One Step Behind

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 Hillströms' villa on Körlingsväg. He decided to drive straight to Skårby, where Isa Edengren, the girl whom Eva Hillström claimed should have been with the others on Midsummer's Eve, lived. Wallander had asked Hillström 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 café. He chose to follow the smaller road that went through Bjäresjö. Just as he left the main road his mobile phone rang. It was Höglund.

"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 Hillström 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 Skårby. He followed the directions Eva Hillström 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 Höglund. 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 Höglund, 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 Skårby for a while. After the ambulance left, he tried the doors of the main house, but they were locked. Then he heard an approaching car. A man wearing rubber boots and overalls got out of a little Fiat.

"I saw the ambulance," he said.

Wallander saw the look of worry in his eyes. After telling him who he was, Wallander said that Isa Edengren was ill. That was all he could say for the moment.

"Where are her parents?" he asked.

"Away."

The answer seemed deliberately vague.

"Can you be more specific? We'll have to notify them."

"They may be in Spain," the man said. "But they could also be in France. They own houses in both countries."

Wallander thought about the locked doors.

"Does Isa live here even when they're away?"

The man shook his head.

"What do you mean by that?"

"It's really none of my business," the man said and started backing towards his car.

"You've already made it your business," Wallander said firmly. "What's your name?"

"Erik Lundberg."

"Do you live close by?"

Lundberg pointed to a farm that lay south of where they were.

"Now I want you to answer my question: did Isa live here while her parents were away?"

"No, she wasn't allowed to."

"What do you mean by that?"

"She had to sleep in the gazebo."

"Why wasn't she allowed in the main house?"

"There had been trouble in the past. Some parties where things had either been broken or stolen."

"How do you know this?"

The answer came as a surprise.

"They don't treat her very well," Lundberg said. "Last winter when it was ten degrees below zero, they went away and locked up the house. But there's no heating in the gazebo. She came down to our place completely frozen and told us about it. Not me directly, that is, but my wife."

"Then we'll go back to your place," Wallander said. "I'd like to hear what she told your wife."

He asked Lundberg to go ahead of him. Wallander wanted to check the gazebo before he left. He found no trace of sleeping pills or letter, and nothing else of consequence. He looked around one more time then headed back to the car. His phone rang.

"She's just been admitted," Höglund said.

"What are the doctors saying?"

"Not very much for now."

She promised to call as soon as she heard anything. Wallander relieved himself next to the car before he went down to Lundberg's farm. A wary dog met him on the front porch. Lundberg came out and chased it away, and invited Wallander into a cosy kitchen. Lundberg's wife was making coffee. Her name was Barbro and she spoke in a Gothenburg dialect.