Firewall. Part 2

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT.

Wallander and Martinsson met in the corridor outside the canteen at the station at exactly 8 a.m. on Sunday. It was as if they had decided on the time and place in advance. Since they walked towards the canteen from opposite ends of the corridor, Wallander felt as if they were partic.i.p.ating in a duel. But instead of drawing pistols, they nodded curtly at each other and went in to get coffee. The coffee machine had broken down again. They read the handwritten sign that had been affixed to the front. Martinsson had a black eye and his lower lip was swollen."I'm going to get you for what you did," Martinsson said. "But first we have to finish this case.""It was wrong of me to hit you," Wallander said. "But that's all I'll take back."They said nothing more. Hansson came in and watched them, uneasily.Wallander suggested they may as well have their meeting in the canteen rather than move to a conference room. Hansson put on a pot of water and offered to make them coffee from his private stash. Just as they were pouring it out, Hoglund arrived. Wallander a.s.sumed it was Hansson who would have told her of the death of the man called Cheng, but it turned out to have been Martinsson. Wallander gathered that he had said nothing about the fight, but noticed that Martinsson looked at her with a new coldness. Probably he had spent the brief night working out who could have given him away to Wallander.Once Alfredsson joined them they were ready to begin the meeting. Wallander asked Hansson to brief Viktorsson on the night's events. In the present situation it was more than ever important that the prosecutor's office were kept abreast. There would probably be a press conference later in the day, but Chief Holgersson would have to take care of it. Wallander asked Hoglund to a.s.sist her if she had time. She looked surprised."But I wasn't even there.""You don't need to say anything. I just want you there so you can hear what Holgersson says. Particularly if she happens to say something stupid."A stunned silence greeted his last comment. No-one had heard him openly criticise Holgersson before. It was not premeditated on his part, it just slipped out. He felt another wave of exhaustion, of being burned out, maybe even old. Of course, his age excused his speaking plainly.He moved on to the most pressing matter."We have to concentrate our efforts on Falk's computer. Whatever is programmed into it is going to take effect on October 20. We therefore have less than 16 hours to figure out what that is.""Where is Modin?" Hansson said.Wallander drained the last of his coffee and got up."I'm going to pick him up. Let's get going, everybody."As they filed out of the canteen, Hoglund grabbed his arm. He tried to shake her off."Not now. I have to get Modin.""Where is he?""With a friend of mine.""Can't anyone else get him?""Of course they could, but I need the time to collect my thoughts. How to use the short amount of time we have most effectively. What does it mean that Cheng is dead?""That's what I wanted to talk to you about."Wallander stopped. "All right," he said, "you have five minutes.""It seems as if we haven't posed the most important question.""And what might that be?""Why he shot himself and not you."Wallander was getting irritated. He was irritated at everything and everyone and made no attempt to hide it."And what's your opinion on that?""I wasn't there. I don't know how things looked out there or what precisely happened. But I do know that it takes an awful lot, even for a person like that, to pull the trigger on himself.""And how do you know this?""You have to admit I have some experience after all these years."Wallander knew he was lecturing her as he answered, but he couldn't help it. "The question is what your experience is really worth in this case. This person killed at least two people before he died and he would not have hesitated a moment to kill me. We don't know what was driving him, but he must have been a totally ruthless person. What happened was, he heard and saw the helicopter coming and he knew he was not going to get away in time. We know the people involved in this case are fanatical in some way. In this instance the fanaticism was turned on himself."Hoglund wanted to say something more, but Wallander was already on his way to the front door."I have to get Modin," he said. "We can talk more later. If our world still exists, that is."Wallander left the station. It was 8.45 a.m. and he was in a hurry. He drove at a very high speed. At one point he swerved to miss a hare, but one of his back wheels. .h.i.t the animal. He could see its legs jerking when he looked in the rear-view mirror, but he didn't stop.He reached the house in Jagersro at 9.40 a.m. Elvira opened the door almost as soon as he rang the bell. She was dressed to go out, but Wallander could tell that she was very tired. In some way she seemed different from when he had seen her last. But her smile was the same. She asked if he wanted a cup of coffee. Wallander looked past her and saw Robert Modin drinking a cup of tea in the kitchen. Wallander wanted nothing more than to drink a cup of coffee with her, but he declined her offer. They had so little time. She insisted, took his arm and almost pulled him into the kitchen. Wallander saw her cast a quick glance at her watch. That made him suspicious. She wants me to stay, he thought. But not too long. She's expecting someone else. He said no thank you again and told Modin to get ready."People who are always in a hurry make me nervous," she complained after Modin had left the kitchen."Then you've found my first flaw," Wallander said. "I'm sorry about this, but it can't be helped. We need Modin in Ystad right away.""What is it that is so urgent?""I haven't time to explain," Wallander said. "Let me just say that we're a bit worried about October 20. And that's tomorrow."Tired as Wallander was, he noticed a hint of worry in her face. Then she smiled again. Wallander wondered if perhaps she was afraid, but he dismissed the thought.Modin came down the stairs. He carried a laptop in each hand."And when will I be seeing you again?" Elvira said."I'll call you," Wallander said. "I don't know yet."They drove back to Ystad, at a slightly slower speed."I woke up early," Modin said. "I had some new ideas that I would like to try out."Wallander considered telling him what had happened during the night, but he decided to wait. Right now it was important for Modin to stay focused. They kept driving in silence. It was pointless for Wallander to ask Modin what his ideas were since he would not understand the answers.They came to the place where Wallander had run over the hare. A murder of crows took off as they appeared. The hare was already dismembered beyond recognition. Wallander told Modin that he was the one who had run him over."You see hundreds of dead hares along this road," Wallander said. "But it's only when you kill one yourself that you actually see it."Modin turned and stared at him. "Could you say that last part again? About the hare?"Wallander repeated what he had said."Exactly," Modin said. "That's it. Of course."Wallander looked at him, questioningly."I'm thinking about what we're looking for in Falk's computer," Modin said. "The way to think about it may be to look for something we've seen