The Pyramid

The thought of a new car put him in a good mood. Why he always drove a Peugeot, he couldn't say. I'm probably more stuck in my ways than I like to think, he thought as he left the station. He stopped and inspected the damaged hinge on the front doors of the station. Since no one was around, he took the opportunity to give the door frame a kick. The damage became more noticeable. He walked away quickly, hunched over against the gusty wind. Of course he should have called to make sure that Tyra Olofsson was in. But since she was retired, he took the chance.

When he rang the doorbell, it opened almost at once. Tyra Olofsson was short and wore glasses that testified to her myopia. Wallander explained who he was and held up his ID card, which she held several centimetres from her glasses and studied carefully.

'The police,' she said. 'Then it must have to do with poor Emilia.'

'That's right,' Wallander said. 'I hope I'm not disturbing you.'

She invited him in. There was a strong smell of dogs in the hall. She led him out into the kitchen. Wallander counted fourteen food bowls on the floor. Worse than Haverberg, he thought.

'I keep them outside,' Tyra Olofsson said, having followed his gaze.

Wallander wondered briefly if it was legal to keep so many dogs in the city. She asked if he wanted coffee. Wallander thanked her but declined. He was hungry and pla

'You're right, Mrs Olofsson,' he began. 'This is about Emilia Eberhardsson, who has died so tragically. We heard through one of the neighbours that she had been active in an animal protection association. And that you, Mrs Olofsson, knew her well.'

'Call me Tyra,' she said. 'And I can't say I knew Emilia well. I don't think anyone did.'

'Was her sister A

'No.'

'Isn't that strange? I mean, two sisters, both unmarried who live together. I imagine they would develop similar interests.'

'That is a stereotype,' Tyra Olofsson said firmly. 'I imagine that Emilia and A

'How would you describe Emilia?'

Her answer surprised him.

'Snooty. The kind who always knows best. She could be very unpleasant. But since she donated money for our work, we couldn't get rid of her. Even if we wanted to.'

Tyra Olofsson told him about the local animal protection association that she and a few other like-minded individuals had started in the 1960s. They had always worked locally and the impetus for the association was the increasing problem of abandoned summer cats. The association had always been small, with few members. One day in the early seventies, Emilia Eberhardsson had read about their work in the Ystad Allehanda and got in touch. She had given them money every month and participated in meetings and other events.

'But I don't think she really liked animals,' Tyra said unexpectedly. 'I think she did it so she would be thought of as a good person.'

'That doesn't sound like such a nice description.'

The woman on the other side of the table looked cheekily at him.

'I thought policemen wanted to know the truth,' she said. 'Or am I wrong?'

Wallander changed the subject and asked about money.

'She donated a thousand kronor a month. For us that was a lot.'

'Did she give the impression of being rich?'

'She never dressed expensively. But I'm sure she had money.'

'You must have asked yourself where it came from. A sewing shop is hardly something one associates with a fortune.'

'Not one thousand kronor a month either,' she answered. 'I'm not particularly curious. Perhaps it's because I see so badly. But where the money came from or how well their shop did, I know nothing about.'

Wallander hesitated for a moment, and then he told her the truth.

'It has been reported in the papers that the sisters burned to death,' he said, 'but it has not been reported that they were shot. They were already dead when the fire started.'

She sat up.

'Who could have wanted to shoot two old ladies? That's as likely as someone wanting to kill me.'

'That is exactly what we are trying to understand,' Wallander said. 'That's why I'm here. Did Emilia ever say anything about having enemies? Did she appear frightened?'

Tyra Olofsson did not have to reflect.

'She was always very sure of herself,' she said. 'She never said a word about her and her sister's life. And when they were away she never sent a postcard. Not once, even with all the wonderful postcards with animal motifs that you can get these days.'

Wallander raised his eyebrows.

'You mean they travelled a lot?'

'Two months out of every year. November and March. Sometimes in the summer.'

'Where did they go?'

'I heard it was Spain.'

'Who took care of their shop?'

'They always took turns. Perhaps they needed time apart.'

'Spain? What else do the rumours say? And where do these rumours come from?'

'I can't remember. I don't listen to rumours. Perhaps they went to Marbella. But I'm not sure.'

Wallander wondered if Tyra Olofsson was really as uninterested in rumours and gossip as she seemed. He had only one remaining question.

'Who do you think knew Emilia best?'

'I would think it was her sister.'

Wallander thanked her and walked back to the station. The wind was even stronger. He thought about what Tyra Olofsson had said. There had been no mea

When Wallander reached the station, Ebba told him that Rydberg had been looking for him. Wallander went straight to his office.

'The picture is becoming clearer,' Rydberg said. 'I think we should get the others and have a short meeting. I know they're around.'

'What's happened?'

Rydberg waved a bunch of papers.

'VPC,' he said. 'And there's a great deal of interest in these papers.'

It took Wallander a moment to remember that VPC stood for the Swedish securities register centre, which, among other things, recorded stock ownership.

'For my part I've managed to establish that at least one of the sisters was a genuinely unpleasant person,' Wallander said.

'Doesn't surprise me in the least,' Rydberg chuckled. 'The rich often are.'

'Rich?' Wallander asked.

But Rydberg did not answer until they were all assembled in the conference room. Then he explained himself in detail.

'According to the Swedish securities register centre, the Eberhardsson sisters had stocks and bonds totalling close to ten million kronor. How they managed to keep this from being subject to the wealth tax is a mystery. Nor do they appear to have paid income tax on their dividends. But I've alerted the tax authorities. It actually appears that A

Rydberg put down the documents.

'We can thus not exclude the possibility that what we see here is only the tip of the proverbial iceberg. Five million in a safe and ten million in stocks and bonds. This is what we have uncovered in the space of a few hours. What happens after we've been working for a week? Perhaps the amount will increase to one hundred million?'