worry."
It doesn't add up, Wallander thought again. There's something in this picture of perfection that simply doesn't add up.
He got to his feet and thanked Pastor Tureson. "I'll be talking with other members of your congregation," he said. "If she doesn't turn up, that is."
"She'll have to turn up," Pastor Tureson said. "There's no other possibility."
It was 4.05 p.m. as when Wallander left the Methodist chapel. It had started raining, and he shivered in the wind. He sat in the car for a while, feeling how tired he was. It was as if he couldn't cope with the thought that two little girls had lost their mother.
At 4.30 they were all gathered in Bjork's office at the station. Martinsson was slumped back on the sofa; Svedberg leaned against a wall. He was scratching his bald head as usual, as if searching absentmindedly for the hair he had lost. Wallander sat on a wooden chair. Bjork was leaning over his desk, engrossed in a telephone conversation. At last he put down the receiver and told Ebba they were not to be disturbed for the next half-hour. Unless it was Robert Akerblom.
"Where are we?" Bjork said. "Where shall we start?"
"We are nowhere," Wallander said.
"I've filled in Svedberg and Martinsson," Bjork said. "We've put out a search for Mrs Akerblom's car. All the usual routines for missing person cases we consider to be serious."
"Not consider to be serious," Wallander said. " Are serious. If there had been an accident, we'd have heard about it by now. But we haven't. That means we're dealing with a crime. I'm sure she's dead."
Martinsson began to ask a question, but Wallander interrupted him and summarised what he'd been doing that afternoon. He had to get his colleagues to see what he had realised. A person like Louise Akerblom would not of her own free will abandon her family. Somebody or something must have forced her to fail to arrive home at 5 p.m., as she had promised on the telephone.
"It sounds nasty, no doubt about that," Bjork said, when Wallander had finished.
"Estate agent, free church member, family," said Martinsson. "Maybe it all got too much for her? She buys the pastries, drives off home. Then all of a sudden she turns around and heads for Copenhagen instead."
"We have to find the car," Svedberg said. "Without it, we won't get anywhere."
"First of all we have to find the house she was going to see," Wallander said. "Hasn't Robert Akerblom called yet?"
No-one had heard from him.
"If she really did go to see that house somewhere near Krageholm, we ought to be able to follow her tracks until we find her, or until the tracks come to an end."
"Peters and Noren have been combing the side roads around Krageholm," Bjork said. "No Toyota Corolla. They did find a stolen truck, though."
Wallander took the cassette from the answering machine out of his pocket. With some considerable difficulty they eventually managed to find a machine to play it. They all stood around the desk, listening to Louise Akerblom's voice.
"We have to analyse the tape," Wallander said. "I can't imagine what the technical guys could possibly find. But still."
"One thing is clear," Martinsson said. "When she left her message she wasn't threatened or pressured, scared or worried, desperate or unhappy."
"Which means something must have happened," Wallander said. "Between 3 p.m. and 5 p.m. Somewhere in the area of Skurup, Krageholm, Ystad. A little over three days ago."
"How was she dressed?" Bjork said.
Wallander realised he'd forgotten to ask her husband this most basic question. He admitted as much.
"I still think there could be a natural explanation," Martinsson said, thoughtfully. "It's as you say yourself, Kurt. She's not the type to disappear of her own free will. But assault and murder are still pretty rare. I think we should go about it in the usual way. Not get hysterical."
"I'm not hysterical," Wallander said, knowing that he was getting angry. "I know what I think, though, and I think certain conclusions
It doesn't add up, Wallander thought again. There's something in this picture of perfection that simply doesn't add up.
He got to his feet and thanked Pastor Tureson. "I'll be talking with other members of your congregation," he said. "If she doesn't turn up, that is."
"She'll have to turn up," Pastor Tureson said. "There's no other possibility."
It was 4.05 p.m. as when Wallander left the Methodist chapel. It had started raining, and he shivered in the wind. He sat in the car for a while, feeling how tired he was. It was as if he couldn't cope with the thought that two little girls had lost their mother.
At 4.30 they were all gathered in Bjork's office at the station. Martinsson was slumped back on the sofa; Svedberg leaned against a wall. He was scratching his bald head as usual, as if searching absentmindedly for the hair he had lost. Wallander sat on a wooden chair. Bjork was leaning over his desk, engrossed in a telephone conversation. At last he put down the receiver and told Ebba they were not to be disturbed for the next half-hour. Unless it was Robert Akerblom.
"Where are we?" Bjork said. "Where shall we start?"
"We are nowhere," Wallander said.
"I've filled in Svedberg and Martinsson," Bjork said. "We've put out a search for Mrs Akerblom's car. All the usual routines for missing person cases we consider to be serious."
"Not consider to be serious," Wallander said. " Are serious. If there had been an accident, we'd have heard about it by now. But we haven't. That means we're dealing with a crime. I'm sure she's dead."
Martinsson began to ask a question, but Wallander interrupted him and summarised what he'd been doing that afternoon. He had to get his colleagues to see what he had realised. A person like Louise Akerblom would not of her own free will abandon her family. Somebody or something must have forced her to fail to arrive home at 5 p.m., as she had promised on the telephone.
"It sounds nasty, no doubt about that," Bjork said, when Wallander had finished.
"Estate agent, free church member, family," said Martinsson. "Maybe it all got too much for her? She buys the pastries, drives off home. Then all of a sudden she turns around and heads for Copenhagen instead."
"We have to find the car," Svedberg said. "Without it, we won't get anywhere."
"First of all we have to find the house she was going to see," Wallander said. "Hasn't Robert Akerblom called yet?"
No-one had heard from him.
"If she really did go to see that house somewhere near Krageholm, we ought to be able to follow her tracks until we find her, or until the tracks come to an end."
"Peters and Noren have been combing the side roads around Krageholm," Bjork said. "No Toyota Corolla. They did find a stolen truck, though."
Wallander took the cassette from the answering machine out of his pocket. With some considerable difficulty they eventually managed to find a machine to play it. They all stood around the desk, listening to Louise Akerblom's voice.
"We have to analyse the tape," Wallander said. "I can't imagine what the technical guys could possibly find. But still."
"One thing is clear," Martinsson said. "When she left her message she wasn't threatened or pressured, scared or worried, desperate or unhappy."
"Which means something must have happened," Wallander said. "Between 3 p.m. and 5 p.m. Somewhere in the area of Skurup, Krageholm, Ystad. A little over three days ago."
"How was she dressed?" Bjork said.
Wallander realised he'd forgotten to ask her husband this most basic question. He admitted as much.
"I still think there could be a natural explanation," Martinsson said, thoughtfully. "It's as you say yourself, Kurt. She's not the type to disappear of her own free will. But assault and murder are still pretty rare. I think we should go about it in the usual way. Not get hysterical."
"I'm not hysterical," Wallander said, knowing that he was getting angry. "I know what I think, though, and I think certain conclusions
Similar Books
Unknown
Unknown
The Eden Series: The Complete Collection
Janelle Stalder
Kilting Me Softly: 1
Persephone Jones
Darkness Under the Sun
Dean Koontz
Sybil
Flora Rheta Schreiber
The Pyramid
William Golding
Nothing is Forever
Grace Thompson
Series of Unfortunate Events: The Grim Grotto
Lemony Snicket
The Tiger's Wife
Tea Obreht