a hundred times without really noticing."Then Modin sank back into thought. Wallander was not sure he had understood this insight.At 11 a.m. he stopped the car in Runnerstroms Torg. From here on in he was dependent on what Alfredsson and Modin would be able to accomplish, with the a.s.sistance of Martinsson. The most useful thing he could do would be to try to maintain the large perspective, and not think he would be able to dive into the electronic sphere with the others. He hoped Martinsson and Alfredsson would have the sense not to tell Modin what had happened last night. He should really have taken Martinsson aside and told him that Modin knew nothing about the events, but he couldn't stand to talk to him more than was absolutely necessary."It's 11 a.m.," he said, as they had gathered around the desk. "That means we have 13 hours left until it is officially October 20. Time is of the essence, in other words.""Nyberg called," Martinsson said, interrupting him."What did he have to say for himself?""Not much. The weapon was a Makarov, 9mm. He thought it would turn out to be the weapon used in the flat on Apelbergsgatan.""Did the man have any identification?""He had three different pa.s.sports. Korean, Thai and strangely enough Romanian.""Not one from Angola?""No.""I'm going to talk to Nyberg," Wallander said, but first he resumed his general remarks. Modin sat impatiently in front of the computer."We have only 13 hours left until October 20," he repeated. "And right now we have three main points of interest. Everything else can wait."Wallander looked around. Martinsson's face was devoid of expression. The swelling at his lower lip had a hint of blue."The first question is if October 20 is the real date," Wallander said. "If it is, what will happen? The third question that follows from this is: if something is about to happen, how can we go about preventing it? Nothing else matters except these three things.""There haven't been any responses from abroad," Alfredsson said.Wallander suddenly remembered the paper he should have signed and authorised before it was sent out to police organisations across the world.Martinsson must have read his mind. "I signed it. To save time."Wallander nodded. "And no-one has written back or sent other inquiries?""Nothing yet. But it hasn't been long, and it is still a Sunday.""That means that we're on our own for now." Wallander looked at Modin. "Robert told me on the way over that he had some new ideas. Hopefully, they will lead us to new information.""I'm convinced it's October 20," Modin said."Your job is to convince the rest of us.""I need an hour," Modin said."We have 13," Wallander said. "And let us all a.s.sume for now that we have no more than that."Wallander walked away. Best to leave them alone. He drove to the station.What is it that I've overlooked? he asked himself. Is there a clue in all of this that could bring everything together in a single stroke? The thoughts in his head tumbled around without connecting. Then he thought back to when he had seen Elvira in Malmo. She had seemed different today. He couldn't say exactly what it was, but he knew it was something and it worried him. The last thing he wanted was for her to start finding fault with him at this stage. Perhaps taking Robert to her had been a mistake. Perhaps he had involved her too abruptly into the harsh realities of his life.He tried to shake off these thoughts. When he got to the station he looked for Hansson. He was in his office researching companies from a list that Martinsson had compiled. Wallander asked him how it was going and Hansson shook his head despondently."Nothing hangs together," he said. "The only common denominator seems to be that they are financial inst.i.tutions. Most of them, but there's also a telecommunications company and a satellite company."Wallander frowned. "What was the last one?""A satellite company in Atlanta, Telsat Communications. As far as I can tell, they rent broadcasting s.p.a.ce on a number of communications satellites.""Which fits with the telecommunications company.""I suppose you can even get it to fit with the financial companies from the standpoint that they're also involved in the electronic transfer of large sums of money."Wallander thought of something. "Can you see if any of the company's satellites cover Angola?"Hansson typed something into the computer. Wallander noticed that he had to wait longer than he usually did with Martinsson."Their satellite coverage covers the globe," he said finally. "Even to the poles."Wallander nodded. "It may mean something," he said. "Call Martinsson and tell him."Hansson took the opportunity to ask something else."What was all that about last night?""Martinsson is full of s.h.i.t," Wallander said. "But we won't go into that right now."Chief Holgersson organised a press conference for 2 p.m. She had tried to reach Wallander beforehand, but he instructed Hoglund to say he was out of the office. He stood at his window for a long time and stared at the water tower. The clouds were gone. It was a cold and clear October day.At 3 p.m. he couldn't stand it any longer and drove to Runnerstroms Torg, walking in on an intense debate about how best to interpret a new combination of numbers. Modin tried to involve Wallander, but he shook his head.At 5 p.m. he went out and bought himself a hamburger. When he came back to the station he called Elvira, but there was no answer, not even an answerphone. He was immediately jealous, but too tired and distracted to dwell on it.At 6.30 p.m. Ebba turned up unexpectedly. She had brought some food for Modin. Wallander asked Hansson to drive her to Runnerstroms Torg. Afterwards he realised that he hadn't thanked her enough.At 7 p.m. he called the team at Runnerstroms Torg and Martinsson answered. Their conversation was brief. They were not yet able to answer a single one of Wallander's questions. He put down the phone and went to find Hansson who was sitting in front of the computer with bloodshot eyes. Wallander asked if there had been any response from overseas. Hansson had only one word in reply: nothing.At that moment Wallander was overcome by rage. He grabbed one of the chairs in Hansson's office and threw it against the wall. Then he left the room.At 8 p.m. he was back in Hansson's office."Let's go to Runnerstroms Torg," he said. "We can't go on like this. We have to get some idea of where we stand."They stopped at Hoglund's office on the way. She was half asleep at her desk. They drove in silence. When they reached the flat they saw Modin sitting on the floor against the wall, Martinsson on his folding chair and Alfredsson lying flat on the floor. Wallander wondered if he had ever led a more exhausted and dispirited team. He knew that the physical tiredness was due more to their lack of progress than to the events of the night before. If only they had come a few steps closer to the truth, if only they could break down the wall, they could each summon sufficient energy to see it through. But for now the dominant mood was one of hopelessness.Wallander sat in front of the computer. The others gathered round him, except Martinsson who positioned himself in the background."Let's have a resume of where we are," he said. "What is the situation right now?""There are several indications that the date in question is October 20," Alfredsson said. "But we have no