The Man Who Smiled - Wallander 04

  "We have to do the opposite of what we seem to be doing, then," she said.

  "Exactly," Wallander said. "We have to send out signals that say: we're not remotely interested in Alfred Harderberg."

  "What happens if it's too obvious?" she said.

  "It mustn't be," Wallander said. "We have to send out another signal. We have to tell the world that yes, naturally, Dr Harderberg is involved in our routine inquiries. He even attracts our special interest in certain respects."

  "How can we be sure that he swallows our bait?"

  "We can't. But we can send a third signal. We can say that we have a lead that we believe in. That it points in a certain direction. And that it seems to be reliable. So reliable that Harderberg can be convinced that we really are following a false trail."

  "He's bound to take out a few insurance policies even so."

  "Yes. We shall have to make sure we find out what they are," he said. "And we mustn't show him that we know. We must not give the impression we are stupid, a bunch of blind and deaf police officers who are leading one another in the wrong direction. We must identify his insurance tactics, but appear to misinterpret them. We must hold up a mirror to our own strategy, and then interpret the mirror image."

  She eyed him thoughtfully. "Are we really going to be able to manage this? Will Björk go along with it? What will Mr Åkeson have to say?"

  "That will be our first big problem," Wallander said. "Convincing ourselves that we've got the right strategy. Our Chief of Police has an attribute which makes up for a lot of his weaker points: he sees through us if we don't believe in what we say or suggest as the starting point for our investigation. In such circumstances he puts his foot down, and rightly so."

  "And when we've convinced ourselves? Where do we start?"

  "We have to make sure we do not fail in too much of what we set ourselves to do. We have to lose our way so cleverly in the fog that Harderberg believes it. We have to lose our way and be following the right road at the same time."

  She went back to her office to fetch a notepad. Meanwhile, Wallander sat listening to a dog barking somewhere inside the station. When she came back, it struck him again that she was an attractive woman, despite the fact that she was very pale, and had blotchy skin and dark rings under her eyes.

  They went through Wallander's pronouncements once again. All the time Höglund kept coming up with relevant comments, finding flaws in Wallander's reasoning, homing in on contradictions. He noticed, however reluctantly, that he was inspired by her, and that she was very clear-headed. It struck him - at 2 a.m. - that he had not had a conversation like this since Rydberg died. He imagined Rydberg coming back to life and putting his vast experience at the disposal of this pale young woman.

  They left the station together. It was cold, the sky was full of stars, the ground was covered in frost.

  "We'll have a long meeting tomorrow," Wallander said. "There'll be any number of objections, but I'll talk to Björk and Åkeson ahead of time. I'll ask Per to sit in on the meeting. If we don't get them on our side, we'll lose too much time trying to dig up new facts just in order to convince them."

  She seemed surprised. "Surely they must see we're right?"

  "We can't be sure of that."

  "It sometimes seems to me that the Swedish police force is very slow to catch on to things."

  "You don't need to be a recent graduate of Police Training College to reach that conclusion," Wallander said. "Björk has calculated that given the current increase in administrators and others who don't actually do work in the field, as investigators or on traffic duties, that kind of thing, all normal police work will grind to a halt around 2010. By which time every police officer will just sit around all day passing bits of paper to other police officers."

  She laughed. "Maybe we're in the wrong job," she said.

  "Not the wrong job," Wallander said, "but maybe we're living at the wrong time."

  They said goodnight and drove home in their own cars. Wallander kept an eye on the rear-view mirror, but could not see anybody following him. He was very tired, but at the same time inspired by the fact that a door had opened up into the current investigation. The coming days were going to be very strenuous.

  On the morning of Saturday, November 6, Wallander phoned Björk at 7.00. His wife answered, and asked Wallander to try again a few minutes later as her husband was in the bath. Wallander used the time to phone Åkeson, who he knew was an early riser and generally up and about by 5.00. Åkeson picked up the phone immediately, Wallander summarised briefly what had happened, and why Harderberg had become relevant to the investigation in quite a new light. Åkeson listened without interruption. When Wallander had finished, he made just one comment.

  "Are you convinced you can make this stick?"

  Wallander replied without a moment's hesitation: "Yes," he said. "I think this can solve the problem for us"

  "In that case, of course, I've no objection to our concentrating on digging deeper. But make sure it's all discreet. Say nothing to the media without consulting me first. What we need least of all is a Palme situation here in Ystad."

  Wallander could quite see what Åkeson meant. The unsolved assassination of the Swedish prime minister, a mystery now getting on for ten years old, had not only stunned the police but had also shocked nearly everyone in Sweden. Too many people, both inside and outside the police force, were aware that in all probability the murder had not been solved because at an early stage the investigation had been dominated and mishandled in scandalous fashion by a district police chief who had put himself in charge in spite of being incompetent to run a criminal investigation. Every local force discussed over and over, sometimes angrily and sometimes contemptuously, how it had been possible for the murder, the murderer and the motive to be brushed under the carpet with such nonchalance. One of the most catastrophic errors in that disastrous investigation had been the insistence of the officers in charge on pursuing certain leads without first establishing priorities. Wallander agreed with Åkeson: an investigation had to be more or less concluded before the police had the green light to put all their eggs into one basket.

