One Step Behind

"Then let's get going."

It was close to 9.30 a.m. when they returned to their cars.

"I'll call Isa's parents myself," Wallander said. "The rest of you will have to take on Boge, Norman and Hillstrom's parents. I don't want to be responsible for what might happen if we don't get hold of Isa. They may know something, and so might the others in the photo that we found at Svedberg's flat."

"Do you think something's happened?"

"I don't know."

They drove away. Wallander thought back to the conversation with Lundberg. Who had made that call? He had a gnawing feeling that Lundberg had said something else that was important, but he couldn't think what it was. I'm tired, he thought. I don't listen to what people say and then I have the feeling that I missed something important.

When they arrived back at the station, they went off in separate directions. Ebba stopped him as he walked past the reception desk.

"Mona called you," she said.

Wallander came to a complete stop. "What did she want?"

"She didn't tell me."

Ebba gave him her phone number in Malmö. Wallander already knew it by heart, but Ebba was very thoughtful. She also handed him a number of other phone messages.

"Most of them are from reporters," she said consolingly. "You don't have to get back to them."

Wallander got some coffee and went into his office. He had just taken off his jacket and sat down when the phone rang. It was Hansson.

"There's nothing new to report," he said. "Just so you know."

"I want either you or A

"I am. I'm working on it. Has anything happened?"

"Isa Edengren escaped from the hospital this morning. It worries me."

"Which one of us would you rather have?"

Wallander would have preferred Höglund. She was a better police officer than Hansson. But he didn't say so.

"It doesn't matter. Just one of you."

He hung up and dialled Mona's number in Malmö. Every time she called, which wasn't often, he feared that something had happened to Linda. She answered on the second ring. Wallander always felt a twinge of sorrow when he heard her voice. Was it his imagination or was the feeling getting weaker? He wasn't sure.

"I hope I'm not bothering you," she said. "How are you?"

"I'm the one who called you," he said. "I'm fine."

"You sound tired."

"I am tired. You've probably seen in the papers that one of my colleagues is dead. Svedberg. Do you remember him?"

"Barely."

"What did you want?"

"I wanted to tell you that I'm going to get married again."

Wallander was quiet. For a moment he nearly hung up, but he stayed as he was, speechless.

"Are you there?"

"Yes," he said. "I'm still here."

"I'm telling you that I'm getting remarried."

"Who to?"

"Clas-Henrik. Who else would it be?"

"Should you really be marrying a golfer?"

"That's not a very nice thing to say."

"Then I should apologise. Does Linda know?"

"I wanted to tell you first."

"I don't know what to say. Perhaps I should congratulate you."

"That would be nice. We don't have to continue this conversation. I just wanted you to know."

"Why the hell would I want to know? What the hell do I care about you and your fucking golfer?"

Wallander was enraged. He didn't know exactly where it came from. Perhaps it was the tiredness, or the last remnant of pain at realising that now Mona was leaving him for good. The first time he had felt such pain was when she told him she wanted to leave him. And now, when she told him she was getting married again, he discovered that it was still there.

He slammed down the phone so hard that it broke. Martinsson was walking into his office as it happened, and he jumped when the receiver fell apart. Wallander pulled the phone out of the jack and threw the whole mess in the rubbish. Martinsson watched this, obviously afraid to incur Wallander's wrath. He raised his hands up in front of his chest and turned to leave.

"What did you want?"

"It can wait."

"My anger is a private matter," Wallander said. "Tell me what you want."

"I'm going to see Norman's family. I thought I'd start with them. Lillemor Norman may know where Isa has gone."

Wallander nodded. "Either Hansson or A

Martinsson nodded, then remained in the doorway. "You'll need a new phone," he said. "I'll see to it."

Wallander didn't answer. He waved for Martinsson to leave. He didn't know how long he sat there doing nothing. Once more he'd been forced to face the fact that Mona was still the woman he was closest to in his life. It was only when someone showed up at his door with a new phone that he got up and left. Without knowing why, he ended up wandering down the hall and coming to a halt outside Svedberg's office. The door was open slightly and he looked in. The sun coming in through the window revealed a thin layer of dust on the desk. Wallander closed the door and sat down in Svedberg's chair.

Höglund had already gone through all his papers. She was very thorough. It would be a waste of time to go over them again. Then he remembered that, like all of them, Svedberg had a locker in the basement. Höglund had probably checked it, but she had never mentioned having done so. Wallander went out to the reception area and asked Ebba for the keys.

"His spare keys are right here," she said with obvious distaste.

Wallander took them and was about to leave when she stopped him.

"When is the funeral going to be?"

"I don't know."

"It's not going to be easy."

"At least we don't have to face a widow and crying children," said Wallander. "But you're right. It's not going to be easy."

He went down the stairs and found Svedberg's locker. He didn't know what he was looking for; there was probably nothing to find. There were some towels, soap and a shampoo bottle, for Svedberg's Friday night saunas. There was also a pair of old trainers. Wallander felt with his hand along the top shelf. There was a thin plastic folder containing some papers. He took it out, put on his glasses, and looked through it. Inside was a reminder from Svedberg's mechanic to bring his car in for a tune. There were some handwritten notes that looked like shopping lists. But there were also some ticket stubs for the bus and the train. On 19 July Svedberg, or somebody, had taken the morning train to Norrköping. He had returned to Ystad on 22 July. He could tell from the way that the ticket was stamped that it had been used. The stubs from the bus were very blurry. He held them up to the light but couldn't read them. With the help of a magnifying glass he could just decipher the price and the words "Östgöta Public Transit". He called Ylva Brink, who was at home for once, but she had no idea what Svedberg would be doing in Östergötland. He had no family there as far as she knew.

"Maybe this Louise person lives there," she said. "Have you found out who she is yet?"

"Not yet, but you may be right."

Wallander got another cup of coffee. His mind kept returning to his conversation with Mona. He still couldn't comprehend how she could marry that ski

He should have thought of it at once. What was that island in Isa Edengren's photo album called? Bärnsö? Hadn't Martinsson said that Bärnsö was off the coast of Östergötland? He put the coffee cup down so roughly that some of the liquid spilled, and tried out his new phone by calling Martinsson.