indications of a precise time for the event, so we cannot know if it will begin on the stroke of midnight or at any point after that. Quite possibly, the intended event is a form of computer virus that targets all of these financial inst.i.tutions we have identified. Since they are mostly large and powerful financial inst.i.tutions we imagine the event has something to do with money, but whether we are talking about a form of electronic bank robbery or not we don't know.""What would be the worst thing that could happen?" Wallander said."The collapse of the world financial markets.""But is that even possible?""We've been through this point before. If there were a significant enough disruption of the markets or a severe fluctuation in the dollar, for example, it might incite a panic in the public which would be hard to control.""That's what is going to happen," Modin said.Everyone stared at him. He was sitting with his legs crossed next to Wallander."Why do you say that? Do you know it for a fact?""No, not for a fact. But I think this is going to be so big we can't even imagine it. We're not going to be able to deduce what is going to happen before it's too late.""How does the whole thing start? Isn't there a starting point, some kind of b.u.t.ton that needs to be pressed?""I imagine it will be started by some action so ordinary we would have trouble recognising it as a threat.""The hypothetical coffee machine," Hansson said."The only thing we can do right now is keep going," Wallander said. "We don't have a choice.""I left some diskettes in Malmo," Modin said. "I need them to keep working.""I'll send out a car to get them for you.""I'll go too," Modin said. "I need to get out. And I know of a store in Malmo that stays open late and has the kind of food I like."Wallander nodded and got up. Hansson called for a patrol car that would take Modin to Malmo. Wallander called Elvira. The line was busy. He tried again. Now she answered. He told her what had happened, that Modin needed to come and pick up the diskettes he had left behind. She said it was no problem. Her voice sounded normal now."Can I expect to see you as well?" she said."Unfortunately, I don't have the time right now.""I won't ask you why.""Thank you. It would take too long to explain."Alfredsson and Martinsson were leaning over Falk's computer again. Wallander, Hansson and Hoglund returned to the station. When Wallander reached his office the phone rang. It was the reception desk, telling him he had a visitor."Who is it and what is it about?" Wallander asked. "I'm extremely busy.""It's someone who says she's your neighbour. A Mrs Hartman."Wallander worried that something had happened in his flat. A few years ago there had been a bad leak. Mrs Hartman was a widow who lived in the flat beneath his. That time, too, she had called him at the station."I'll come straight away," Wallander said.When he reached the waiting area, Mrs Hartman was able to a.s.suage his fears. There was no leak, just a letter for him that had been put through her letter box."It must be the post," she complained. "It probably came on Friday, but I've been away and only came back today. I thought it might be important, that's all.""You shouldn't have gone to the trouble, coming down here," Wallander said. "I rarely get post that is so important it can't wait."After Mrs Hartman had left, Wallander went back to his room and opened the letter. There was no return address on the envelope. To his surprise, it was a notice from the dating agency, thanking him for his subscription and saying that they would forward responses as they arrived.Wallander crumpled the letter and threw it into the waste-paper basket. The next couple of seconds his mind was a total blank. He frowned, retrieved the letter, smoothed it out and read it again. Then he looked for the envelope, still without knowing exactly why. He stared at the postmark for a long time. The letter had been posted on Thursday.His mind was still empty.Thursday. It was the dating agency telling him that his information was now entered in their records. But by then he had already received a reply from Elvira Lindfeldt. Her letter had arrived in an envelope that had been brought directly to his door. A letter with no postmark.His thoughts were swirling in his head.He turned and looked at his computer. Was he going crazy? He forced himself to think logically. As he kept staring at his computer a picture was starting to emerge. A plausible sequence of events. It was horrifying.He ran out into the corridor and into Hansson's office."Call the patrol car!" he shouted.Hansson jerked back and stared at him. "Which patrol car?""The one that took Modin to Malmo.""Why?""Just do it."Hansson grabbed the phone. He got through to them in less than two minutes."They're on their way back," he said, putting the phone down.Wallander breathed a sigh of relief."But they left Modin at the house."Wallander felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. "Why did they do that?""Apparently he told them that he was going to keep working from there."Wallander didn't move. His heart was beating very hard. He had trouble believing that it was true, but he himself had suggested the risk of someone breaking into their computers. These break-ins weren't necessarily limited to the investigation material. Someone could just as easily access other files such as a letter that someone sent to a dating agency."Bring your gun with you," he said. "We're leaving.""Where to?""Malmo." Wallander checked his own gun and ammunition. It had been cleaned and tested for him only this morning.Wallander tried to explain the situation along the way, but Hansson seemed to have trouble understanding the story. Wallander kept asking him to try Elvira's number, but there was no answer. Wallander put the police siren on the roof and drove faster. He prayed silently to all the G.o.ds he could think of to spare Modin's life. But already he feared the worst.They drew up outside the house shortly after 10 p.m. There were no lights. The house was dark. They got out. Wallander asked Hansson to wait in the shadows by the gate. Then he turned off his safety catch and walked up the path. When he reached the front door he stopped and listened. Then he rang the bell. There was no answer. He rang again. Then he felt the doork.n.o.b. It was unlocked. He gestured for Hansson to join him."We should send for reinforcements," Hansson said in a whisper."There's no time."Wallander slowly opened the door. He listened. He didn't know what was waiting for them in the dark. He remembered that the light switch was on the wall to the left of the door and, after fumbling for a while, he found it. Before he switched on the light he took a step to one side and crouched down.The hall was empty.Some light fell into the living room. He could see Elvira on the sofa. She was looking at him. Wallander took a deep breath. She didn't move. He knew she was dead. He called out to Hansson. Step by careful step they went into the living room. She had been shot in the neck. The pale yellow sofa was stained with her blood.Then they searched the house, but didn't find anything. Modin was gone. Wallander knew that could only mean one thing. Someone had been waiting for him in the house. The man in the field had not been working alone.

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE.

