Хеннинг Манкелль - Before the Frost

The minutes passed extremely slowly. Finally she heard the faint sound of an approaching plane.

“I can hear it.”

“Are you facing east?”

“Yes. The plane is approaching on my right.”

“Good. Now tell me when the plane is just above you or in front of you.”

There was a noise at the door. Linda turned off the cell phone and shoved it in her pocket. Langaas came in. He stopped, looked at both of them, and then left without saying a word. Zeba sat curled up in her corner. Only when Langaas had left and slammed the door behind him did Linda realize the plane had come and gone.

She dialed the number to her father again. He was clearly upset. He’s just as scared as I am, Linda thought. Just as scared and he has as little idea of where I am as I do. We can talk to each other but we can’t find each other.

“What happened?”

“Someone came in. The one called Torgeir Langaas. I had to hang up.”

“Good God. Here’s Lundwall again.”

The next plane was due in four minutes. Lundwall told her it was a charter flight from Las Palmas that was fourteen hours delayed.

“A whole lot of grumpy, pissed-off passengers on their way in for landing,” he said smugly. “Sometimes I’m grateful I’m tucked up here in my tower. Can you hear anything?”

Linda told him when she heard the plane.

“Same as before. Tell me when it’s above you or right in front.”

The plane grew nearer. At the same time the cell phone started to beep. Linda looked at the display. The battery was almost out of power.

“The phone is dying,” she said.

“We have to know where you are,” her dad shouted.

It’s too late, Linda thought. She damned and cursed the phone and pleaded with it not to die on her just yet. The plane came closer and closer, the phone still beeped. Linda called out when the whine of the engines were right between her ears.

“Then we have a pretty good idea where you are,” Lundwall said. “Just one more question—”

What he wanted to know, Linda never found out. The phone died. Linda put it in a cupboard with robes and mantles. Did they have enough information to identify the church? She could only hope so. Zeba looked at her.

“It’s going to be all right,” Linda said. “They know where we are.”

Zeba didn’t answer. She was glassy-eyed and took hold of Linda’s wrist so hard that her nails dug into the skin and drew blood. We’re equally frightened, Linda thought. But I’m pretending not to be. I have to keep Zeba calm. If she goes into a panic our waiting period may be cut short. What were they waiting for? She didn’t know, but if the truth was that Anna had told her father about Zeba’s abortion, and if an abortion was the grounds for Harriet Bolson’s execution in Frennestad Church, then there was no doubt about what was going to happen.

“It’s going to be all right,” Linda whispered. “They’re on their way.”

They waited. It could have been half an hour or more. Then it was as if lightning struck out of nowhere. The door flew open and three men came in and grabbed Zeba. Two more followed and grabbed Linda. They were pulled out of the room. Everything went so fast that it never even occurred to Linda to resist. The arms that held her were too strong. Zeba screamed. It sounded like the howl of an animal. Westin and Langaas were waiting in the church. There were two women and a man in the front pew. Anna was also there, but she sat a little farther back. Linda tried to meet her gaze but Anna’s face was like a stiff mask. Or was she wearing a real mask? Linda couldn’t tell. The people sitting in the front had something that looked like white masks in their hands.

Linda was filled with a paralyzing fear when she saw the hawser in Westin’s hands. He’s going to kill Zeba, she thought desperately. He’s going to kill her and then he’s going to kill me because I’ve seen too much. Zeba struggled to free herself.

Then it was as if the walls collapsed. The church doors burst open, while four of the stained glass windows, two on either side of the church, were shattered. Linda heard a voice shouting in a megaphone, and it was her father. He shouted as if he didn’t trust the megaphone’s amplifying capacity. Everyone inside the church froze.

Westin gave a start, grabbing Anna and using her as a shield. She tried to pull away. He shouted at her to calm down, but she kept writhing. He dragged her with him toward the front doors of the church. Again she tried to get out of his grasp. A shot rang out. Anna jerked and collapsed. Westin had a gun in his hand. He stared in disbelief at his daughter, then ran out of the church. No one dared to stop him.

Wallander and a large number of armed officers — Linda didn’t recognize most of them — stormed into the church through the side doors. Langaas started to shoot. Linda pulled Zeba along with her into a pew where they lay down on the floor. The officers were firing back. Linda couldn’t see what was happening. Suddenly it grew quiet. She heard Martinsson’s voice. He shouted that a man had gone out the front door. That must be Torgeir Langaas, she thought.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and flinched. Perhaps she even screamed without realizing. It was her dad.

“You have to get out,” he said.

“How is Anna?”

He didn’t answer, and Linda knew she was dead. She and Zeba scurried out a door. In the distance she saw the dark blue car disappear down the road, followed by two police cars. Linda and Zeba sat down on the ground on the other side of the cemetery wall.

“It’s over,” Linda said.

“Nothing is over,” Zeba whispered. “I’m going to live with this for the rest of my life. I’m always going to feel something pressing around my throat.”

Suddenly there was one more shot, then two more. Linda and Zeba crouched down by the low wall. There were voices, orders, cars that took off at high speed with their sirens going. Then silence.

Linda told Zeba to stay there. She carefully got to her feet and peeked out over the wall. There were a lot of officers surrounding the church, but everyone was still. It was like looking at a painting. She saw her dad and walked over to him. He was pale and grabbed her arm hard.

“Both of them got away,” he said. “Westin and Langaas.”

He was interrupted by someone who handed him a cell phone. He listened, then handed it back without a word.

“A car loaded with dynamite has just driven right into Lund Cathedral. It drove right through the poles with iron chains and then crashed into the left tower. There’s chaos on the scene. No one knows how many are dead. But we seem to have averted attacks against the other cathedrals. Twenty people have been arrested so far.”

“Why did they do it?” Linda asked.

Wallander thought for a long time before answering.

“Because they believe in God and love him,” he said. “But I don’t think their love is reciprocated.”

They were silent.

“Was it hard to find us?” Linda asked. “There are a lot of churches in Skåne.”

“Not really,” he said. “Lundwall was able to locate you almost exactly. We had two churches to choose from.”

Silence again. Linda knew they were thinking the same thing. What would have happened if she hadn’t been able to help them figure it out?

“Whose cell phone?” he asked.

“Anna’s. She felt terrible about what she had done.”

They walked over to Zeba. A black car had arrived, and Anna’s body was carried out.

“I don’t think he meant to shoot her,” Linda said. “I think the gun went off in his hand.”

“We’ll catch him,” Wallander said. “Then we’ll find out.”