The Dogs of Riga (1992) by Henning Mankell

Author:Henning Mankell
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Henning Mankell
ISBN: 9781407017785
Publisher: Random House
Published: 1992-08-22T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 11

Wallander left the hotel at 5.30 p.m. He reckoned that if he couldn't shake off the shadows during the next hour, then he never would. When he said goodbye to Sergeant Zids after their lunch together - he had excused himself by saying he had some paperwork to deal with and preferred to do it in his hotel room - he had spent the rest of the afternoon trying to resolve how to get rid of the men tailing him.

He had no experience of being shadowed, and only very rarely had he done any shadowing of a suspect himself. He ransacked his memory to try to recall any words of wisdom from Rydberg about the difficulties of tailing people, but was forced to conclude he had not expressed any views on the art of shadowing. Wallander also realised that he could not plan any surprise manoeuvres since he wasn't familiar with the streets of Riga. He would have to seize any opportunity that arose, and he was not confident of succeeding, but he felt bound to try. Baiba Liepa wouldn't have gone to such lengths to ensure that they met in secret unless she had good reason. Wallander couldn't imagine someone married to the major would be prone to overly dramatic gestures.

It was already dark when he left the hotel, and it had started to get windy. He left his key at reception without saying where he was going or when he would be back. St Gertrude's Church, where the concert was to take place, was not far from the Latvia Hotel. He had a vague hope of being able to lose himself among all the people hurrying home from work.

Out in the street, he buttoned up his jacket and glanced quickly round, but couldn't see anybody who looked as if they were following him. Perhaps there was more than one of them? He knew that experienced shadows never trailed their target, but always tried to position themselves ahead. He walked slowly, stopping frequently to look at shop windows. He hadn't been able to think of a better ploy than pretending to be a foreigner who was looking for suitable souvenirs to take back home with him. He crossed the broad Esplanade and walked down the street behind the government offices. He thought of hailing a taxi and asking to be taken to somewhere and then transferring to another one, but decided that would be far too easy a ruse for a pursuer to see through. No doubt whoever was following him could very quickly establish who had used the city's taxis and where they had gone.

He stopped at a window display of drab-looking clothes for men. He didn't recognise any of the people passing by behind him, whose reflections he could see in the glass. What am I doing, he wondered. Baiba, you should have told Mr Eckers how he could find his way to the church without being followed. He set off again. His hands were cold, and he regretted not bringing any gloves with him.

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