He had no idea what kept him going that night. He supposed it was half rage and half self-reproach. But the overriding emotion was his fear for what might have happened to Modin. His first terrified thought when he realised that Elvira was dead was that Modin had also been killed. But they had searched the house and established that it was empty, and Wallander realised that Modin might still be alive. Everything up to this point in the case seemed to have been about concealment and secrets and that must be the reason for Modin's abduction. Wallander did not have to remind himself of Hokberg's and Landahl's fate. But this was not the same situation. Then the police had not known what was going to happen. Now that they knew more, they had a better starting point, even though they did not yet know what had happened to Modin.Wallander also had to acknowledge that part of what was fuelling him that night was his sense of having been betrayed, and his bitterness that life had once more cheated him of the prospect of companionship. He could not claim to miss Elvira herself. Her death had mainly frightened him. She had accessed his letter to the dating agency and had got on to him solely with the intention of tricking and manipulating him. And he had been thoroughly taken in. It had been a masterful performance. The shame was excruciating. The rage that coursed through him came from many different sources at once. Nevertheless, Hansson would later tell him how collected and calm he had seemed. His evaluation of the situation and his suggested course of action had been impressively swift.Wallander needed to get back to Ystad just as soon as possible. That was where the heart of the case still was. Hansson would stay in the house, alert the Malmo police and fill them in as necessary. Hansson was also to do something else. Wallander had been very firm on this point. Even though it was the middle of the night, he wanted Hansson to find out more about Elvira Lindfeldt's background. Was there anything that linked her to Angola? Who did she know in Malmo?"Who was she anyway?" Hansson said. "Why was Modin here? How did you know her?"Wallander didn't answer and Hansson never asked him the question again. Afterwards he would sometimes ask people about it when Wallander was not present. The fact was that Wallander must have known her since he placed Modin in her care. But no-one knew anything about this mysterious woman. Despite the investigations that they conducted there was always the sense that her relationship to Wallander was not a matter to be delved into. No-one ever found out exactly what had happened between them.Wallander left Hansson and returned to Ystad. He concentrated on a single question: what had happened to Modin? As he drove through the night he had a feeling that the impending catastrophe was very close. How he was going to prevent it or what it was exactly that needed to be prevented or stopped, he could not say. The important thing was saving Modin's life. Wallander drove at a ridiculous speed. He had asked Hansson to let the others know he was on his way. Hansson had asked if he should call and wake up Chief Holgersson and Wallander had lost his temper and shouted at him. He did not not want him to call her. want him to call her.At 1.30 a.m. Wallander slowed down and turned into the station car park. He shivered from the cold as he ran to the front doors.The others were waiting for him in the conference room. Martinsson, Hoglund and Alfredsson were already there, with Nyberg on his way. Hoglund handed him a cup of coffee that he almost immediately managed to spill down the front of his trousers.Then he got down to business. Modin had disappeared and the woman he had been staying with had been found murdered."The first conclusion we can draw," Wallander said, "is that the man in the field was not working alone. It was a fatal mistake to a.s.sume that that was the case. I should have realised it earlier."Hoglund was the one who asked the inevitable question. "Who was she?""Her name was Elvira Lindfeldt," Wallander said. "She was an acquaintance of mine.""How did she know Modin would be coming to her house tonight?""We'll have to tackle that question later."Did they believe him? Wallander thought he had lied convincingly, but he couldn't tell. He knew he should have told them the truth about the ad to the dating agency and that someone must have broken into his computer and read the letter. But he didn't say any of these things. In his defence, at least what he tried to tell himself, the most important thing was finding Modin.At this point the door opened and Nyberg came in. His pyjama top peeked out from under his anorak."What the h.e.l.l happened?" he said. "Hansson called from Malmo and seemed to be out of his mind. Impossible to understand a single word he was saying.""Sit down," Wallander said. "It's going to be a long night."Then he nodded to Hoglund, who summarised the situation for Nyberg."Don't the Malmo police have their own forensic team?" Nyberg said."I want you to go there," Wallander said. "Not only in case anything else turns up, but also because I need to hear what you think."Nyberg nodded without saying anything. Then he took out a comb and started pulling it through his unruly, thinning hair.Wallander continued. "There is one more conclusion we can draw from all this and it is quite simple: something else is going to happen. And this something is somehow rooted here in Ystad." He looked at Martinsson."I take it someone is still stationed outside Runnerstroms Torg?""No, the surveillance has been called off.""On whose instructions?""Viktorsson thought it was a waste of our resources.""Well, I want a car put back there immediately. I cancelled the surveillance of Apelbergsgatan, which was maybe a mistake. I think I want a car there too from now on."Martinsson left the room and Wallander knew that he would see that the patrol cars were dispatched immediately. They waited in silence for his return. Hoglund offered Nyberg, who was still combing his hair, her make-up mirror so that he could see what he was doing, but he simply growled at her.Martinsson came back. "Done," he said."What we're looking for is the catalyst," Wallander said. "It could be something as simple as Falk's death. At least, that's how I see it. As long as he was alive everything was in control. But then he died, and everything threatened to unravel."Hoglund raised her hand. "Do we know for sure that Falk died from natural causes?""I think it must have been natural causes. I believe that because Falk's death was unexpected. He was in excellent health. But he died, and that's what started the chain reaction. If Falk had lived, Hokberg would be tried and convicted of Lundberg's death. Neither she nor Landahl would have been killed. Landahl would have gone on running errands for Falk. And we would have had no idea of whatever it is that Falk and his a.s.sociates were planning.""So it's only on account of his dying that we know something is going to happen, something that might affect the whole world?" Hoglund said."That's how I see it, yes. If someone else has a better hypothesis I would like to hear it."No-one had.Alfredsson opened his briefcase and tipped out a number of loose papers, some torn, some folded in half. "These are Modin's notes," he said. "They were lying in a corner. Do you think it's worth our while going through them?""That's up to you and Martinsson," Wallander said. "You are the only two who would understand what he's talking about."The phone rang. Hoglund answered it and handed the receiver to Wallander, saying it was Hansson."A neighbour claims she heard a car drive away with squealing tyres at about 9.30 p.m.," he said. "But that's all we have been able to establish. No-one seems to have seen or heard anything else. Not even the shots.""There was more than one?""The doctor says she was shot in the head twice. There are two entry wounds."Wallander felt sick to his stomach. He forced himself to swallow hard."Are you still there?" Hansson said."I'm here. No-one heard the shots?""Not the immediate neighbours anyway, and they're the only ones we've had time to wake up so far.""Who is in charge down there?""An officer called Forsman. I've never met him before."Wallander couldn't recall hearing the name either. "What does he say?""He says he has trouble getting a coherent picture from what I tell him, there's no motive.""Placate him as best you can. We don't have time to brief him right now.""There was one more thing," Hansson said. "Didn't Modin say he was on his way here to collect some diskettes?""That was what he said.""I think I know what room he was staying in, but there are no diskettes there.""He must have taken them with him. Have you found anything else that belongs to him?""Nothing.""Any sign that anyone else was in the house?""One neighbour said that a taxi stopped at the house earlier in the day. A man got out.""Try to find that taxi. It could be important. Make sure Forsman makes that a priority.""You know I have no control over what police from another district choose to do or not to do.""Then you'll have to do this yourself. Did the witness give a description?""All he said was that the man looked lightly dressed