The Pyramid

Their hopes were dashed on the morning of the thirty-first. The forensic ballistic specialists were able to determine that the weapon that had been found in Nilsmark's home had not been the one used to kill either the Eberhardsson sisters or Holm. For a moment, the investigative squad was deflated. Only Rydberg and Wallander had suspected that the message would most likely be in the negative. The Malmö police had also been able to confirm Nilsmark's trip to Copenhagen. He could not have been in Ystad when the sisters were slain. Hyttner also believed that Nilsmark would be able to produce an alibi for the time period of Holm's death.

'That puts us back at square one,' Wallander said. 'In the new year we are going to have to start again at full speed. Review the material again and work deeper.'

No one made any more comments. During the new year's holiday, the investigation would be put on hold. Since they had no immediate leads Wallander felt that what they needed most was to rest. Then they wished one another a happy new year. Finally, only Rydberg and Wallander were left.

'We knew this,' Rydberg said. 'Both you and I. That it would have been too easy with that Nilsmark. Why the hell would he have kept the weapon? It was wrong from the start.'

'But we still had to look into it.'

'Police work often consists of doing what one knows from the start to be meaningless,' Rydberg said. 'But it is as you say. No stone can be left unturned.'

Then they talked about New Year's Eve.

'I don't envy my colleagues in the big cities,' Rydberg said.

'It can get messy here too.'

Rydberg asked Wallander what he was going to do.

'I'll be out with the old man in Löderup. He wants cognac, we'll have a bite to eat, play cards, yawn and then drink a toast at midnight. Then I'll go home.'

'I try to avoid staying up,' Rydberg said. 'New Year's Eve is a ghost. It's one of the few times during the year that I take a sleeping pill.'

Wallander wanted to ask how Rydberg was feeling, but he decided to let it be.

They shook hands, as if to mark the day as special.

Then Wallander went to his office, put out an almanac for 1990 and cleaned out his drawers. It was a habit he had acquired over the past few years. New Year's Eve was for cleaning out drawers, to rid himself of old paper.

Wallander was amazed at all the old junk he found. A bottle of glue had leaked in one of the drawers. He fetched a knife from the break room and started to scrape it away. From the corridor he could hear an outraged drunk let it be known that he did not have time to waste at the station because he was on his way to a party. It's already started, Wallander thought, and he took the knife back to the break room. He threw the bottle of glue into the bin.

At seven o'clock he went home, had a shower and changed his clothes. Shortly after eight he was out in Löderup. On the road he had continued to grope around for the thought that bothered him, without success. His father had made a fish gratin that was surprisingly tasty. Wallander had managed to buy cognac and his father nodded approvingly when he saw that it was He

A little after nine they sat down and played poker. Wallander got three of a kind two times but threw one of his cards away each time so that his father could win. At around eleven, Wallander walked outside to relieve himself. It was clear and had grown colder. The stars were sparkling.

Wallander thought of the pyramids. The fact that they were lit by strong spotlights meant the Egyptian night sky had been all but invisible. He went back inside. His father had downed several glasses of cognac and was starting to get drunk. Wallander only had small sips since he was pla

Linda called at half past eleven. They took turns talking to her. In the background Wallander heard the sounds of a stereo turned up very high. They had to shout at each other.

'You would have had a better time with us,' Wallander shouted.

'You don't know anything about it,' she yelled back, but it sounded friendly.

They wished each other a happy new year. His father had yet another glass of cognac. He was starting to spill as he refilled his glass. But he was in good spirits. And that was the only thing that mattered to Wallander.

They sat in front of the TV at twelve and watched Jarl Kulle ring in the new year. Wallander glanced at his father, who actually had tears in his eyes. He was not touched himself, only tired. He also thought with dread about the coming day when he would get together with Emma Lundin. It was as if he was cheating at cards with her. If he was going to make a New Year's resolution this evening it should be to tell her the truth as soon as possible, that he did not want to continue the relationship.

But he made no resolution.

He went home a little before one. But first he had helped his father into bed. He had taken off his shoes and spread a blanket over him.

'We'll go to Italy soon,' his father said.

Wallander cleaned up in the kitchen. His father's snores were already rolling through the house.

On the morning of New Year's Day, Wallander woke up with a headache and a sore throat. He said as much to Emma Lundin when she came by at twelve o'clock. Since she was a nurse and Wallander was both hot and pale she didn't doubt that it was true. She checked his throat.

'A three-day cold,' she pronounced. 'Stay home.'

She made some tea that they drank in the living room. Wallander tried several times to tell her what he was thinking. But when she left at around three they had not arrived at anything except that Wallander would be in touch with her when he felt better.

Wallander spent the rest of the day in bed. He started to read several books without being able to concentrate. Not even The Mysterious Island by Jules Verne, his favourite, was able to kindle his interest. But he was reminded of the fact that one of the characters in the book had the same name – Ayrton – as one of the dead pilots who had finally been identified.

For long periods of time he lay in a kind of half-stupor. The pyramids returned again and again in his thoughts. His father climbed and fell, or else he found himself deep down in a narrow passageway where enormous masses of stone were suspended above his head.

In the evening he managed to find a packet of dried soup in one of the kitchen drawers, which he made. But he poured almost all of it out. His appetite was almost non-existent.

The following day he still felt ill. He called Martinsson and said he was pla

He went back to bed and fell asleep again.

Suddenly he woke up with a start. He had dreamed about the pyramids again. But it was something else that had awakened him. Something that had to do with the thought that had eluded him.

What is it that I don't see? he wondered. He lay in absolute stillness and stared out into the darkened room. It had something to do with the pyramids. And with New Year's Eve at his father's in Löderup. When he had been standing out in the garden, staring up at the sky, he had seen the stars. Since it was dark all around him. The pyramids outside Cairo had been illuminated by strong lights. They had detracted from the light of the stars.