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day off without us being told about it."
    "He's already been on holiday," Martinsson said emphatically. "He hasn't got any holidays left."
    Wallander looked at him with surprise. "How do you know that?"
    "I asked him if he could switch one of his weeks with me. But he couldn't because for once he wanted an unbroken chunk of time."
    "I don't think he's ever done that before," Wallander said.
    They parted outside Martinsson's office and Wallander went to his office. He sat down at his desk and dialled the first phone number Martinsson had given him. Eva Hillström answered the phone. They agreed that she should come by the police station later that afternoon.
    "Has anything happened?" she asked.
    "No," Wallander answered. "I just think I should talk to you as well."
    He hung up and was about to go and get a cup of coffee when Höglund appeared at his door. Although she had just returned from a holiday, she was as pale as ever. Wallander thought her pallor came from within. She still hadn't recovered from a serious gunshot wound of two years earlier. She was healed physically, but Wallander doubted how well she was emotionally. Sometimes he felt that she was still afraid. It didn't surprise him. Almost every day, he thought about the time that he had been stabbed. And that had happened more than 20 years ago.
    "Is this a good time?"
    Wallander gestured to the chair opposite his desk, and she sat down.
    "Have you seen Svedberg?" he asked.
    She shook her head.
    "He was supposed to come to a meeting with me and Martinsson, but he didn't show up."
    "He's not one to miss a meeting."
    "You're right. But he did today."
    "Have you called him at home? Is he sick?"
    "Martinsson left several messages on his answerphone. And besides, Svedberg is never sick."
    They contemplated Svedberg's absence for a while.
    "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" Wallander asked finally.
    "Do you remember those Baltic car smugglers?"
    "How could I forget? I worked on that miserable case for two years before we got them. At least the ones in Sweden."
    "Well, it seems as though it's started up again."
    "Even with the leaders in jail?"
    "It looks like others have stepped in to fill their shoes. Only this time they aren't working out of Gothenburg. Their tracks point towards Lycksele, among other places."
    Wallander was surprised. "Lapland?"
    "With today's technology you can operate from virtually anywhere."
    Wallander shook his head, but he knew that Höglund was right. Organised criminals always made use of the latest technology.
    "I don't have the energy to start again," he said. "No more car smuggling for me."
    "I'll take it on. Lisa asked me to. I think she realises how tired you are of stolen cars. But I'd like you to outline the situation for me, as well as give me a couple of pointers."
    Wallander nodded. They set a time for the next day, then went and got some coffee and sat down by an open window in the canteen.
    "How was your holiday?" he asked.
    Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. Wallander went to say something but she stopped him with a gesture.
    "It wasn't so great," she said when she had regained her composure. "But I don't want to talk about it."
    She picked up her cup of coffee and got up quickly. Wallander watched her leave. He remained seated, thinking about her reaction.
    We don't know very much, he thought. They don't know much about me and I don't know much about them. We work together, maybe over the course of an entire career, and what do we learn about each other? Nothing.
    He looked down at his watch. He had plenty of time, but he decided to set off walking down to Kapellgatan, where the doctor's office was. He was filled with dread.
    The doctor was young. He was called Göransson and came from somewhere up north. Wallander told him about his symptoms: the fatigue, the thirst, the increased urination. He also mentioned his leg cramps.
    The doctor's diagnosis was swift, and surprised him.
    "It sounds like too much sugar," he