One Step Behind

"Anything else?"

"Nothing you don't already know. This killer is in total control of his weapon."

"His hand doesn't shake?"

"Hardly."

"You see a calm and determined killer?"

Nyberg looked grimly at Wallander. "I see a cold-blooded and heartless madman."

When Wallander returned to the police station, the phones were going mad. One of the officers on duty gestured for him to come over. Wallander waited while he finished a phone call about a drunk driver sighted in Svarte. The officer promised to send out a squad car as soon as possible, but Wallander knew no squad car would be making it to Svarte for another 24 hours.

"A police officer from Copenhagen called you. The name was something like Kjær or Kræmp."

"What was it about?"

"The photograph of that woman."

Wallander took the piece of paper with the name and number on it and sat down at his desk to make the call without even removing his coat. The call had come in just before midnight. Kjær or Kræmp might still be there. The call was answered and Wallander said who he was looking for.

"Kjær."

Wallander was expecting a man's voice, but Kjær was a woman.

"This is Kurt Wallander from Ystad. I'm returning your call."

"We have some information for you about the picture of that woman. We've had two calls from people who claim to have seen her."

Wallander banged the table with his fist.

"At last."

"I've spoken with one of the callers myself. He seemed very reliable. His name is Anton Bakke. He's a manager at a company that makes office furniture."

"Does he know her personally?"

"No, but he was absolutely convinced he had seen her here in Copenhagen at a bar, close to the Central Station. He's seen her there several times."

"It's extremely important that we speak to this woman."

"Has she committed a crime?"

"We don't know that yet, but she is wanted in co

"I heard about what happened over there. Those young people in the park. And the police officer."

Wallander told her about the latest events.

"And you think this woman had something to do with it?"

"Not necessarily, but I would like to ask her some questions."

"Bakke says there have been periods when he went to this bar as often as several times a week. He saw her there about half the time."

"Was she usually alone?"

"He wasn't sure, but he thought she sometimes came with someone else."

"Did you ask him when he saw her last?"

"When he was there last, sometime in the middle of June."

"What about the other caller?"

"It was a taxi driver who claimed he gave her a ride in Copenhagen a couple of weeks ago."

"A taxi driver sees a lot of people. How can he be sure?"

"He remembered her because she spoke Swedish."

"Where did he pick her up?"

"She waved him down on the street one night, or rather, early one morning. It was around 4.30 a.m., and she said she was catching the first ferry back to Malmö."

Wallander knew he had to make a decision. "We can't ask you to arrest her," he said. "But we do need you to bring her in. We must talk to her."

"We should be able to do that. We can invent a reason."

"Just tell me when she next shows up at that bar. What was its name?"

"The Amigo."

"What kind of a place is it?"

"It's pretty nice, actually, even though it's down on Istedgade."

Wallander knew that the street was in downtown Copenhagen.

"I appreciate your help on this."

"We'll let you know when she turns up."

Wallander wrote down Kjær's full name and her phone numbers. Her first name was Lone. Then he hung up.

It was 1.30 a.m. He rose slowly to his feet and went to the men's room, then drank some water in the canteen. Some dried-up sandwiches lay on a plate, and he picked one of them up. He heard Martinsson's voice out in the hall, speaking to one of the Malmö officers. They came into the canteen a few minutes later.

"How's it going?" he asked, between bites of the sandwich.

"No one's seen anyone other than that one swimmer."

"Do we have a description of him yet?"

"We're trying to piece together everything we've received so far."

"The Danish police called. They may have found Louise."

"Really?"

"Seems like it."

Wallander poured himself a cup of coffee. Martinsson was waiting for him to continue.

"Have they arrested her?"

"They have no grounds to do so. But reports have come in from both a taxi driver and a man who saw her in a bar. They recognised her from the photograph in the paper."

"So her name really is Louise?"

"We don't know that yet."

Wallander yawned. Martinsson did the same. One of the Malmö officers tried to rub the tiredness from his eyes.

"I'd like to see everyone in the conference room," Wallander said.

"Give us 15 minutes," Martinsson said. "I think Hansson's on his way over now, and I'll call A

Wallander took his coffee with him to his office. He looked up and studied the map of Skåne hanging on his wall. First he located Hagestad, then Nybrostrand. Ystad lay nestled in between. The area was small, but this fact didn't lead anywhere in itself. Wallander finally picked up his notebook and walked over to the conference room. He was met by tired, despondent faces. Their clothes were wrinkled, their bodies heavy.

Our killer's probably sleeping peacefully as we speak, Wallander thought, while we're fumbling around in his footsteps.

They went through the various points that were currently under investigation and reported the latest findings. The biggest breakthrough was the fact that no one had seen anyone other than the lone swimmer. That strengthened the case against him.

Wallander looked through his notes. "Unfortunately our description of him is strange and rather contradictory," he said gloomily. "The witnesses can't seem to agree whether he has very short hair or is bald. Those who think he has hair can't agree on the colour. Everyone, however, seems to concur that he doesn't have a round face. It seems to be long, or 'horsey', as two independent witnesses have said. Furthermore, everyone seems to agree that he wasn't very ta

Wallander pushed the notebook away. "In other words, we really have no description at all," he said.

The silence lay heavy in the room. Wallander realised he had to try to lighten the mood.

"We have to remember that it's impressive how much information we've been able to gather in such a short time," he said. "We'll be able to do even more tomorrow. And it's an enormous step to be able to focus on one suspect. I wouldn't hesitate for a moment to call this a breakthrough."

At 2.40 a.m. he called the meeting to an end. Martinsson was the only one who stayed on. He wanted to fill Wallander in on the information he had received regarding the Divine Movers. He started going through the reports that had come in from the United States and Interpol, but Wallander interrupted him impatiently.

"Has there ever been an incidence of violent crime?" he said. "Have members of this sect ever been the targets of attack?"

"Not from what I can see so far. But I've been told that more files are on their way, both from Washington and Brussels. I'll read through them tonight."

"You should go home and sleep," Wallander said sternly.