The Troubled Man Read Online Free Page A

in his office since early morning, yet again, for who knows how many times, going through the most important parts of the investigation material concerning the death of the arms dealer and the stolen revolvers. They thought they had identified the thieves, but they still had no proof. I’m not looking for a key, he thought. I’m hunting for the slightest sound of a distant tinkling from a bunch of keys. He had worked his way through about half of the voluminous documentation by three o’clock. He decided to go home, sleep for an hour or two, then get dressed for dinner. Linda had said Hans’s parents were sometimes a bit formal for her taste, but given that, she suggested her father wear his best suit.
    “I only have the one I wear at funerals,” said Wallander. “But perhaps I shouldn’t put on a white tie?”
    “You don’t need to come at all if you think it’s going to be so awful.”
    “I was only trying to make a joke.”
    “You failed. You have at least three blue ties. Pick one of those.”
    As Wallander sat in a taxi on the way back to Löderup at about midnight, he decided that the evening had turned out to be much more pleasant than he had expected. He had found it easy to talk to both the retired commander and his wife. He was always on his guard when he met people he didn’t know, thinking they would regard the fact that he was a police officer with barely concealed contempt. But he hadn’t detected any such tendency in either of them. On the contrary, they had displayed what he considered to be genuine interest in his work. Moreover, Håkan von Enke had views about how the Swedish police were organized and about various shortcomings in several well-known criminal investigations that Wallander tended to agree with. And he in turn had an opportunity to ask questions about submarines, the Swedish navy, and the current downsizing of the Swedish defense facilities, to which he received knowledgeable and entertaining answers. Louise von Enke hardly spoke but sat there for most of the time with a friendly smile on her face, listening to the others talking.
    After he had called a cab, Linda accompanied him as far as the gate. She held on to his arm and leaned her head on his shoulder. She did that only when she was pleased with him.
    “So I did okay?” asked Wallander.
    “You were better than ever. You can if you make an effort.”
    “I can what?”
    “Behave yourself. You can even ask intelligent questions about things that have nothing to do with police work.”
    “I liked them. But I didn’t get to know her very well.”
    “Louise? That’s the way she is. She doesn’t say much. But she listens better than all the rest of us put together.”
    “She seemed a bit mysterious.”
    They had come out onto the road and stood under a tree to avoid the drizzle, which had continued to fall all evening.
    “I don’t know anyone as secretive as you,” said Linda. “For years I thought you had something to hide. But I’ve learned that only a few mysterious people are in fact hiding something.”
    “And I’m not one of them?”
    “I don’t think so. Am I right?”
    “I suppose. But maybe people sometimes hide secrets they don’t even know they have.”
    The taxi headlights cut though the darkness. It was one of those bus-like vehicles becoming more and more common with cab companies.
    “I hate those buses,” said Wallander.
    “Don’t start getting worked up now! I’ll bring your car tomorrow.”
    “I’ll be at the police station from ten o’clock on. Go in now and find out what they thought of me. I’ll expect a report tomorrow.”
    She delivered his car the following day, shortly before eleven.
    “Good,” she said as she entered his office, as usual without knocking.
    “What do you mean, ‘Good’?”
    “They liked you. Håkan had a funny way of putting it. He said: ‘Your dad is an excellent acquisition for the family.’ ”
    “I don’t even know what that means.”
    She put