he was involved in an even greater crime."

"We have to consider it as a possibility," Wallander said.

"You're right," Nyberg interrupted. "However unappealing it is. Since the Belgian case I've had the feeling that anything is possible."

Nyberg was right. The macabre string of child murders in Belgium had been linked in unsavoury ways to both the police and politicians. These links were still tenuous, but no one doubted that many dramatic revelations were to come.

Wallander nodded for Nyberg to continue.

"What I'm wondering is how Louise fits into the picture."

"We don't know," Wallander said. "We have to try to proceed in as open-minded a fashion as possible and try to answer all our questions, including who this woman is."

A certain gloom fell over the group as they divided up the tasks and accepted that they would now be working around the clock. Holgersson would see about bringing in extra perso

"Tell me what your thinking is on this," he said when she had sat down.

"Naturally some thoughts are so repulsive that you try to block them out."

"Of course. Svedberg was our friend. Now we have reason to speculate that he may have been a criminal."

"Do you really think so?"

"No, but I have to consider even what seems impossible, if that makes any sense."

"Then what do you think happened?"

"That's what I want you to tell me."

"Well, a co

"No, that's not true. A co

She nodded.

"What else do you see?" he asked.

"That Svedberg was someone other than we thought."

Wallander pounced on this. "And how did we think he was?"

She thought a moment before answering. "That he was open, trustworthy."

"But in reality he turned out to be secretive and untrustworthy, is that what you mean?"

"Not exactly, but something like that."

"One of his secrets involved a woman, who may have been called Louise. We know what she looks like."

Wallander got up, turned on the projector, and slipped the picture back into the machine.

"I have the strange feeling that there's something wrong with this face. But I can't think what it is."

Höglund hesitated, but Wallander sensed that his statement didn't surprise her.

"There's something odd about her hair," she said finally. "Although I can't put my finger on it."

"We have to find her," Wallander said. "And we will."

He put the second photograph in the projector and looked at Höglund. Again she answered hesitantly.

"I'm quite convinced that they're wearing clothes from the 16th century. I have a book at home about fashion through the ages. But I could be wrong."

"What else do you see?"

"Young people who seem happy. Excited and drunk."

Wallander suddenly thought of the pictures that Sten Widen showed him from their trip to Germany, especially the drunken one of himself with the beer bottle in his hand. There was a similarity in the expressions on their faces.