for the time of year."It's the man from Luanda, Wallander thought. The one whose name starts with C."This is very important," Wallander repeated. "The taxi probably came from one of the ferry terminals, or from Sturup.""I'll do what I can."Wallander told the others. "I think the reinforcements have arrived," he said. "Probably from as far away as Angola.""I haven't been able to get one single answer to any of my inquiries," Martinsson said. "I've been researching sabotage and terrorist groups that go for financial targets. No-one seems to have any data on them.""You think people like that would be here in Ystad?" Nyberg put his comb down and stared disapprovingly at Wallander, who thought that Nyberg suddenly looked very old. Do the others see me in this way too?"A man originating somewhere from the Far East turns up dead in a field outside Sandhammaren," Wallander said. "He was claiming to be from Hong Kong, but we know this ident.i.ty was forged. This is not the kind of thing that ought to be happening around here, but it does. There really are no longer any remote regions left. If I understand anything about the new technology, it is that it enables you to be at the centre of things from anywhere in the world."The phone rang. It was Hansson. "Forsman is actually pretty good," he said. "Things are moving right along. He's found the taxi.""Where did it come from?""Sturup. You were right.""Has anyone spoken to the driver?""He's right here. His shifts seem to be very long. Forsman says h.e.l.lo by the way. Apparently you met at a conference last spring.""Then give him my regards as well," Wallander said. "Let me talk to this driver.""His name is Stig Lunne. Here he is."Wallander signalled to the others to pa.s.s him a piece of paper and a pen. He told him who he was and what he wanted to know. The driver spoke with such a thick Skne dialect that it was almost impossible, even with Wallander's experience, to understand him. But his answers were impressively concise. He picked his pa.s.senger up at 12.02 p.m. from Sturup. The job had not been booked in advance."Can you describe your pa.s.senger?""Tall.""Anything else?""Thin.""Is that all? Is there anything else you might have noticed?""Tan.""So this man was tall, thin and suntanned?""Yes.""Did he speak Swedish?""No.""What language did he speak?""I don't know. He showed me a piece of paper with the address."Wallander sighed. He persevered and gathered that the man had been wearing a summer suit. He thanked the driver and asked him to be in touch if he thought of anything else.It was 3 a.m. Wallander pa.s.sed on to the others Lunne's description. Martinsson and Alfredsson had some time ago left to go and read Modin's notes. Now they returned."It's hard to get anything from Modin's notes," Alfredsson said. "He writes things like 'What we need to find is a coffee machine that's right under our noses'.""He's referring to the process that triggers the planned event," Wallander said. "We have talked about it, and it's probably something most of us do every day without thinking twice about it. When the right b.u.t.ton is pushed at the right time and place, then something is set in motion.""What sort of b.u.t.ton?" Hoglund said."That's what we were trying to work out."They kept talking. At 4.30 a.m. Hansson called again. Wallander made some notes. From time to time he asked a short question. The conversation lasted 15 minutes."Hansson has managed to dig up a friend of Elvira Lindfeldt," Wallander said. "She had some interesting information for us. Apparently Lindfeldt worked in Pakistan for a couple of years during the seventies.""I thought we were still focused on Angola," Martinsson said."The important thing is, what was she doing in Pakistan?" Wallander said, and looked closer at the back of the envelope on which he had made his notes. "According to this friend she was working for the World Bank. That gives us a connection. But there's more. The friend also said she expressed strange opinions from time to time. She was convinced that the whole financial order had to be restructured and that this could only be accomplished if the existing scheme of things was essentially torn down first.""There must be a number of people involved in this," Martinsson said. "Even if we still don't know where or who they are.""So we're looking for a b.u.t.ton." Nyberg said. "Is that it? Or a lever? Or a light switch? But one that could be anywhere.""Correct.""So, in other words, we know nothing."The room was tense. Wallander looked at his colleagues with something that was nearing desperation. We're not going to make it, he thought. We're not going to find Modin in time.The phone rang again. Wallander had lost count of the times Hansson had called them."Lindfeldt's car," he said. "We should have thought of it earlier.""Yes," Wallander said, "you're right.""It was normally parked on the street outside her house, but it's gone now. We've alerted the district. It's a dark blue VW Golf with the registration FHC 803."All the cars in this case seem to be dark blue, Wallander thought.It was 4.50 a.m. The feeling in the room was tired and heavy. Wallander thought they all looked defeated. No-one seemed to know what to do.Martinsson got up. "I have to have something to eat," he said. "I'm going down to the burger bar on osterleden. Does anyone want anything?"Wallander shook his head. Martinsson made a note of what the others wanted, then he left. A few seconds later he was back."I don't have any money," he said. "Can anyone lend me some?"Wallander had 20 kronor. Strangely enough, no-one else had any cash."I'll go by the cashpoint," Martinsson said and was gone again.Wallander stared blankly at the wall. His head was starting to hurt.But somewhere behind the growing headache an idea formed. He didn't know where it had come from, but suddenly he jumped up. The others stared at him."What did Martinsson say?""He was going to get some food.""Not that. Afterwards.""He said he had to stop at a cashpoint.""How about that?" Wallander asked. "Something right in front of our eyes. Is it our coffee machine?""I don't think I follow," Hoglund said."It's something we do without thinking twice.""Buying some food?""Sticking a card into a cash machine. Getting cash and a printed receipt."Wallander turned to Alfredsson. "Was there anything in Modin's notes about a cash machine?"Alfredsson bit his lip. He looked up at Wallander. "You know, I actually think there was.""What was it?""I can't remember exactly. It didn't strike either me or Martinsson as important."Wallander slammed his fist into the table. "Where are his notes?""Martinsson took them."Wallander was already on his feet and on his way out of the door. Alfredsson followed him to Martinsson's office. Modin's crumpled notes lay on the desk beside Martinsson's phone. Alfredsson started leafing through them while Wallander waited impatiently."Here it is," Alfredsson said and handed him a piece of paper.Wallander put on his gla.s.ses and looked it over. The paper was covered with drawings of hens and cats. At the bottom, among some complicated and, to him, indecipherable calculations, there was a sentence that Modin had underlined so many times that he had torn the paper. Workable trigger. Could it be a cash machine?"Is that the kind of thing you were looking for?" Alfredsson asked.But he didn't get an answer. Wallander was already on his way back to the conference room. He was convinced. What better place? People were using cash dispensers every day, at all times of the day. Somewhere, at some point in time, on the given day, someone would make a transaction and thereby trigger an event that Wallander did not yet understand but had come to fear. He had no way of knowing that this hadn't in fact already taken place."How many cashpoints are there in Ystad?" he asked the others after explaining his new idea. No-one knew."We can find out from the phone book," Hoglund said."If not, you'll have to dig out someone senior from a bank and find out."Nyberg raised his hand. "How can we be so sure that you are right?""You can't," Wallander said. "But it beats sitting here twiddling our thumbs.""What can we do about it anyway?""Even supposing I'm right," Wallander said, "we don't know which cash machine is the trigger. There may be more than one involved. We don't know when or how something is going to happen. But what we can make sure of is that nothing happens.""You're thinking of having all cashpoint transactions suspended?""For now, yes.""Do you realise what that means?""That people will have even more reason to dislike the police. That we'll get abused for a long time. Yes, of course I do.""You can't do this without the prosecutor's blessing. And after consultation with the bank directors."Wallander got up and sat in the chair across from Nyberg. "Right now I don't give a s.h.i.t about any of that. Not even if it becomes the last thing I do as a police officer in Ystad. Or as a police officer, full stop."Hoglund had been going through the phone book. "There are four cash machines in Ystad," she said. "Three in the town centre and one in the shopping precinct. Where we found Falk."Wallander thought about it."Martinsson must have gone to one of the machines closer to osterleden. Call