One Step Behind

"I'm not normally the curious type, but why is this so important?"

"I don't know," Wallander said simply. "But when I do, I'll tell you, I promise."

Wallander felt despondent after the call. Not only had he been unable to get Westin to remember what he'd said, it was probably irrelevant anyway. His thoughts of giving up, and letting Holgersson put someone else in charge returned more strongly. But then he thought of Thurnberg and felt an even stronger urge to prove him wrong. He called the operator and asked for a number for Stig Stridh. It was unlisted but not private. He dialled the number and counted nine rings before someone answered. The voice was old and drawling.

"Stridh."

"This is Inspector Kurt Wallander from the Ystad police."

Stridh sounded like he was spitting when he replied. "It wasn't me who shot Svedberg, but maybe I should have."

His attitude angered Wallander. Stridh should show more respect, even if Svedberg had acted inappropriately towards him in the past. He had trouble holding back his irritation.

"You filed charges against Svedberg ten years ago. They were dismissed."

"I still can't understand how they could do that," Stridh said. "Svedberg should have lost his job."

"I'm not calling to discuss the decision," Wallander said curtly. "I want to talk to you about what happened."

"What's there to talk about? My brother was drunk."

"What's his name?"

"Nisse."

"Does he live in Ystad?"

"He died in 1991. Cirrhosis of the liver, what a surprise."

Wallander was momentarily at a loss. He had assumed the call to Stig Stridh was the first step towards eventually meeting the brother who played the leading role in the whole strange episode.

"You have my condolences," Wallander said.

"The hell I do. But whatever. I'm not particularly sorry. I get left in peace now and I have the place to myself. At least more often."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nisse has a widow, or whatever one should call her."

"Is she his widow?"

"That's what she says, but he never married her."

"Do they have children?"

"She did, but not with him. That was just as well. One of hers is doing time."

"What for?"

"Robbed a bank."

"What's his name?"

"It's a she. Stella."

"Your brother's stepdaughter robbed a bank?"

"Is that so strange?"

"It's unusual for a woman to commit that kind of crime. Where did it take place?"

"In Sundsvall. She fired a number of shots at the ceiling."

A vague recollection of this event was coming back to Wallander. He looked for something to write with. Wallander turned back to the matter at hand. Stridh's answers came slowly and with great unwillingness. It took what seemed like an eternity, but Wallander finally had a clearer picture of the events. Stig Stridh had been married, had two grown sons who now lived in Malmö and Laholm. His brother, Nils, called Nisse, who was three years younger, became an alcoholic early on. He began a career in the military but was discharged on account of his heavy drinking. At first Stig tried to be patient with his brother, but the relationship deteriorated, not least because he always came asking for money. Tensions had reached breaking point eleven years earlier. This was the point Wallander wanted to reach.

"We don't have to go through the events in detail," he said. "I just want to know one thing: why do you think Svedberg acted the way he did?"

"He said we had no evidence, but that was bullshit."

"We know that. We don't have to go into it. What I want to know is why you think he acted like this."

"Because he was an idiot."

Wallander was prepared for the answers to anger him, and he knew that Stig had good reasons for his hostility. Svedberg's behaviour had been incomprehensible.

"Svedberg was no idiot," Wallander said. "There must be another explanation. Had you ever met him before?"

"When would that have been?"

"Just answer my questions," Wallander said shortly.

"I'd never met him before."

"Have you had any run-ins with the law yourself?"

"No."

That answer came a little too fast, Wallander thought. It isn't true.

"Stick to the truth, Stridh. If you tell me lies I'll have you hauled straight down to the station in the blink of an eye."

It worked. "Well, I did a little car-dealing in the 1960s," he said. "There was some trouble once about a car that was supposed to be stolen, but that's all."

Wallander decided to take him at his word.

"How about your brother?"

"He probably did all kinds of things, but he never did any time for anything except his drinking."

Again, Wallander felt that Stridh was telling the truth. The man didn't know of a co

He left the flat and walked to the station.

Shortly after 11 a.m., as he went to get another cup of coffee, he realised that most of his colleagues were around, including the officers from Malmö, and took the opportunity to call a meeting in the conference room. He started by going through his own attempts to shed light on the events surrounding the complaint filed against Svedberg eleven years ago. Martinsson told him that Hugo Andersson, the policeman who'd answered Stridh's call that night, now worked as a janitor at a school in Värnamo. The officer who'd been his partner was a policeman by the name of Holmström, who now worked in Malmö.

Martinsson promised to check up on both of them. Wallander told them he was driving out to meet Isa Edengren's parents. After the meeting, Wallander shared a pizza with Hansson. All day he had been trying to keep track of how much water he had drunk and how many times he'd relieved himself, but he had already lost track. He called Rut Lundin. Once she understood why he was calling, she answered most of his questions – but she had nothing useful to add. He asked her specifically about Nisse's drinking buddies, and she said she remembered a few. When he pressed her for names, she said she needed time to think. He told her he would drop by later that afternoon.

At 4 p.m. he called Björk, their former chief of police, who now lived in Malmö. They started by catching up on the latest gossip, and Björk expressed deep sympathy at their having to deal with the case at hand. They talked at length about Svedberg. Björk said he was pla

Wallander left the station at 4.30 p.m., on his way to Skårby. First he stopped by Rut Lundin's flat to pick up the list of names she had promised him. When he rang her doorbell she opened the door at once, as if she had been waiting for him in the hall. He could see that she was drunk. She thrust a piece of paper in his hand and said it was all she could remember. Wallander saw she didn't want him to come in, so he thanked her and left.

Back out on the footpath, he stopped under the shade of a tree and read through what she had written. He immediately saw a name he recognised about halfway down the list. Bror Sundelius. Wallander caught his breath. A pattern was finally starting to emerge. Svedberg, Bror Sundelius, Nisse Stridh. He didn't get any further. The phone in his pocket rang.

It was Martinsson, and his voice was shaking.

"He's done it again," he said. "He's done it again."

It was 4.55 p.m. on Saturday, 17 August 1996.