The Reckoning by Solomon Andrew

Author:Solomon, Andrew [Solomon, Andrew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Psychology, Biography
ISBN: 9781473520721
Amazon: 147352072X
Goodreads: 23351479
Publisher: Vintage Digital
Published: 2014-05-01T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 3

Hemberg came out to Arlöv a little after midnight. At that point the forensic investigation was already under way. Wallander had sent Andersson home in his car without giving him a better explanation of what had happened. Then he had stood by the gate and waited for the first police car to arrive. He had spoken with a detective inspector by the name of Stefansson, who was his own age.

‘Did you know her?’ he asked.

‘No,’ Wallander answered.

‘Then what are you doing here?’

‘I’ll explain that to Hemberg,’ Wallander said.

Stefansson regarded him sceptically but did not ask any further questions.

Hemberg started by walking around the kitchen. He stood in the doorway for a long time, simply looking at the dead woman. Wallander saw how his gaze travelled around the room. After standing there for a length of time he turned to Stefansson, who appeared to have great respect for him.

‘Do we know who she is?’ Hemberg asked.

They went into the living room. Stefansson had opened a handbag and spread some identifying documentation on the table.

‘Alexandra Batista-Lundström,’ he answered. ‘A Swedish citizen, but born in Brazil in 1922. It seems she came over right after the war. If I have understood this correctly, she was married to a man named Lundström. There are divorce papers here from 1957. But at that point she already had citizenship. She gave up the Swedish surname later on. She has a post office savings account under the name of Batista. No Lundström.’

‘Did she have any children?’

Stefansson shook his head.

‘It doesn’t seem like anyone else lived here with her. We’ve talked to one of the neighbours. Apparently she has lived here since the place was built.’

Hemberg nodded and then turned to Wallander.

‘Let’s go up a floor,’ he said, ‘and let the technicians work undisturbed.’

Stefansson was on his way to join them, but Hemberg held him back. There were three rooms upstairs. The woman’s bedroom, a room that was basically empty except for a linen cupboard, and a guest room. Hemberg sat down on the bed in the guest room and indicated to Wallander that he should sit in the chair in the corner.

‘I really only have one question,’ Hemberg began. ‘What do you think it is?’

‘You’re of course wondering what I was doing here.’

‘I would probably put it more forcefully,’ Hemberg said. ‘How the hell did you end up here?’

‘It’s a long story,’ Wallander said.

‘Make it short,’ Hemberg replied. ‘But leave nothing out.’

Wallander told him. About the betting forms, the telephone calls, the taxicabs. Hemberg listened with his eyes stubbornly directed at the floor. When Wallander finished, he sat for a while without saying anything.

‘Since you’ve found a murder victim, I naturally have to praise you for it,’ he started. ‘There also seems to be nothing wrong with your determination. Nor has your thinking been completely wrong. But apart from these things, it goes without saying that your actions have been completely unjustifiable. There is no room in police work for anything resembling independent and secret surveillance, with detectives assigning themselves their own work.

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