The White Lioness (4 page)

"I believe that to be out of the question. I'd have known about it."

"Was there any reason why she might have committed suicide?"

"No."

"Could she have gone out of her mind?"

"Whyever should she? She's a perfectly stable character."

"Most people have their secrets," Wallander said after a moment's silence. "Can you imagine that Mrs Akerblom might have had some secret she couldn't share with anybody, not even her husband?"

Pastor Tureson shook his head. "Of course everybody has secrets," he said. "Often very murky secrets. All the same, I'm convinced Louise didn't have any that could lead her to abandon her family and cause all this worry."

It doesn't add up, Wallander thought again. There's something in this picture of perfection that simply doesn't add up.

He got to his feet and thanked Pastor Tureson. "I'll be talking with other members of your congregation," he said. "If she doesn't turn up, that is."

"She'll have to turn up," Pastor Tureson said. "There's no other possibility."

It was 4.05 p.m. as when Wallander left the Methodist chapel. It had started raining, and he shivered in the wind. He sat in the car for a while, feeling how tired he was. It was as if he couldn't cope with the thought that two little girls had lost their mother.

At 4.30 they were all gathered in Bjork's office at the station. Martinsson was slumped back on the sofa; Svedberg leaned against a wall. He was scratching his bald head as usual, as if searching absentmindedly for the hair he had lost. Wallander sat on a wooden chair. Bjork was leaning over his desk, engrossed in a telephone conversation. At last he put down the receiver and told Ebba they were not to be disturbed for the next half-hour. Unless it was Robert Akerblom.

"Where are we?" Bjork said. "Where shall we start?"

"We are nowhere," Wallander said.

"I've filled in Svedberg and Martinsson," Bjork said. "We've put out a search for Mrs Akerblom's car. All the usual routines for missing person cases we consider to be serious."

"Not
consider
to be serious," Wallander said. "
Are
serious. If there had been an accident, we'd have heard about it by now. But we haven't. That means we're dealing with a crime. I'm sure she's dead."

Martinsson began to ask a question, but Wallander interrupted him and summarised what he'd been doing that afternoon. He had to get his colleagues to see what he had realised. A person like Louise Akerblom would not of her own free will abandon her family. Somebody or something must have forced her to fail to arrive home at 5 p.m., as she had promised on the telephone.

"It sounds nasty, no doubt about that," Bjork said, when Wallander had finished.

"Estate agent, free church member, family," said Martinsson. "Maybe it all got too much for her? She buys the pastries, drives off home. Then all of a sudden she turns around and heads for Copenhagen instead."

"We have to find the car," Svedberg said. "Without it, we won't get anywhere."

"First of all we have to find the house she was going to see," Wallander said. "Hasn't Robert Akerblom called yet?"

No-one had heard from him.

"If she really did go to see that house somewhere near Krageholm, we ought to be able to follow her tracks until we find her, or until the tracks come to an end."

"Peters and Noren have been combing the side roads around Krageholm," Bjork said. "No Toyota Corolla. They did find a stolen truck, though."

Wallander took the cassette from the answering machine out of his pocket. With some considerable difficulty they eventually managed to find a machine to play it. They all stood around the desk, listening to Louise Akerblom's voice.

"We have to analyse the tape," Wallander said. "I can't imagine what the technical guys could possibly find. But still."

"One thing is clear," Martinsson said. "When she left her message she wasn't threatened or pressured, scared or worried, desperate or unhappy."

"Which means something must have happened," Wallander said. "Between 3 p.m. and 5 p.m. Somewhere in the area of Skurup, Krageholm, Ystad. A little over three days ago."

"How was she dressed?" Bjork said.

Wallander realised he'd forgotten to ask her husband this most basic question. He admitted as much.

"I still think there could be a natural explanation," Martinsson said, thoughtfully. "It's as you say yourself, Kurt. She's not the type to disappear of her own free will. But assault and murder are still pretty rare. I think we should go about it in the usual way. Not get hysterical."

"I'm not hysterical," Wallander said, knowing that he was getting angry. "I know what I think, though, and I think certain conclusions speak for themselves."

Bjork was just about to intervene when the telephone rang.

"I said we shouldn't be disturbed," Bjork said.

Wallander quickly put his hand over the receiver.

"It could be Akerblom," he said. "Maybe it's best if I talk to him."

He picked up the phone and gave his name.

"Robert Akerblom here. Have you found Louise?"

"No," Wallander said. "Not yet."

"The widow just called," Akerblom said. "I have a map. I'm going there myself to take a look."

"I'll take you there," Wallander said. "That'll be best. I'll come right away. Can you make a few copies of the map? Five will do."

"OK," Akerblom said.

Wallander thought how truly religious people were usually law-abiding and compliant with authority. Yet nobody could have stopped Akerblom from going out on his own to look for his wife.

Wallander slammed down the receiver. "We have a map now," he said. "We'll take two cars to start with. Akerblom wants to come. He can come with me."

"Shouldn't we take a few patrol cars?" Martinsson said.

"We'd have to drive in a convoy if we did that," Wallander said. "Let's take a look at the map first, and draw up a plan. Then we can send out everything we've got."

"Call me if anything comes up," Bjork said. "Here or at home."

Wallander almost ran down the corridor. He had to know if the track just petered out, or if Louise Akerblom was still out there somewhere.

They took the map Akerblom had sketched to the widow's instructions, and spread it out over the bonnet of Wallander's car, which Svedberg had dried first with his handkerchief.

