Хеннинг Манкелль - Firewall

Wallander grabbed a notebook and pen and left. When he was halfway there, he realized that he had left his glasses. He walked back.

There’s really only one question , he thought as he returned to the conference room.

Why did they do it?

Their statement about needing money isn’t enough.

There’s another answer somewhere, a deeper answer that I have to find.

Sonja Hökberg did not look anything like Wallander had expected. Afterward he couldn’t quite recall what he had been expecting, but he knew it wasn’t the person he had met in that room. Sonja Hökberg was seated when he came in. She was small and thin, almost to the point of transparency. She had shoulder-length blond hair and blue eyes. She could have been a poster child for innocence and purity. Nothing indicated that she was a crazed hammer-wielding murderer.

Wallander had been met by her lawyer outside the room.

“She’s very much in control of herself,” he said to Wallander. “But I’m not convinced she understands the gravity of the charges she’s facing.”

“It’s not a matter of accusation; she’s guilty,” Martinsson said firmly.

“What about the hammer,” Wallander asked. “Have we found it?”

“She put it under her bed. She hadn’t even tried to wipe the blood off. The other girl got rid of her knife. We’re still searching for it.”

Martinsson left. Wallander stepped into the room with the lawyer. The girl looked at them expectantly. She didn’t seem nervous at all. Wallander nodded to her and sat down. There was a tape recorder on the table. Wallander looked at her for a long time. She looked back.

“Do you have any gum?” she asked finally.

Wallander shook his head and looked over at Lötberg, who also shook his head.

“We’ll see if we can get you some later,” Wallander said and turned on the tape recorder. “But first we’re going to have a little chat.”

“I’ve already said what happened. Why can’t I have some gum? I can pay for it,” she said and held up a black purse with an oak-leaf clasp. Wallander was surprised that it hadn’t been confiscated. “I won’t talk until I get my gum.”

Wallander reached over for the phone and called the reception desk. Ebba will take care of this , he thought. It wasn’t until an unfamiliar woman’s voice came on the line that he remembered that Ebba was retired now. Even though she had been gone for six months, Wallander had still not grown used to the new receptionist. She was a woman in her thirties named Irene. She had previously worked as an administrative assistant in a doctor’s office, and she had already become well-liked at the police station. But Wallander missed Ebba.

“I need some gum,” Wallander said. “Do you know anyone who would have any?”

“Yes,” Irene said. “Me.”

Wallander hung up and walked out to the reception desk.

“Is it for the girl?” Irene asked.

“Fast thinker,” Wallander said.

He returned to the examination room, gave Sonja Hökberg the stick of gum, and realized he had forgotten to turn off the tape recorder through all of this.

“Let’s begin,” he said. “It’s a quarter past four on October sixth, 1997. Kurt Wallander is questioning Sonja Hökberg.”

“So do I have to tell you everything all over again?” she asked.

“Yes. Try to speak clearly and direct your words at the mike.”

“What about the fact that I’ve already told you everything?”

“I may have some additional questions.”

“I don’t feel like going over it again.”

For a moment Wallander felt thrown by her total lack of anxiety.

“Unfortunately you’ll just have to cooperate,” he said. “You have been accused of a very serious crime, and what’s more, you have confessed. Right now you stand accused of assault in the third degree, but this already serious charge may be upgraded to something worse if the taxi driver’s condition deteriorates further.”

Lötberg gave Wallander a disapproving look but didn’t say anything.

Wallander started at the beginning.

“Your name is Sonja Hökberg and you were born on February second, 1978.”

“That makes me an Aquarius. What’s your sign?”

“That doesn’t concern us at present. You’re here to answer my questions and that is all. Understand?”

“Do I look stupid?”

“You live with your parents at twelve Trastvagen, here in Ystad.”

“Yes.”

“You have a younger brother, Emil, born in 1982.”

“He’s the one who should be sitting in this chair, not me.”

Wallander raised his eyebrows.

“Why do you say that?”

“He never leaves my things alone. He’s always looking through my stuff. We fight a lot.”

“I’m sure it can be trying to have a younger brother, but let’s leave it for now.”

She’s still so composed , Wallander thought. Her nonchalance was starting to irritate him.

“Can you describe the events of last Tuesday evening?”

“It’s such a drag to have to tell the same thing twice.”

“That can’t be helped. You and Eva Persson went out that evening?”

“There’s nothing to do around here. I wish I lived in Moscow.” Wallander regarded her with surprise. Even Lötberg seemed startled.

“Why Moscow?”

“I just saw somewhere that exciting things often happen there. Have you ever been to Moscow?”

“No. Just answer my questions. So, you went out that night.”

“You already know that.”

“Were you and Eva good friends?”

“Why else would we have gone out together? Do I seem like the kind of person who would go out with people she didn’t like?”

For the first time Wallander thought he could detect a note of emotion in her voice. Impatience.

“How long have you known each other?”

“Not very long.”

“How long?”

“A few years.”

“She’s five years younger than you are.”

“She looks up to me.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“She’s told me so herself. She looks up to me.”

“Why is that?”

“You’ll have to ask her yourself.”

I will , Wallander thought. I have a lot of things to ask her.

“Can you tell me what happened that night?”

“Jesus Christ!”

“You have to, whether you want to or not. We can stay here all night if we have to.”

“We had a beer.”

“Even though Eva Persson is only fourteen?”

“She looks older.”

“Then what happened?”

“We ordered another beer.”

“And after that?”

“We called a cab. But you know all this. Why do you keep asking?”

“Had you already decided to attack this taxi driver?”

“We needed the money.”

“For what?”

“Nothing in particular.”

“Let me see if I have this straight: you needed money, but not for anything in particular.”

“Right.”

No, that’s not right , Wallander thought. He had noticed a note of insecurity in her answer. He immediately grew more attentive.

“Normally, when you need money it’s for something in particular.”

“Not in our case.”

Oh, yes it was , Wallander thought. But he decided to leave the matter for now.

“How did you come up with the idea of robbing a taxi driver?”

“We talked about it.”

“At the restaurant?”

“Yes.”

“So you hadn’t talked about it earlier?”

“Why would we have done that?”

Lötberg was staring down into his hands.

“Would it be correct to say that you had no intention of assaulting the taxi driver before you went to the restaurant? Whose idea was it?”