Хеннинг Манкелль - Firewall

Did he miss her? He didn’t know. It was as if firewalls were not a phenomenon relegated to the world of computers. He had a firewall inside himself, and he didn’t always know how to get past it.

The next day, Wednesday, the twelfth of November, the gusty winds had died down. Wallander woke up early even though he had the day off. He couldn’t remember the last time he had had a day off in the middle of the week. He had decided to use some of his comp time, since Linda was coming to visit. He was going to meet her plane at one o’clock at Sturup Airport. He would use the morning to trade in his car and visit Gertrud.

At eight o’clock he got out of bed. He drank his coffee and read the paper. He cleaned the apartment, changed the sheets in Linda’s old room, and put the vacuum cleaner away. The sun was shining, and that cheered him up. He drove out to the car dealership, which was located on Industrigatan. He chose another Peugeot, this time a 306 from 1996. It had few miles on it, and the car dealer, Tyrén, gave him a good price on his old car. Wallander was done at ten-thirty. It always gave him a good feeling to get a new car, as if he had scrubbed himself clean.

He continued on to the house in Svarte where Gertrud lived with her sister. He had a cup of coffee and listened somewhat absentmindedly to their chatter.

He left their house at a quarter to twelve. When he got to Sturup there was still a half-hour left.

As usual he felt nervous about seeing Linda again. He wondered if it was always the case that parents eventually became afraid of their own children. He sat down in the airport café and had another cup of coffee. Suddenly he noticed Höglund’s ex-husband sitting a few tables away. Wallander assumed he was leaving on another business trip. A woman that Wallander didn’t recognize was with him. Wallander felt hurt on Höglund’s behalf. He moved to another table and sat with his back to the man so he wouldn’t be recognized. He wondered why he was reacting so strongly but found no answer.

The plane landed on time. Linda was one of the last people to get off the plane. When they saw each other, Wallander’s nervousness disappeared. She was just as open and cheerful as before. Her easygoing nature was the direct opposite of his own. She was also not as outrageously dressed as she had been on some previous occasions. They picked up her suitcase at the baggage claim, and then Wallander showed her to the new car. He wasn’t sure that she would have noticed the difference if he hadn’t said anything.

They drove toward Ystad.

“How are things?” he asked. “What are you doing these days? You’ve been a bit secretive this past while.”

“It’s such a nice day,” she said. “Can’t we drive down to the beach?”

“I asked you a question.”

“You’ll get an answer.”

“When?”

“Not just yet.”

Wallander took the next exit and drove down to Mossby Beach. The parking lot was deserted, the fast-food kiosk closed for the year. She opened her suitcase and took out a thick sweater, and they walked down toward the water.

“I remember coming here when I was little,” she said. “It’s one of my earliest memories.”

“Often it was just you and me. When Mona needed time to herself.”

There was a ship far out at sea on the horizon. The sea was very calm.

“What about that picture in the paper?” she asked suddenly.

Wallander felt his stomach tighten up.

“It’s over now,” he said. “The girl and her mother recanted. It’s over.

“I saw another picture,” she said. “In a magazine. Something happened outside a church in Malmö. I think it said you threatened a photographer.”

Wallander thought back to Stefan Fredman’s funeral and the film he had pulled out of the camera. The photographer must have had an extra roll. He told her about the incident.

“You did the right thing,” she said. “I hope I would have done the same thing.”

“Luckily you’re not going to find yourself in these situations,” Wallander said. “You’re not a police officer.”

“Not yet.”

Wallander stopped short and looked at her.

“What did you say?”

She kept walking and didn’t answer immediately. Some seagulls flew over their heads, screeching.

“You think I’ve been secretive,” she said. “And you want to know what I’ve been up to. I didn’t want to tell you about it until I had made up my mind.”

“Do you mean what you just said?”

“I want to be a police officer. I’ve already applied to the police academy, and I think I’m going to get in.”

Wallander still couldn’t believe it.

“Is this true?”

“Yes.”

“But you’ve never talked about it before.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to.”

“But I thought you were going to go into the antique business and refinish old furniture.”

“I thought so, too — for a while. But now I know what I really want to do. And that’s why I came down here — to tell you. Ask you what you think. Get your blessing.”

They started walking again.

“This comes right out of the blue,” Wallander said.

“You’ve talked about what it was like when you told Grandfather that you were going to be a policeman. If I remember correctly, his answer came pretty quickly.”

“He said no before I had finished talking.”

“And what do you say?”

“Give me a minute and I’ll let you know.”

She went and sat down on an old tree trunk that was half-buried in the sand. Wallander walked down to the water. He had never imagined that Linda would want to follow in his footsteps. It was still hard for him to sort out what he had heard.

He looked out over the ocean. The sunlight reflected on the water.

Linda shouted out to him that his minute was up. He walked back.

“I think it’s a good thing,” he said. “I think you’ll be the kind of police officer we’re going to need in the future.”

“Do you mean it?”

“Every word.”

“I was nervous about telling you. I was worried about how you’d react.”

“You didn’t have to worry.”

She got up from the log.

“We have a lot to talk about,” she said. “And I’m also hungry.”

They returned to the car and continued to Ystad. Wallander tried to digest the news as he drove. He didn’t doubt that Linda would make a good policewoman. But did she realize what was in store for her? The fatigue, and the burnout?

But he also felt something else. Her decision somehow justified the one he had made so long ago in life.

This feeling was buried underneath the others. But it was there, and it was strong.

They sat up talking for a long time that evening. Wallander told her about the extremely challenging case that had started and ended by the same nondescript cash machine.

“Everyone talks about power,” she said when Wallander had finished. “But no one really questions institutions like the World Bank, or the enormous power they wield. How much human suffering have they caused?”

“You mean to say you’re sympathetic to Carter and Falk and their cause?”

“No,” she said. “At least not to the way they chose to fight back.”

Wallander became more and more convinced that her decision was the result of a long process. This was not an impulse decision that she would come to regret.

“I’m sure I’m going to need to ask you for advice,” she said just before going to bed.

“Don’t be so sure I have any good advice to give.”

Wallander stayed up for a while after she had gone to bed. It was half past two in the morning. He had a glass of wine in his hand and had put on one of Puccini’s operas. The volume was low.