  "I'd like you to be there when we discuss the case this morning," Wallander said. "We have to be absolutely clear about what we're doing. I don't want the investigation team to be split. That would prevent us from being able to react rapidly to any new development."

  "I'll be there," Åkeson said. "I was supposed to be playing golf today. Mind you, given the weather, I'd rather not."

  "It's probably pretty hot in Uganda," Wallander said. "Or was it the Sudan?"

  "I haven't even raised the subject with my wife yet," Åkeson said in a low voice.

  After that call, Wallander drank another cup of coffee and then called Björk again. This time it was the man himself who answered. Wallander had decided not to say anything about what had happened the first time he visited Farnholm Castle. He would rather not do that on the phone, he needed to be face to face with Björk. He was brief and to the point.

  "We need to meet and discuss what's happened," Wallander said. "Something, that is, which is going to change the whole direction of the case."

  "What's happened?" Björk said.

  "I'd sooner not discuss it over the phone," Wallander said.

  "You're not suggesting our phones are being tapped, I hope?" Björk said. "We need to keep things in perspective after all."

  "It's not that," Wallander said, although it struck him that he had never considered that possibility. It was too late to do anything about it now - he had already told Åkeson how things were going to develop from now on.

  "I need to see you briefly before the investigation meeting starts," he said.

  "OK, half an hour from now," Björk said. "But I don't understand why you're being so secretive."

  "I'm not being secretive," Wallander said. "But it's sometimes better to discuss crucial things face to face."

  "That sounds pretty dramatic to me," Bjö
rk said. "I wonder if we shouldn't contact Per."

  "I've done that already," Wallander said. "I'll be in your office in half an hour."

  Before meeting Björk, Wallander sat in his car outside the police station for a few minutes, gathering his thoughts. He considered cancelling the whole thing, perhaps there were more important things to do; but then he acknowledged that he had to make it clear to Björk that Harderberg must be treated like any other Swedish citizen. Failure to reach that understanding would lead inevitably to a crisis of confidence that would end up with Wallander's resignation. He thought how quickly things had moved. It was only just over a week since he had been pacing up and down the beach at Skagen, preparing to say goodbye for ever to his life as a police officer. Now he was feeling that he had to defend his position and his integrity as a police officer. He must write about all this to Baiba as soon as he could.

  Would she be able to understand why everything had changed? Did he really understand it himself?

  He went to Bjdrk's office and sat on his visitors' sofa.

  "What on earth's happened?" Björk said.

  "There's something I must say before we go into the meeting," Wallander said, and realised his voice sounded hesitant.

  "Don't tell me you've decided to resign again," Björk said, looking worried.

  "No," Wallander said. "I have to know why you phoned Farnholm Castle and warned them that the Ystad police were going to contact them in connection with the murder investigation. I have to know why you didn't tell me or the others that you had phoned."

  Wallander could see Björk was put out and annoyed.

  "Alfred Harderberg is an important man in our society," Björk said. "He's not suspected of any criminal activity. It was purely politeness on my part. Might I ask how you know about the phone call?"

  "They were too well prepared when I got there."

  "I don't see that as being negative," Björk said. "Given the circumstances."

  "But it was inappropriate even so," Wallander said. "Inappropriate in more ways than one. And besides, such goings-on can create unrest in the investigation team. We have to be absolutely frank with one another."

  "I have to say that I find it difficult being lectured by you - of all people - on frankness," Björk said, no longer hiding the fact that he was furious.

  "My shortcomings are no excuse for others acting in that way," Wallander said. "Not my superior in any case."

  Björk rose to his feet. "I will not allow myself to be addressed in that manner," he said, going red in the face. "It was pure politeness, nothing more. In the circumstances, a routine conversation. It couldn't have had any adverse effect."

  "Those circumstances no longer apply," Wallander said, realising he was not going to get any further. The important thing now was to apprise Björk as quickly as possible as to how the whole situation had changed.

  Björk was staring at him, still on his feet. "Express yourself more clearly," he said. "I don't understand what you mean."

  "Information has come to light which suggests that Alfred Harderberg could be behind everything that's happened," Wallander said. "That would surely imply that the circumstances have changed quite dramatically."

  Björk sat down again, incredulous. "What do you mean?"

  "I mean that we have reason to believe that Harderberg is directly or indirectly mixed up in the murder of the two solicitors. And the attempted murder of Mrs Dunér. And the blowing up of my car."

  Björk stared at him in disbelief. "Am I really expected to take that seriously?"

  "Yes, you are," Wallander said. "Åkeson does."

  Wallander gave Björk a brisk summary of what had happened. When he had finished, Björk sat looking at his hands before responding.

  "It would be very unpleasant, of course, if this were to turn out to be true," he said in the end.

