It was a large room, almost completely empty. The only furniture was a desk and a chair. There was a large computer on the desk. Wallander approached it and saw that there was something resembling a blueprint on the desk next to the computer. He turned on the desk lamp.
It took him a moment to understand what it was.
Then he realized he was looking at a blueprint of the power substation where Sonja Hökberg had been killed.
Chapter Sixteen
Wallander held his breath.
At first he thought he was mistaken. It had to be a blueprint of something else. Then all doubt disappeared. He knew he was right. He carefully lay the paper back on the desk, next to the computer. He could see his own face reflected in its large dark screen. There was a phone on the desk. He thought he should call someone, either Martinsson or Höglund. And Nyberg. But he didn’t lift the receiver. Instead he started walking around the room slowly. This is where Tynnes Falk worked, he thought. Behind a reinforced steel door that would have been very hard for someone to open without a key. This is where he worked as a computer consultant. One evening his body is found next to a cash machine. His body disappears from the morgue, and now I find a blueprint for the power substation next to his computer.
For one breathtaking moment he thought he sensed the connection. But the myriad of facts was too confusing. Wallander kept walking around. What is here? he thought, and what is missing? There is a computer, a chair, a desk, and a lamp. There are a telephone and a blueprint, but no shelves, no binders, no books. There isn’t even a pen.
After making a round he returned to the desk and turned the lampshade so that the beam of light was directed at the wall. He turned it so the light illuminated each wall in turn. The light was strong, but he didn’t see any hiding places. He sat down in the chair. The silence around him was overwhelming. If Martinsson had been here, Wallander would have asked him to turn on the computer. Martinsson would have loved that job. But Wallander didn’t dare touch it himself. Again he thought that he should call him, and again he hesitated. I have to understand how this hangs together, he thought. That’s the most important thing right nozu. Nezu connections have been revealed in a much shorter span of time than I would have thought. The problem is that I can’t see the pattern yet.
It was now almost eight. He finally decided to call Nyberg.
It couldn’t help that it was already evening and Nyberg had been working for the past few days with no sleep. Someone else would probably have decided that the investigation of the apartment could wait until the following day, but Wallander was plagued by a sense of urgency that was only growing stronger. He called Nyberg on his cell phone. Nyberg listened without saying anything. He made a note of the address, and once they ended the conversation, Wallander made his way to street level to wait for him.
Nyberg arrived alone. Wallander helped him carry his bags up.
“What am I looking for here?” Nyberg asked once they were in the apartment.
“Prints. Secret compartments.”
“Then I won’t need anyone else for now. Can we wait on the photography and videotape?”
“Do it in the morning.”
Nyberg nodded and took off his shoes. He took out a pair of custom-made plastic shoes from one of his bags. Nyberg had always been frustrated with the protective shoe covers that were commercially available. A couple of years ago he had finally designed his own and found someone to make them. Wallander assumed he had paid for them out of his own pocket.
“Are you good at computers?” he asked.
“I know as little as the next man about how they actually work,” Nyberg said. “But I can probably get it started for you.”
Wallander shook his head.
“Martinsson would never forgive me if I let anyone else deal with it.”
Then he showed Nyberg the paper lying on the table. Nyberg saw at once what it was. He looked questioningly at Wallander.
“What does this mean? Did Falk kill the girl?”
“He was already dead when she was murdered,” Wallander answered.
Nyberg nodded.
He got a magnifying glass out of his bags and sat down at the table. He studied the blueprint while Wallander waited silently.
“This is not a copy,” Nyberg said finally. “It’s an original.”
“Are you sure?”
“Not completely, but almost.”
“That would mean someone should be missing it.”
“I don’t know if this is right or not,” Nyberg said, “but I talked to that guy Andersson about the security procedures at the power company. It should have been nearly impossible for anyone to make a copy of this blueprint, much less steal it.”
Nyberg had brought up an important point. If the blueprint had been stolen from files at the power company, that could yield more clues.
Nyberg set up his spotlights. Wallander decided to leave him alone. “I’m going into the station. Call me if you need me.”
Nyberg didn’t answer. He was already lost in his work.
Once Wallander was down on the street, he realized his mind was making a slightly different decision. He wasn’t going to go straight down to the station. Marianne Falk had talked about a woman named Siv Eriksson. She should be able to tell him more about Falk’s work as a consultant. She lived nearby, or at least her office was there. Wallander left his car where it was. He took Langgatan toward the center of town, then turned right on Skansgrand. The streets were deserted. He turned around twice, but there was no one behind him. The wind was still strong and he was cold. While he was walking he started thinking about the bullet. He wondered when what had happened was going to hit him for real, and he wondered how he would react.
When he arrived at the building that Marianne Falk had described to him, he saw the sign by the door at once. SERKON. SIV ERIKSSON, CONSULTANT.
The office should be on the second floor. He pushed the buzzer and crossed his fingers. If it were only her office, he would have to find her home address somehow.
But someone picked up almost at once. Wallander announced who he was and what he wanted. The woman who had answered didn’t say anything, but the door unlocked. Wallander went in.
She was waiting for him in the doorway when he came up the stairs. Although the light in the hallway was strong for his eyes, he recognized her at once.
He had met her the evening before when he had given his lecture. He had been introduced to her, but had of course forgotten her name. It flashed through his mind that it was odd that she hadn’t explained who she was. She must have known that Falk was dead.
It threw him for a moment. Was it possible that she still did not know? Was he going to be announcing a death?
“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said.
She let him into the apartment. There was the smell of an open fire coming from somewhere. Now he saw her clearly. She was in her forties, with medium-length dark hair and sharp features. He had been much too nervous when he met her to notice her appearance, but the woman he now saw made him self-conscious, the way he always felt when he saw someone he found attractive.
“I should explain why I’ve come,” he said.
“I already know that Tynnes is dead. Marianne phoned me.”