him. You and Alfredsson will have to guard the other two. I'm going up to the one by the department store." He turned to Nyberg. "I'm going to ask you to call Chief Holgersson. Wake her up. Tell her exactly what's going on. Then she'll have to take it from there."Nyberg shook his head. "She'll put a stop to the whole thing.""Call her," Wallander said. "But if you like you could wait until 6 a.m."Nyberg looked at him and smiled."One more thing. We can't forget about Robert and this tall, thin suntanned man. We don't know what language he speaks. But we have to a.s.sume that he or someone else a.s.sociated with him is keeping an eye on the cash machine in question. If you have the slightest suspicion about anyone who approaches one of these machines, call the others immediately.""I have been on many stake-outs in my day," Alfredsson said. "I don't think I've ever staked out a cash machine before.""Some time has to be the first. Do you have a gun?" Alfredsson shook his head. "Get him one," Wallander said to Hoglund. "And now let's get going."It was 5.09 a.m. when Wallander left the station. He drove up to the shopping precinct with mixed feelings. In all likelihood he was wrong about this, but they had gone as far as they could go in the conference room. Wallander parked outside the Inland Revenue building. He zipped up his jacket and looked around. There was no-one to be seen. Dawn was still some time off. Then he walked over to the cash machine. There was no reason to remain concealed. The radio he had brought with him made a noise. Hoglund was broadcasting that they were all in place. Alfredsson had run into problems. Some young drunks had insisted they be allowed to make a withdrawal. He had called for a patrol car to help him out."Keep the car circulating between us," Wallander said. "It will only get worse in an hour or so when people get on the move.""Martinsson withdrew some cash," she said. "And nothing happened.""We don't know that," Wallander said. "Whatever happens, we're not going to see it."The radio fell silent. Wallander looked at a shopping trolley knocked over in the car park. Apart from a pick-up truck the car park was empty. It was 5.27 a.m. On the main road a large truck rattled past on its way to Malmo. Wallander started thinking about Elvira, but decided that he didn't have the energy. He would have to come back to it, to puzzle out how he could have let himself be taken in like that. How he could have been such a fool. Wallander turned his back to the wind and stamped his feet. He heard a car approaching. It was a saloon painted with the sign of an Ystad electrical firm. The man who jumped out was tall and thin. Wallander flinched and took hold of his gun, but then he relaxed. He recognised the man as an electrician who had done some work for his father in Loderup. The man greeted him."Is it out of order?" he said."We're not letting anyone make withdrawals for the time being.""I'll have to go across town then.""Unfortunately it won't work there either.""What's wrong?""It's only a temporary malfunction.""And they called in the police for that?"Wallander didn't answer. The man got back into his car and drove away. Wallander knew that he would not be able to keep people at bay indefinitely with the explanation of a malfunction, and he was already dreading the moment when word got out to the wider public. How had he supposed it would work? Holgersson would put a stop to it the second she found out. Their reasoning was mere speculation. He would not have a leg to stand on and Martinsson would have more grist for his mill.Then he caught sight of a man crossing the car park. He was a young man. He had come out from behind the pick-up truck, and he came walking towards Wallander. It took him several seconds to realise who it was. Modin. Wallander was frozen to the spot. He held his breath. He did not understand. Modin stopped, turning his back to Wallander, who knew instinctively what was going to happen. He threw himself to one side and turned. The man behind him had come from the direction of the supermarket. He was tall and suntanned and he was carrying a gun. He was 10 metres away and there was nowhere for Wallander to run. Wallander closed his eyes. The feeling from the field returned. The bitter end. Here but no longer. He waited for the shot that didn't come. He opened his eyes. The man had the gun pointed at his chest, but he was looking at his watch. The time, Wallander thought. It's time. I was right. I still don't know what is going to happen, but I was right.The man made signs to Wallander to come closer and to put his arms up. He pulled out Wallander's gun and threw it into a rubbish bin next to the cash machine. Then he held out a credit card with his left hand and recited some numbers in heavily accented Swedish: "One, five, five, one."He dropped the card onto the pavement and pointed his gun at it. Wallander picked it up. The man took a few steps to one side and looked again at his watch. Then he pointed to the cash machine. His movements were more brittle now. For the first time the man looked nervous. Wallander walked to the machine. When he turned slightly he could see Modin still where he had stopped. Right now Wallander didn't care what would happen when he put the card in and entered the numbers. Modin was alive. That was all that was important. But how could he continue to protect him? Wallander was searching for a way out. If he tried to attack the man behind him he would be shot at once. Probably Modin would not have time to escape. Wallander fed the card into the machine, and as he did so a shot rang out. The bullet hit the ground behind him and ricocheted. The tall man turned away. Wallander saw Martinsson on the other side of the street, some 25 metres away. He flung himself at the rubbish bin and pulled out his gun. The man aimed and fired at Martinsson but missed. Wallander raised his gun, sighted and squeezed the trigger. He hit the man in the chest and he collapsed."What's happening?" Martinsson shouted."It's safe to come over," Wallander shouted back.The man on the pavement was dead."What made you come here?" Wallander said."If your theory was correct, then it had to be here," Martinsson said. "It makes sense that Falk would have chosen the cash machine closest to his house and the one he always pa.s.sed on his evening walks. I asked Nyberg to watch the cashpoint where I was."Martinsson pointed at the dead man. "Who is he?""I don't know. But I think his name starts with a C.""Is it all finished now?""I believe so, but I don't know what it is that's finished."Wallander felt that he should be thanking Martinsson, but he said nothing. Instead he walked over to Modin. Time enough to talk to Martinsson later.Modin's eyes were filled with tears."He told me to walk towards you. He said that otherwise he would kill my mother and father.""We'll deal with all that in due course," Wallander said. "How are you feeling?""He told me to say I had to stay and finish my work in Malmo. Then he shot her. And we left. I was shut in the boot and could hardly breathe. But we were right.""Yes," Wallander said. "We were right.""Did you find my notes?""Yes.""I didn't start taking it seriously soon enough. A cash machine. A place where people come to take out their money.""You should have said something," Wallander said. "But maybe I should have thought of it myself. We knew it had something to do with money, after all. It should have been an obvious hiding place for something like that.""A cash machine as the launching pad for a virus bomb," Modin said. "It has a certain finesse, don't you think?"Wallander looked at the boy beside him. How much longer could he handle the strain? He was struck by the sense of having stood like this sometime before, with a boy at his side, and he realised that he was thinking of Stefan Fredman. The boy who was now dead and buried."What was it that happened?" Wallander said. "Do you think you can tell me?"Modin nodded. "He was there when she let me in. He threatened me. They locked me in the bathroom. Then I heard him start screaming at her. I could understand him since he was speaking English. At least the parts I could hear.""What did he say?""That she hadn't done her job. That she had shown weakness.""Did you hear anything else?""Only the shots. When he came to unlock the door I thought he was going to kill me too. He had the gun in his hand. But he said I was his hostage and that I had to do what he told me. Otherwise he would kill my parents." Modin's voice had begun to wobble."No hurry for the rest," Wallander said. "That's enough. That's plenty, in fact.""He said they were going to knock out the global financial system. It was going to start here, at this cash machine.""I know," Wallander said. "But now you need to sleep. You have to go home to your parents now."They heard sirens close by. Now Wallander could see a dark blue VW Golf parked behind the pick-up. Impossible to see from where he had been standing.Wallander felt how exhausted he was. And how relieved.Martinsson came over. "We need to talk," he said."I know," Wallander said. "But not now."It was 5.51 a.m. on Monday, October 20. Wallander wondered vaguely what the rest of the winter was going to be like.

