Henning Mankell - The Pyramid

Before he went to bed he called Linda. This time it was Mona who answered. He could immediately tell from her voice that he had called at the wrong time. Linda was out. Wallander simply asked Mona to give Linda his greetings. The conversation was over before it had even begun.

He had just crawled into bed when Emma Lundin called. Wallander pretended to have been woken up. She apologised for disturbing him. Then she asked him about New Year's Eve. Wallander told her he was planning to spend it with his father. They arranged to get together on New Year's Day. Wallander regretted this even before he replaced the receiver.

The following day, the twenty-ninth of December, nothing happened other than that Björk was in a minor traffic accident. It was a smirking Martinsson who delivered the news. Björk had seen a car too late as he was making a left turn. It had been slick and the cars had skidded into each other and received some superficial damage.

Nyberg was still waiting for the forensic ballistics report. Wallander spent the day trying to work through his piles of paper. In the afternoon Per Åkeson came into his office and asked for an update on the latest developments. Wallander told him the truth, that they were just hoping they were on the right track. But there was still a great deal of groundwork to be done.

It was Åkeson's last day of work before his leave of absence.

'My replacement is a woman,' he said. 'But I've already told you that, haven't I? Her name is Anette Brolin and she's coming down from Stockholm. You should be happy. She's much more attractive than I am.'

'We'll see,' Wallander said. 'But I expect we'll miss you.'

'Not Hansson,' Per Åkeson said. 'He's never liked me. Why, I don't know. The same goes for Svedberg.'

'I'll try to find out why that is while you're gone.'

They wished each other a happy new year and promised to stay in touch.

That evening Wallander talked to Linda for a long time on the phone. She was planning to celebrate New Year's Eve with friends in Lund. Wallander was disappointed. He had thought, or at least hoped, that she would join them in Löderup.

'Two old men,' she said kindly. 'I can think of a more exciting way to spend the evening.'

After the call, Wallander realised that he had forgotten to buy the bottle of cognac his father had asked for. He should also buy a bottle of champagne. He wrote two notes. He put one on the kitchen table and one in his shoe. That night he sat up for a long time listening to an old recording of Turandot with Maria Callas. For some strange reason his thoughts wandered to the horses in Sten Widén's stables. Only when the time was close to three did he fall asleep.

On the morning of the thirtieth there was a heavy snowfall over Ystad. It could be a chaotic New Year's Eve if the weather did not improve. But already at ten o'clock the skies cleared and the snow started to melt away. Wallander wondered why the ballistics team was taking such an inordinate amount of time to decide whether it was the same weapon. Nyberg grew angry and said that forensic technicians did not earn their measly wages by performing substandard work. Wallander immediately crawled on his knees. They made up and then spent some time talking about the low wages of the police. Not even Björk had a particularly good salary.

In the afternoon, the investigative squad assembled for what turned out to be a slow-moving meeting since there were so few new items. The police in Marbella had sent an impressively detailed report of their search of the Eberhardsson sisters' villa. They had even included a photograph. The picture was now passed around the table. The house really was palatial. But nonetheless the report did not yield anything new to the investigation. There was no breakthrough, only this waiting.

Their hopes were dashed on the morning of the thirty-first. The forensic ballistic specialists were able to determine that the weapon that had been found in Nilsmark's home had not been the one used to kill either the Eberhardsson sisters or Holm. For a moment, the investigative squad was deflated. Only Rydberg and Wallander had suspected that the message would most likely be in the negative. The Malmö police had also been able to confirm Nilsmark's trip to Copenhagen. He could not have been in Ystad when the sisters were slain. Hyttner also believed that Nilsmark would be able to produce an alibi for the time period of Holm's death.

'That puts us back at square one,' Wallander said. 'In the new year we are going to have to start again at full speed. Review the material again and work deeper.'

No one made any more comments. During the new year's holiday, the investigation would be put on hold. Since they had no immediate leads Wallander felt that what they needed most was to rest. Then they wished one another a happy new year. Finally, only Rydberg and Wallander were left.

'We knew this,' Rydberg said. 'Both you and I. That it would have been too easy with that Nilsmark. Why the hell would he have kept the weapon? It was wrong from the start.'

'But we still had to look into it.'

'Police work often consists of doing what one knows from the start to be meaningless,' Rydberg said. 'But it is as you say. No stone can be left unturned.'

Then they talked about New Year's Eve.

'I don't envy my colleagues in the big cities,' Rydberg said.

'It can get messy here too.'

Rydberg asked Wallander what he was going to do.

'I'll be out with the old man in Löderup. He wants cognac, we'll have a bite to eat, play cards, yawn and then drink a toast at midnight. Then I'll go home.'

'I try to avoid staying up,' Rydberg said. 'New Year's Eve is a ghost. It's one of the few times during the year that I take a sleeping pill.'

Wallander wanted to ask how Rydberg was feeling, but he decided to let it be.

They shook hands, as if to mark the day as special.

Then Wallander went to his office, put out an almanac for 1990 and cleaned out his drawers. It was a habit he had acquired over the past few years. New Year's Eve was for cleaning out drawers, to rid himself of old paper.

Wallander was amazed at all the old junk he found. A bottle of glue had leaked in one of the drawers. He fetched a knife from the break room and started to scrape it away. From the corridor he could hear an outraged drunk let it be known that he did not have time to waste at the station because he was on his way to a party. It's already started, Wallander thought, and he took the knife back to the break room. He threw the bottle of glue into the bin.

At seven o'clock he went home, had a shower and changed his clothes. Shortly after eight he was out in Löderup. On the road he had continued to grope around for the thought that bothered him, without success. His father had made a fish gratin that was surprisingly tasty. Wallander had managed to buy cognac and his father nodded approvingly when he saw that it was Hennessy. The bottle of champagne was put in the fridge. They drank beer with their dinner. His father had put on his old suit for the occasion and also a tie that he had tied in a way Wallander had never seen before.

A little after nine they sat down and played poker. Wallander got three of a kind two times but threw one of his cards away each time so that his father could win. At around eleven, Wallander walked outside to relieve himself. It was clear and had grown colder. The stars were sparkling.

Wallander thought of the pyramids. The fact that they were lit by strong spotlights meant the Egyptian night sky had been all but invisible. He went back inside. His father had downed several glasses of cognac and was starting to get drunk. Wallander only had small sips since he was planning to drive back. Even though he knew where the traffic controls were going to be, it was unacceptable for him to drive while over the legal limit. Not on New Year's Eve. Sometimes it ended up happening, and each time Wallander told himself he would never let it happen again.