One Step Behind

"It varies. Not that he bothered to find out. If I may speak plainly, I thought he was a royal pain in the arse. But of course I feel sorry for him now, with the girl and all."

"Was that it? Illegal fishing?"

"As far as I know."

Wallander thanked him for the call. Then he tried to reach Harry Lundström in Norrköping, and was directed to his mobile phone. Lundström was in a car somewhere out in Vikboland. Wallander told him they had a positive ID on the murder weapon from the reserve, and that they would soon know about the gun used on Bärnsö Island. Lundström in turn told him they weren't sure of any prints found on the island, but he assumed the stolen boat in Snäckvarp was the one the killer had used.

"People out here on the islands are getting worried," he said. "You have to get this man."

"Yes," Wallander said. "Yes, we do. And we will."

He went and got a cup of coffee when he was done with the conversation. It was already 9.30 a.m. Something occurred to him, and he went back to his office and looked up the number for the Lundberg family in Skårby. The wife answered. Wallander realised he hadn't spoken to them since Isa was murdered, and so he began by offering her his condolences.

"Erik is still in bed," she said. "He doesn't have the energy to get up. He says we should sell the house and move away. Who could do something like this to a child?"

Isa was like a daughter to her, Wallander thought. I should have thought of it earlier.

He couldn't really answer her question, but he sensed that she held him responsible for Isa's death.

"I called to see if her parents have come home," he said.

"They came back last night."

"That was all I wanted to know," he said. He expressed his regrets once again and then hung up.

He pla

"There will be a press conference at 11 a.m.," Wallander said. "I think we should reveal these latest findings to the press and have pictures of the guns published."

"Do we have any pictures of them available now?"

"We'll get them tomorrow at the latest." Thurnberg made no objections, and said he would participate in the press conference. They kept the conversation brief, but Wallander noticed by the end that he had broken into a sweat.

They held the press conference in the largest room available. Wallander couldn't remember another case ever getting so much attention. As usual he got terribly nervous when he walked up to the podium. To his surprise, Thurnberg began. That had never happened in all the years he had worked there. Per Åkeson always let Wallander or the chief of police take on that task. Thurnberg spoke as if he was accustomed to speaking to the press. It's a new era, Wallander thought. He wasn't sure that he didn't feel a tiny bit envious. He listened carefully to what Thurnberg said, and couldn't deny that he expressed himself well.

Next it was his turn to speak. He had made some notes on a piece of paper to remind himself of what to say, but now, naturally, couldn't find it. He told them they had traced the murder weapons to Ludvika, with a possible link to a robbery in Orsa. He also told them that they were still waiting for a positive ID on the weapon used on Bärnsö Island in the Östergötland archipelago. As he spoke he thought of Westin, the postman who had taken him out to the island. Why he thought of him at that moment he couldn't say. He also talked about the findings regarding the stolen boat. When he finished, there were many questions. Thurnberg handled most of them, with Wallander jumping in from time to time. Martinsson was listening to the proceedings from the very back of the room.

Finally a woman from one of the evening papers indicated that she wanted to ask a question. Wallander had never seen her before.

"Would it be accurate to say that the police have no leads at this time?" she said, turning directly to Wallander.

"We have many leads," Wallander said. "We're just not close to making an arrest."

"It seems to me that the police investigation hasn't yielded any results. It seems more than likely that this killer will strike again. After all, I think it's clear to all of us that we're dealing with a madman."

"We don't know that," Wallander answered. "That's why we're keeping our approach as comprehensive as we can."

"That sounds like a strategy," the reporter said. "But it could also give the impression that you don't know where to turn, that you're helpless."

Wallander glanced at Thurnberg, who encouraged him to continue with an almost invisible nod of his head.

"The police are never helpless," Wallander said. "If we were, we wouldn't be police officers."

"Don't you agree that you're looking for a madman?"

"No."

"What else could this person be?"

"We don't know yet."

"Do you think you'll catch whoever did this?"

"Yes, without a doubt."

"Will he strike again?"

"We don't know."

There was a brief pause. Wallander got up, which the others took as a signal that the conference was over. Wallander thought Thurnberg had probably intended to end it in a more formal ma

Wallander went into his office to get his coat. He tried to think what it was that made him think of Westin during the press conference. He knew it was significant. He sat down at his desk and tried to coax the thought to the surface, but it wouldn't come. He gave up. As he was putting his coat on, Hansson called.

"I found the cars," he said. "Norman's and Boge's: a 1991 Toyota and a Volvo that's one year older. They were in a car park down by Sandhammaren. I've already called Nyberg. He's on his way there."

"So am I."

At the edge of town, Wallander pulled over at a takeaway bar and ate a hotdog. It had become habit now to buy one-litre bottles of mineral water. He had forgotten to take the medication that Dr Göransson had prescribed for him, and he didn't have it with him.

He drove back to Mariagatan in a bad temper. There was a heap of post on the floor in the hall, and he noticed a postcard from Linda, who was visiting friends in Hudiksvall, and a letter from his sister Kristina. Wallander took the post with him into the kitchen. His sister had put the name and address of a hotel on the back of the envelope. It was in Kemi, which Wallander knew was in northern Finland. He wondered what she was doing there, but he let the post wait, and took his medicine instead. Before he left the kitchen, he glanced at the post lying on the table and again his thoughts returned to Westin. Now he was able to catch hold of the thought.

There was something Westin had said during their trip out to Bärnsö Island, something that Wallander's subconscious had been turning over and was trying to send to the surface. He tried to reconstruct their conversation in the noisy wheelhouse without success. But Westin had said something important. He decided to call him after he had looked at the two cars.

Nyberg was already there when Wallander got out of his car. The Toyota and Volvo were parked next to each other. Police tape was plastered all around the area and the cars were being photographed. The doors and boots were wide open. Wallander walked up to Nyberg, who was getting a bag out of his car.