Хеннинг Манкелль - Firewall

She answered immediately. He didn’t like talking on the phone, so he only asked short questions and received equally brief and concise answers.

She was not able to tell him anything about Cheng’s whereabouts. He was supposed to have contacted her in the early evening, but he had never called.

Carter listened to her big news with some skepticism. He could not fully believe that it was true. He was not used to being lucky.

But he was finally convinced. Robert Modin had indeed been brought straight into their trap.

After the conversation was over, Carter thought about Cheng. Something must have happened to him. But on the other hand, they now had access to Modin, and he was their biggest threat.

Carter put away his phone and went to the executive lounge, where he had an apple and a cup of tea.

The plane to Copenhagen took off five minutes later than scheduled.

Carter sat in seat 3D, on the aisle. The window seat made him feel too trapped.

He told the flight attendant that he would not be requiring breakfast.

Then he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Wallander and Martinsson met in the corridor outside the lunchroom at the police station at exactly eight o’clock on

Sunday morning. It was as if they had decided on the time and place in advance. Since they approached the lunchroom from opposite ends of the corridor, Wallander felt as if they were participating 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 the only thing I’ll take back.”

They said nothing more about what had happened. Hansson came in and stared nervously at them.

Wallander suggested that they may as well have their meeting in the lunchroom 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, Höglund arrived. Wallander assumed it must be Hansson who had notified her of the latest events, but it turned out to be Martinsson. Wallander gathered that he had said nothing about the fight, but he noticed that Martinsson looked at her with a new coldness. He must have spent the brief night figuring out just who could have snitched on him to Wallander.

Once Alfredsson had joined them, they were ready to begin the meeting. Wallander asked Hansson to inform Viktorsson of the night’s events. In the present situation it was even more important that the district attorney’s office was kept up to date. There would probably be a press conference later in the day, but Chief Holgersson would have to take care of it. Wallander asked Höglund to assist 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. Especially if she happens to say something stupid.”

There was a stunned silence in the room after his last comment. No one had heard him openly criticize Holgersson before. It was not premeditated on his part; it had just slipped out. He felt another wave of exhaustion, of being burned out, maybe even old. Of course, his age gave him an excuse for 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 the twentieth of October. We therefore have less than sixteen hours to figure out what that is.”

“Where is Modin?” Hansson asked.

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 lunchroom Höglund grabbed his arm, but he tried to shake her off.

“Not now. I have to get Modin.”

“Where is he?”

“With a friend of mine.”

“Can nobody else get him?”

“Sure they could. But I need the time to collect my thoughts. We need to figure out how to use the short amount of time we have most effectively. What does it mean that Cheng is dead?”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Wallander stopped.

“All right,” he said. “You have exactly 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?”

“I wasn’t there. I don’t know how things looked out there or exactly what happened. But I know that it takes a lot, even for a person like that, to actually 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. 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 wouldn’t have hesitated one moment to kill me. We don’t know what was driving him, but he must have been a completely ruthless person. What happened was that he heard the helicopter approaching and he knew he wasn’t going to get away in time. We know the people involved in this case are fanatical in some way. In this instance that fanaticism was turned on himself.”

Höglund wanted to say something, but Wallander was already on his way out the front doors.

“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 a quarter to nine and he was in a hurry. He drove at a very high speed and inadvertently ran over a hare. He tried to swerve but one of his back wheels hit the animal. He could see its legs jerking when he looked back in the rearview mirror. But he didn’t stop.

He reached the house in Jagersro at twenty minutes to ten. Elvira opened the door very quickly after he rang the bell. She was already fully dressed, but Wallander sensed that she was very tired. In some way she seemed different than 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 declined her offer. They had so little time. She insisted, took his arm, and almost pushed him into the kitchen. Wallander also 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 later. He declined the coffee 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 got time to explain,” Wallander said. “Let me just say that we’re a bit worried about the twentieth of October. And that’s tomorrow.”

Even though Wallander was tired, he noticed the slight cloud of worry that appeared in her face. Then she smiled again. Wallander wondered if she was afraid, but then he dismissed the whole thing as imagination.

Modin came down the stairs. He carried a small computer under each arm.