The Return of the Dancing Master(138)

“Is that really true?”

“I’m afraid so. Maybe if we’re a little patient we’ll get something more sensible from them. You never know.”

“The red Ford?”

“Disappeared into thin air. Like the driver. We still haven’t tracked down the owner, Harner. He seems to have emigrated to Portugal. Some might take that news with a pinch of salt considering he still has a car in Sweden. The national crime squad are looking into it. There’s a nationwide alert for the car. Something will happen, given time. Rundström’s a persistent bastard.”

Lindman tried to make a summary in his head. His role in this investigation, insofar as he had one at all, had been to ask questions that could be of use to Larsson.

“I take it that you’ll be telling the mass media as soon as possible that you have the person responsible for the murder of Abraham Andersson?”

Larsson looked up in surprise. “Why on earth should I do that? If what we think is right, it could mean that Hereira will leave the country. If it’s true that he came back up to the northern forests to find out about the murder of Andersson, that is. Don’t forget that he put Berggren under pressure about that. I think she was telling the truth about that, at least. Obviously, we’ll have to dig into all this. Our first task tomorrow morning will be to look for the shotgun in the river.”

“Somebody else could have killed Andersson, using a gun that either the murderer or Berggren threw into the river. Or dropped, as she said.”

“Are you suggesting that she confessed to get our protection?”

“I’m just asking questions.”

Then he thought of something else that had been troubling him on and off.

“Why isn’t there a prosecutor?” he said. “I haven’t heard a name, at any rate.”

“Lövander,” Larsson said. “Albert Lövander. They say that in his younger days he was a pretty good highjumper, only just below the elite standard. Now he devotes most of his time to his grandchildren. Of course there’s a prosecutor involved. We don’t work outside the legal system. Besides, Lövander and Rundström are old friends. They talk to each other every morning and every evening. And Lövander never interferes in what we’re doing.”

“But surely he must have given some general instructions?”

“Only to keep on with what we’re doing.”

It was now 9:15. Larsson called home. Lindman went out and stood next to the stuffed bear. Then he called Elena.

“Where are you?”

“Next to the bear.”

“I consulted a map of Sweden today, large-scale. I’m trying to find out where you are exactly.”

“We got a confession. One of the murders might have been solved. It was a woman.”

“Who’d done what?”

“Killed a man who’d been blackmailing her. She shot him.”

“Was that the man who was tied to a tree?”

“Yes.”

“No woman would ever do that.”

“Why not?”

“Women defend themselves. They never attack.”

“I don’t think it’s quite as straightforward as that.”

“How straightforward is it, then?”

He hadn’t the energy to try to explain.

“When are you coming home?”

“I’ve already said.”

“Have you thought any more about our trip to London?”

Lindman had forgotten all about it.

“No,” he said. “But I will. I think it sounds like an excellent idea.”

“What are you doing just now?”

“Talking to Giuseppe.”

“Doesn’t he have a family to go home to?”

“What makes you ask that? Right now he’s talking to his wife on the phone.”

“Can you give me an honest answer to a question?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Does he know that I exist?”

“I think so.”

“Think?”

“I’ve probably mentioned your name. Or he’s heard me talking to you on the phone.”

“Anyway, I’m glad you called. But don’t call again until tomorrow. I’m going to bed early tonight.”

Lindman went back to the office. Larsson had finished his call. He was picking at his fingernails with a straightened paper clip.

“That window cracked open,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. It seems plausible that there was somebody there, listening to what we said. I’ve been trying to remember when it was open, and when it was closed. Impossible, of course.”

“Maybe you should be thinking about what information came from this room and nowhere else.”