CHAPTER FORTY.

On Tuesday, November 11, all the charges against Wallander in the Eva Persson a.s.sault case were dismissed. Hoglund was the one who gave him the news. She had also played a key role in the direction the investigation had taken, but he only found that out later.A few days before, Hoglund had paid a visit to Eva Persson and her mother. No-one knew what had been said during that visit; there had been no record of the conversation, no third party present, although these had been ordered by the court. Hoglund did tell Wallander that she applied a "mild form of emotional blackmail". What that had entailed, she never told him, but Wallander was in time able to put together a reasonably clear picture. He a.s.sumed that she had told Persson to turn her thoughts to the future. She was cleared of the murder of Lundberg, but bringing false charges against a policeman could have unpleasant consequences.The following day Persson and her mother had withdrawn the charges against Wallander. They acknowledged that his version of the events had been correct and that Persson had tried to hit her mother. Wallander could still have been held accountable for his actions in the situation, but the whole matter was swiftly dropped, much to everyone's relief. Hoglund had also seen to it that a number of journalists were advised of the charges being dropped, but that item of news never made it into the papers.This Tuesday was an unusually cold autumn day in Skane, with gusting northerly winds that were occasionally close to storm strength. Wallander had woken early after an unsettled night. He could not recall his dreams in detail, but they involved being hunted and almost choked to death by shadowy figures and by objects bearing down on him.When he arrived at the station around 8 a.m., he only stayed for a short while. He had decided finally to get to the bottom of a question that had been troubling him for a long time. After casting his eye over a few forms and after making sure that the photo alb.u.m Marianne Falk had lent to the police had been returned to her, he left the station and drove to the Hokbergs' house. He had spoken to Erik Hokberg the day before and arranged the meeting. Sonja's brother Emil was at school and her mother was on one of her frequent visits to her sister in Hoor. Erik looked pale, and perhaps he had lost weight. According to a rumour that had reached Wallander, Sonja Hokberg's funeral had been an intensely emotional affair. Wallander stepped into the house and a.s.sured Erik that his business would not take long."You said you wanted to see Sonja's room," Erik said. "But you didn't say why.""I'll explain it to you. Why don't you come with me?""Nothing has been changed. We don't have the energy. Not yet."They walked upstairs and into the pink room, where Wallander had once sensed that something was out of place."I don't think this room has always looked as it does now," he said. "At some point Sonja redecorated it, didn't she?"Hokberg looked baffled. "How do you know that?""I don't know. I'm asking you."Erik swallowed. Wallander waited patiently."It was after that time," Erik said. "The rape. She suddenly took everything down from the walls and got out all her things from when she was a little girl. Things that had been stored in boxes in the attic for years. We never understood why, and she never said anything about it."Something was taken from her, Wallander thought. And she tried to run away from it in two ways: by reverting to a childhood where everything was still all right and by planning a revenge by proxy."That was all I wanted to know," Wallander said."Why is it so important to you now? Nothing matters any more. It won't bring Sonja back. Ruth and Emil and I are living half a life, if that.""Sometimes one feels a need to get to the bottom of things," Wallander said apologetically. "Unanswered questions can hang on and on. But you're right, of course. Sadly, it cannot change anything."They left the room and went back downstairs. Hokberg asked if he would like a cup of coffee, but Wallander declined. He wanted to leave this depressing place as soon as possible.He drove back, parked on Hamngatan and walked to the bookshop that had just opened for the day. He was finally collecting the book he had ordered for Linda. He was shocked at the price. He had it gift-wrapped. Linda was coming the following day.He was back in his office by 9 a.m. At 9.30 he gathered up his files and went to one of the conference rooms. Today they were having a final meeting to discuss the Tynnes Falk case before handing the doc.u.ments over to the prosecutor. Since the investigation of the murder of Elvira Lindfeldt had involved the Malmo police, Inspector Foreman was to be at the meeting.Wallander had not yet heard about the dropped charges against him, but this was not anything that weighed heavily on his mind. The important thing was that Modin had survived. This gave him comfort when he was overwhelmed by thoughts that he might have been able to prevent Jonas Landahl's death if he had been able to think just a little further ahead. Part of him knew that this didn't make sense, but these thoughts came and went regardless.For once Wallander was the last to enter the conference room. He said h.e.l.lo to Forsman and did in fact remember his face from the conference they had both attended. Only two people were missing. Hans Alfredsson had returned to Stockholm and Nyberg was in bed with the flu. Wallander sat down and they started reviewing the case material. They had so much to cover that the meeting ran on until 1 p.m., but at that point they could finally close the books on it.Wallander's memories of the case had started losing clarity and definition in the three weeks that had gone by since the shooting incident at the cashpoint. But the facts they had uncovered since then strongly supported their initial conclusions.The dead man's name was Carter and he came from Luanda. They had now pieced together an ident.i.ty and history for him, and Wallander thought he had at last been able to answer the question he had asked himself so many times during the investigation: what had happened in Angola? Now he knew at least the bare bones of the answer. Falk and Carter had met in Luanda during the 1970s, probably by accident. How that first meeting had gone and what had been said was impossible to reconstruct, but the two clearly had had a great deal in common. They shared many traits in which pride, a taste for revenge and a confused sense of being among the chosen few had predominated. At some point they had begun to lay the plans for an attack on the global financial system. They would fire their electronic missile when the time was right. Carter's extensive familiarity with the structures of financial organisations, coupled with Falk's innovative technological knowledge of the electronic world that connected those inst.i.tutions, had been a potentially lethal combination.Together they had built up a secretive and tightly controlled organisation that came to include such disparate individuals as Fu Cheng, Elvira Lindfeldt and Jonas Landahl. These three had been pulled in, brainwashed and forever ensnared. The picture that had emerged was of a highly hierarchical organisation in which Carter and Falk made all of the decisions. Even if the evidence was as yet insubstantial, there were indications that Carter had himself executed more than one unsatisfactory member of the group.To Wallander, Carter seemed like the archetypal crazed and ruthless sectarian leader, driven by cold calculation. His impression of Falk remained more complicated since he had never been convinced that Falk was possessed of the same ruthlessness. However, Falk did