  "Murder and explosions are certainly unpleasant things," Wallander said.

  "We must be very, very careful," Björk said, apparently ignoring Wallander's comment. "We can't accept anything short of conclusive proof before we consider making a move."

  "We don't normally do that," Wallander said. "Why should this case be any different?"

  "I have no doubt at all that this will turn out to be a dead end," Björk said, getting to his feet to indicate that the conversation was over.

  "That is a possibility," Wallander said. "So is the opposite."

  It was 8.10 when he left Björk's office. He fetched a cup of coffee and called in at Höglund's office, but she had not yet arrived. He went to his office to telephone Waldemar Kåge, the taxi driver in Simrishamn. He got through to him on his mobile and explained what it was about.

  He made a note that he should send Kåge a cheque for 230 kronor. He wondered if he should phone the haulage contractor his father had punched and try to persuade him not to take the case to court, but decided against it. The meeting was due to start at 8.30. He needed to concentrate until then.

  He stood at the window. It was a grey day, very cold and damp. Late autumn already, winter just round the corner. I'm here, he thought: I wonder where Harderberg is right now. At Farnholm Castle? Or 30,000 feet up, in his Gulfstream, on the way to and from some intricate negotiation? What had Gustaf Torstensson and Borman discovered? What had really happened? What if Höglund and I are right, if two police officers of different generations, each with their own view of what the world is like, have come to the same conclusion? A conclusion that might even lead us to the truth?

  Wallander came into the conference room at 8.30. Björk was already at the short end of the table, Åkeson was standing by the window, looking out, and Martinsson and Svedberg were deep in conversation about what sounded to Wallander like salaries. Höglund was in her usual place opposite Björk at the other short end of the table. Neither Martinsson nor Svedberg seemed to be worried by Åkeson being there.

  Wallander said good morning to Höglund. "How do you think this is going to go?" he asked softly.

  "When I woke up I thought I must have dreamed it all," she said. "Have you spoken yet to Björk and Åkeson?"

  "Åkeson knows most of what happened," he said. "I only had time to give Björk the short version."

  "What did Åkeson say?"

  "He'll go along with us."

  Björk tapped on the table with a pencil and those who were still standing sat down.

  "All I have to say is that Kurt is going to do the talking," Björk said. "Unless I am much mistaken, it looks as though there might have been a dramatic development."

  Wallander wondered what to say, his mind a sudden blank. Then he found the thread and began. He went through in detail what Höglund's colleague in Eskilstuna had been able to enlighten them about, and he set out the ideas that had developed in the early hours of the morning, about how they should proceed without waking the sleeping bear. When he had finished - and his account lasted 25 minutes - he asked Höglund if she had anything to add, but she shook her head: Wallander had said all there was to say.

  "So, that's where we've got to," Wallander said. "Because this means that we have no choice but to reassess our priorities for the investigation, we have got Per with us. Another consideration is whether we need to call in outside help at this stage. It's going to be a very tricky and in many ways a laborious process, penetrating Harderberg's world, especially since we can't afford to let him notice how interested in him we are."

  Wallander was not sure whether he had succeeded in putting across all the things he had wanted to. Höglund smiled and nodded at him, but when he studied the other faces around the table he still could not tell.

  "This really is something for us to get our teeth into," Åkeson said when the silence had lasted long enough. "We must be clear about the fact that Alfred Harderberg has an impeccable reputation in the Swedish business community. We can expect nothing but hostility if we start questioning that reputation. On the other hand, I have to say there are sufficient grounds for us to start taking a special in
terest in him. Naturally, I find it difficult to believe that Harderberg was personally involved in the murders or the other events, and of course it might be that things happen in his set-up over which he has no control."

  "I've always dreamed of putting one of those gentlemen away," Svedberg suddenly said.

  "A most regrettable attitude in a police officer," Björk said, unable to control his displeasure. "It shouldn't be necessary for me to remind you all of our status as neutral civil servants - "

  "Let's stick to the point," Åkeson interrupted. "And perhaps we should also remind ourselves that in our role as servants of the law we are paid to be suspicious in circumstances in which normally we would not need to be."

  "So we have the go-ahead to concentrate on Harderberg, is that right?" Wallander asked.

  "On certain conditions," Björk said. "I agree with Per that we have to be very careful and prudent, but I also want to stress that I shall regard it as dereliction of duty if anything we do is leaked outside these four walls. No statements are to be made to the press without their first having been authorised by me."

  "We gathered that," said Martinsson, speaking for the first time. "I'm more concerned to find out how we're going to manage to run a vacuum cleaner over the whole of Harderberg's empire when there are so few of us. How are we going to coordinate our investigation with the fraud squads in Stockholm and Malmö? How are we going to cooperate with the tax authorities? I wonder if we shouldn't approach it quite differently."

  "How would we do that?" Wallander said.

  "Hand the whole thing over to the national CID," Martinsson said. "Then they can arrange cooperation with whichever squads and authorities they like. I think we have to concede that we're too small to handle this."