The Troubled Man Read Online Free Page B

the car keys on his desk. She was in a hurry since she and Hans had planned an outing with his parents. Wallander glanced out the window. The clouds were beginning to open up.
    “Are you going to get married?” he asked before she disappeared through the door.
    “They very much want us to,” she said. “I’d be grateful if you didn’t start nagging us too. We want to see if we’re compatible.”
    “But you’re going to have a baby?”
    “That will be fine. But being able to put up with each other for the rest of our lives is a different matter.”
    She disappeared. Wallander listened to her rapid footsteps, the heels ofher boots clicking against the floor. I don’t know my daughter, he thought. There was a time when I thought I did, but now I can see that she’s more and more of a stranger to me.
    He stood by the window and gazed out at the old water tower, the pigeons, the trees, the blue sky emerging through the dispersing clouds. He felt deeply uneasy, an aura of desolation all around him. Or maybe it was actually inside him? As if he were turning into an hourglass with the sand silently running out. He continued watching the pigeons and the trees until the feeling drifted away. Then he went back to his desk and continued doggedly reading through the reports piled high in front of him.
    Wallander spent Christmas with Linda’s family. He observed his granddaughter, who still hadn’t been given a name, with admiration and restrained joy. Linda insisted that the girl looked like him, especially her eyes, but Wallander couldn’t see any similarities, no matter how hard he tried.
    “The girl should have a name,” he said as they sat drinking wine on Christmas Eve.
    “All in good time,” said Linda.
    “We think the name will announce itself one of these days,” said Hans.
    “Why am I named Linda?” she asked out of the blue. “Where does that come from?”
    “You can blame me,” said Wallander. “Mona wanted to name you something different; I can’t remember what. But as far as I was concerned, you were Linda from the very beginning. Your granddad thought you should be called Venus.”
    “Venus?”
    “As you know, he wasn’t always all there. Don’t you like your name?”
    “I’ve got a good name,” she said. “And you don’t need to worry. If we get married, I’m not going to change my surname. I’ll never be Linda von Enke.”
    “Perhaps I should become a Wallander,” said Hans. “But I don’t think my parents would like that.”
    Over the next few days, Wallander spent his time organizing all the paperwork that had accumulated during the past year. It was a routine he had instigated years ago—before ringing out the old year, make room for all the junk that would build up during the one to come.
    The evening the verdicts in the arms theft trial were made public, Wallander decided to stay at home and watch a movie. He had invested in a satellite dish and now had access to lots of film channels. He took his servicepistol home with him, intending to clean it. He was behind in his shooting practice and knew he would need to submit to a test by the beginning of February at the latest. His desk wasn’t cleared, but he had no pressing business. I’d better make the most of the opportunity, he thought. I can watch a movie tonight; tomorrow might be too late.
    But after he got home and took Jussi out for a walk, he started to feel restless. He sometimes felt abandoned in his house out in the wilds, surrounded by empty fields. Like a wrecked ship, he sometimes thought. I’ve run aground in the middle of all these brown muddy fields. This restlessness usually passed quickly, but tonight it persisted. He sat in the kitchen, spread out an old newspaper, and cleaned his gun. By the time he’d finished it was still only eight o’clock. He had no idea what inspired him, but he made up his mind, changed his clothes, and drove back into Ystad. The town was always more or less deserted,