appear to have had a carefully guarded but deep-seated need for affirmation. During the 1960s he had swung from the extreme right to the politically radical left. Finally, he had entirely broken with conventional politics and embarked on his demonic plottings against the human race.The police in Hong Kong had established the true ident.i.ty of Fu Cheng. His real name had been Hua Gang. Interpol had his fingerprints at the scene of several crimes, including two bank robberies in Frankfurt and Ma.r.s.eilles. Though he could not prove it, Wallander suspected that this money had been used to finance parts of Falk and Carter's operations. Hua Gang had been in organised crime for a long time and had been a suspect in murder cases both in Europe and Asia without ever having been convicted. There was no doubt that he had been the killer of both Sonja Hokberg and Jonas Landahl. Fingerprints and reports from witnesses confirmed this. But Hua Gang had been working under the direction of Carter, and perhaps Falk. There was still work to be done in mapping the reach and entire workings of the organisation, but the information they had suggested that there was no longer a reason to fear the group. With Carter and Falk out of the picture the organisation essentially had ceased to exist.Wallander was never able, satisfactorily, to determine why Carter had shot Elvira Lindfeldt. Modin had reported as much as he could about the angry accusations Carter had flung at her before she died. Wallander a.s.sumed that she had known too much and become a liability. Carter must have been in a state of near desperation when he reached Sweden.Still, he had come uncomfortably close to succeeding. If either Modin or Wallander had put the credit card into the machine at exactly 5.31 a.m. that Monday, October 20, they would have unleashed an electronic avalanche. The experts who had been tracing the infiltrations Falk had made into the bank networks had been amazed. Falk and Carter had exposed the major financial inst.i.tutions of the world as shockingly vulnerable to attack. Security specialists around the world were working non-stop to rectify these deficiencies, while yet more groups were trying to construct an accurate picture of what would have happened had the plan actually been set in motion.Luckily, of course, Wallander had not put Carter's Visa card into the machine. And nothing had happened, other than that a selection of cash machines in Skne had gone haywire for the day. Many of them had been shut down, but as yet no problem had been located. Just as mysteriously, they had, in due course, resumed normal working order.They never did find a satisfactory answer to why Sonja Hokberg was thrown against the high-voltage wires at the power substation, nor why Falk had been in possession of the blueprints. They had, however, found out how the burglars had gained entrance to the station. That had been thanks to Hansson's doggedness. It turned out that Moberg, one of the technicians, had come home from leave to find that his house had been broken into. The keys to the station had not been stolen, but Hansson maintained that whoever committed the burglary must have copied them and then had them duplicated by the American manufacturer, probably in return for a considerable sum of money. A simple check had revealed an entry visa in Landahl's pa.s.sport, proving that he had been in the United States in the month following the break-in at Moberg's house. The money may have come from Hua Gang's bank robberies in Frankfurt and Ma.r.s.eilles.Some loose ends were painstakingly tied up, others remained unsolved. They found out that Tynnes Falk had kept a post-office box in Malmo. But they could never work out why he had told Siv Eriksson that he had his mail sent to her address. His journal was never recovered, nor were the fingers that had been severed from his hand. The coroner's office did, however, determine that he had died from natural causes. Enander had been right about one thing: it was not a heart attack. Falk's death was the result of a burst blood vessel in his brain.Other information trickled in. One day Wallander found a long report on his desk from Nyberg in which he described how they had determined that the empty case in Landahl's cabin on the ferry had, indeed, belonged to Falk. Nyberg had not been able to find the contents, but he a.s.sumed that Hua Gang had thrown them overboard in an effort to delay the identification of the body. They only ever recovered his pa.s.sport. Wallander put the report aside with a sigh.The crucial task had been the mapping of Carter and Falk's strange world. Wallander knew now that their ambitions had known no bounds. After their intended crippling of the world markets they had plans to strangle important utilities worldwide. They had been motivated in no small part by their vanity and an intoxication with their sense of power. Wallander thought that it was this weakness which had tempted Carter to have the electrical relay brought to the morgue and to have Falk's fingers cut off. There had been religious overtones in the macabre world where Carter and Falk had figured as not only overseers but also as deities.Although Carter and Falk had lived in the idiosyncratic realm of their own deranged fantasies, Wallander had started to sense that at least their plan had cast attention on an important insight: the bewildering vulnerability of modern society.Sometimes he thought about it for a long time late at night. During the past three decades a society had been emerging which he did not fully recognise. In his work he was forever confronted with the consequences of brutal forces that hurled people to the outer margins. The walls surrounding these outcasts were dauntingly high: drugs, unemployment, social indifference.These changes were accompanied by a parallel development in which members of society were being connected ever more tightly by new technological innovations. But this highly efficient electronic network came at the cost of increased vulnerability to sabotage and terror.At the heart of his thinking on these changes was his heightened sense of personal vulnerability. He knew he was in danger of being mown down by Martinsson. He also felt hara.s.sed by the constantly changing conditions of the workplace and the new demands being made on them all. In the future, society would need a new kind of policeman. Not that his kind of experience and knowledge were no longer valuable, but now there were whole domains of knowledge he simply didn't have. He was forced to accept that he had, quite simply, become old. An old dog who could no longer be taught new tricks.During those long nights in his flat he often thought he no longer had the energy for police work. But he also knew that he had no choice but to go on, for at least another ten years. There were really no alternatives. He was an investigative police officer, a homicide detective. Travelling around to schools and lecturing on the dangers of drugs or drunken driving was not an option for him. That would never be his world.The meeting finally ended and the dossier was handed over to the prosecutor's office. No-one could be charged since all the suspects were dead. But the prosecutor had a report on his desk that could well lead to an indictment of Carl-Einar Lundberg.It was after the meeting was over that Hoglund came to his office to tell him that Persson and her mother had recanted. Naturally Wallander was relieved, but he was not particularly surprised. Although he had his doubts about the ability of Swedish justice to prevail, he had always expected the truth in this particular case to come out in the end.They sat and talked for a while about the possibility that he c