One Step Behind

"Do me a favour," he said. "Get Edmundsson and his dog to search this place. Have them go 20 metres into the woods on either side."

"Why?"

"Because I want them to. That's all the explanation I can give right now."

"What do you want the dog to look for?"

"I don't know. Something that shouldn't be there."

She asked no further questions, and he already regretted not telling her more. It was too late now. They kept walking and she handed him a copy of the newspaper. It had a picture of "Louise" printed on the front page. He read the headline without stopping.

"Who's in charge of this?" he asked.

"Martinsson is organising and checking the leads as they come in."

"It's important that it's done right."

"Martinsson is very careful."

"Not always."

He heard how irritated and disapproving he sounded and knew there was no reason to take his tiredness out on her. But there was no one else around.

When all this is over I'll have to speak to her, he thought helplessly.

At that moment a jogger came towards them. Wallander reacted without a second thought by placing himself in the man's way.

"Haven't they sealed off the area? No one should be here except the police!"

The jogger was in his 30s and was wearing headphones. As he tried to run past, Wallander reached out to stop him. The jogger, thinking he was being attacked, hit back. He caught Wallander on the side of his jaw. Wallander was taken by surprise and collapsed. When he got his bearings, Höglund had the man pi

"The reserve has been sealed off," he said. "Did that fact escape you?"

"Sealed off?"

The man's surprise seemed genuine.

"Get his name," Wallander ordered. "Make sure the barriers are up. Then take him out and let him go."

"I'm going to report this," the jogger said angrily.

Wallander turned away and felt the inside of his mouth with a finger. Then he slowly turned back around to face him.

"What's your name?"

"Hagroth."

"What else?"

"Nils."

"And what is it you're going to report?"

"Excessive force. Here I am jogging peacefully and then I'm attacked without warning."

"You're wrong," Wallander said. "The person who was assaulted was me, not you. I'm a police officer and I was trying to stop you because you were inside a restricted area."

The jogger began to protest but Wallander lifted his hand. "You can get a year's jail time for assault of a police officer. It's a very serious offence. You're obliged to follow police orders and you were trespassing in a restricted area. You could get three years. Don't think you'll get away with a fine and a slap on the wrist. Do you have a previous criminal record?"

"Of course not."

"Then we'll say three years. But if you forget about this and stay away from here I'll think about letting it drop."

The jogger tried to protest again but once more Wallander's hand went up.

"You have ten seconds to make up your mind."

The jogger nodded.

"Take off the handcuffs," Wallander ordered. "See that you get him out of here and get his address."

Wallander continued walking up the path. His jaw hurt, but he was no longer tired.

"He wouldn't get three years," Höglund said.

"He doesn't know that," Wallander said. "And I don't think he's likely to go to any length to find out if it's true."

"I thought this was exactly the kind of thing the head of the national police wants us to avoid," she said. "Shaking the people's trust in the police."

"It'll be shaken more if we don't find whoever killed Boge, Norman and Hillström. Plus one of our colleagues."

When they finally arrived at the crime scene, Wallander poured coffee into a Styrofoam cup and went looking for Nyberg, who was supervising preparations for the dig. Nyberg's hair was standing on end, his eyes were bloodshot, and he was in a foul mood.

"I don't know why I'm the one who's suddenly in charge of this," he said. "Where the hell is everybody? Why is your face all bloody?"

Wallander felt his cheek with one hand. The corner of his mouth was bleeding.

"I got into a fight with a jogger," he said. "Hansson's on his way."

"A fight with a jogger?"

"It's a long story."

Wallander filled Höglund in on their conversation about where the bodies might be buried, and put her in charge of the search. He made some rapid calculations. With Höglund and Hansson at the crime scene, there was no reason for him to stay. If Martinsson was taking care of things back at the station, that meant Wallander could turn his attention to other tasks.

He dialled Martinsson's number. "I'm coming in," he told him. "Having Hansson and A

"Any results?"

"It's too early for that. Have we heard anything from Lund?"

"I can try to call now."

"Good. Tell them it's urgent. What we really need is to establish a time of death. It would also be good to know who was killed first, if possible."

"Why is that important?"

"I don't know if it's important. But it's possible the killer was actually only after one of the three."

Martinsson promised to call Lund straight away.

Wallander put his phone back in his pocket. "I'm going back to Ystad," he told the others. "Let me know if you find anything."

He started walking back to the car and bumped into Edmundsson and his dog along the way. Höglund must already have made the call. Edmundsson had been equally swift.

"Did you fly him in?" Wallander asked, pointing at the dog.

"A colleague drove him in. What was it you wanted us to do?"

Wallander showed him the place and explained what he wanted. "If you find anything, you should let Nyberg know. When you're done, join the search up at the crime scene. They're looking for a place to start digging right now."

Edmundsson went pale. "Are there more bodies?" he asked.

His words jolted Wallander. He hadn't even considered this possibility, but he realised it was improbable.

"No," he said, "we don't expect to find more bodies, just a spot where they might have been buried for a while."

"Why would they have been buried?"

Wallander didn't answer. Edmundsson is right, he thought. Why would the killer hide the bodies? We've raised the question and tried to answer it, but it may turn out to be more important than we thought. He got into his car. His jaw still ached. He was about to start the engine when his phone rang. It was Martinsson.

He's got information from Lund, Wallander thought and felt a rising excitement.

"What did they say?"

"Who?"

"You haven't talked to Lund?"

"No, I haven't had time. I've just had a call."

Wallander could tell that Martinsson was worried, which was uncharacteristic.

Don't let it be someone else, he thought. Not more dead bodies. Not now.

"The hospital called," Martinsson said. "Isa Edengren has disappeared."

It was 8.03 a.m. on Monday, 12 August.