Henning Mankell by The White Lioness

Author:The White Lioness [Lioness, The White]
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2010-09-02T20:50:17+00:00

"Funny time to burn garbage," Peters said, looking round. The place was deserted.

"Let's get back," Noren said.

Twenty minutes had passed they were at the house again. AH was quiet. The lights were out. Wallander's father and daughter were asleep. Many hours later they were relieved by Svedberg himself.

"All quiet," Peters said. He did not mention the excursion to the burning oil drum.

Svedberg sat dozing in his car. Dawn broke, and developed into morning.

By 8 a.m. he was wondering why there was no sign of anybody being up. He knew that Wallander's father was an early riser. By 8.30 a.m." he had the distinct impression something was wrong. He got out of his car, crossed the courtyard to the front door and tried the handle. The door was not locked. He rang the bell and waited. Nobody opened. He entered the dark hall and listened. Not a sound. Then he thought he could hear a scratching sound somewhere. It sounded like a mouse trying to get through a wall. He followed the noise until he found himself in front of a closed door. He knocked. By way of answer he could hear a muffled bellowing. He flung open the door. Wallander's father was lying in bed. He was tied up, with a length of black tape over his mouth.

Svedberg stood stock still. Then he very gently removed the tape and untied the ropes. Then he searched the whole house. The room in which he assumed Wallander's daughter slept was empty. There was nobody else in the house.

"When did it happen?" he asked.

"Last night, just after 11 p.m."

"How many of them were there?"

"One."

"One?"

"That's right. But he had a gun."

Svedberg's mind was a complete blank. He went to the telephone to call Wallander.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

The acrid smell of winter apples. That was the first thing she noticed. But after that, when she opened her eyes in the darkness, there was nothing but being alone and terrified. She was lying on a stone floor, but it smelled of damp earth. There was not a sound, even though fear sharpened all her senses. She felt the rough surface of the floor with one hand. It was made of individual slabs fitted together. She was in a cellar. In Osterlen, where her grandfather lived and where she had been brutally woken and abducted by an unknown man, there was a similar floor in the potato cellar.

When there was nothing more for her senses to register, she felt dizzy and her headache got steadily worse. She could not say how long she had been there in darkness and silence; her watch was still on her bedside table. Nevertheless she guessed that it was many hours since she had been woken up and dragged away.

Her arms were free, but she had a chain around her ankles. When she felt it with her fingers she discovered there was a padlock. The feeling of being confined by an iron lock turned her cold. People were usually tied up with ropes. They were softer, more flexible.

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