"E14," Svedberg said. "As far as the exit for Katslosa and Lake Kade. Take a left to Knickarp, then a right, then left again, and look for a dirt road."

"Wait a minute," Wallander said. "If you'd been in Skurup, which road would you have taken then?"

There were lots of possibilities. After some discussion Wallander turned to Akerblom. "What do you think?" he said.

"Louise would have taken a minor road," he said without hesitation. "She didn't like the traffic on the E14. I think she'd have gone by way of Svaneholm and Brodda."

"Even if she was in a hurry? If she wanted to be home by 5.00?"

"Even so," Akerblom said.

"You take that road," Wallander said to Martinsson and Svedberg. "We'll go straight to the house. We can use the car phone if we need to."

They drove out of Ystad. Wallander let Martinsson and Svedberg pass, since they had the longer distance to travel. Akerblom sat staring straight ahead. Wallander kept glancing at him. He was rubbing his hands anxiously, as if he couldn't make up his mind whether or not to clasp them together. Wallander could feel Akerblom's tension. What would they find?

He slowed down as they approached the exit for Lake Krageholm, let a truck pass, and recalled having driven along this same road one early morning two years before, when an old farmer and his wife had been beaten to death in a remote farmhouse. He shuddered at the memory, and thought - as he so often did - of his colleague Rydberg, who died last year. Every time Wallander was faced with an investigation out of the ordinary, he missed the experience and advice of the older man.

What's going on in this country of ours? he said to himself. Where have all the old-fashioned thieves and conmen gone? Where does all this senseless violence come from?

The map was lying by the gear lever.

"Are we going the right way?" he said, to break the silence in the car.

"Yes," Akerblom said, without taking his eyes off the road. "We should take a left just over the brow of this next hill."

They drove into the Krageholm forest. The lake was on their left, shimmering through the trees. Wallander slowed down, and they started looking out for the turning.

It was Akerblom who saw it first. Wallander had already driven past. He reversed and came to a halt.

"You stay in the car," he said. "I'll go and look around."

The actual turning into the dirt road was almost overgrown. Wallander got down on one knee and could make out faint traces of car tyres. He could feel Akerblom's eyes on his neck. He went back to the car and called Martinsson and Svedberg. They'd just got as far as Skurup.

"We're at the start of the dirt road," Wallander said. "Be careful when you turn in. Don't drive over the tyre marks."

"Roger," Svedberg said. "We're on our way now."

Wallander turned into the track, avoiding the tyre marks.

Two cars, he thought. Or the same one going in and coming back.

They shuddered along the muddy and badly maintained road. It was supposed to be a kilometre to the house that was up for sale. To his surprise, Wallander saw on the map that the house was called Solitude.

After three kilometres the track petered out. Akerblom stared uncomprehendingly at the map and at Wallander.

"Wrong road," Wallander said. "We couldn't have missed the house. It's beside the road. Let's go back."

When they emerged onto the main road, they drove slowly and came to the next turning a few hundred metres further on. Wallander repeated his investigation. Unlike the previous road, this one had a great many tracks, one over the other. The road also gave the impression of being better maintained, but they could not find the house here, either. They caught a glimpse of a farmhouse through the trees, but it didn't look anything like the description they had. Wallander stopped after they had gone four kilometres.

"Do you have Mrs Wallin's number?" he said. "I get the feeling that she has a poor sense of direction."

Robert Akerblom said that he had and took a small address book from his inside pocket. There was a bookmark shaped like an angel between the pages.

"Call her," Wallander said. "Explain that you're lost. Ask her to give you the directions again."

The phone rang for some time before the widow answered. It turned out that Mrs Wallin was by no means sure how many kilometres it was to the turn-off.

"Ask if there is some other landmark," Wallander said. "There must be something we can use to get our bearings. If not, we'll have to send a car and bring her here."

Wallander let Akerblom talk to Mrs Wallin without switching the phone on to the loudspeaker.

"An oak tree struck by lightning," Akerblom said. "We turn off just before we get to the tree."

They drove on, and after two more kilometres saw the oak. There was also a road going to the right. Wallander called Svedberg and explained how to find it. Then he searched for the third time, looking for tyre tracks. To his surprise he found nothing at all to suggest any vehicle had used this road for some time. That wasn't necessarily significant. The tracks could have been washed away by rain. Nevertheless, he felt something approaching disappointment.

The house was where it ought to have been, by the road, one kilometre in. They stopped and got out of the car. It had started raining, and the wind was blowing in gusts.

Akerblom set off at once, running towards the house, yelling out his wife's name in a shrill voice. Wallander stayed by the car. It happened so quickly, he was taken by surprise. When Akerblom disappeared behind the house, he ran after him.

No car, he thought. No car, and no Mrs Akerblom.

He caught up with Akerblom just as he was about to throw a brick through a window at the back of the house. Wallander grabbed his arm.

"It's no good," Wallander said.

"She may be in there," Akerblom shouted.

"You said she didn't have any keys to the house," Wallander pointed out. "Put the brick down and we'll look for a door that's been forced. But I can tell you now, she's not there."

Without warning Akerblom collapsed to the ground.

"Where is she?" he said. "What's happened?"

Wallander felt a lump in his throat. He had no idea what to say.

Then he took Akerblom by the arm and helped him to his feet. "No point in sitting here and making yourself ill," he said. "Let's look around."

There was no door that had been forced. They peered in through uncurtained windows and saw only empty rooms. They had just concluded there was nothing else to see when Martinsson and Svedberg turned into the drive.