An Event in Autumn: A Kurt Wallander Mystery

Chapter 7

Linda was still up and about when Wallander came in through the door. She was in her dressing gown, and eyed his muddy shoes. They sat down in the kitchen and he told her what had happened.

“That sounds very strange,” she said when he had finished. “A house Martinson tipped you off about? And there’s a dead body buried in the garden?”

“It may sound strange, but it’s true.”

“Who is it?”

“How the hell can we be expected to know that?”

“Why do you sound so angry?”

“I’m tired. And maybe disappointed as well. I liked that house. And I could have managed the price.”

She reached out her hand and tapped him on the arm.

“There are other houses,” she said. “And you do have a home already, of course.”

“I suppose I was disappointed,” said Wallander again. “I could have done with a bit of good news, today of all days. Not a bit of a skeleton sticking out of the ground.”

“Can’t you try to see it as something exciting? Instead of a boring old garden, you get something that nobody knows about.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

Linda looked at him in amusement.

“You wouldn’t need to risk being burgled,” she said. “I think thieves are just as scared of ghosts as everybody else is.”

Wallander put the kettle on. Linda shook her head when he asked her if she’d like some tea.

He sat down with a pink teacup.

“You got that from me,” said Linda. “Do you remember?”

“You gave me it as a Christmas present when you were eight years old,” he said. “And I’ve always drunk tea out of this cup ever since.”

“It cost one krona at a rummage sale.”

Wallander sipped the tea. Linda yawned.

“I was looking forward to living in that house,” he said. “Or at least I’d begun to believe that I could move out of town at long last.”

“There are other houses,” said Linda.

“It’s not as easy as that.”

“What’s so difficult about it?”

“I think I demand too much.”

“Demand a bit less then!”

Wallander could feel that he was beginning to get angry again. Ever since she had been in her teens, Linda had accused him of making his life more complicated than it needed to be. He knew that what irritated him most of all was that, on occasions like this, Linda reminded him of her mother. And her voice was almost identical to Mona’s. If Wallander closed his eyes he felt uncertain about who was actually sitting opposite him at the kitchen table.

“Enough of that now,” said Wallander, rinsing out his cup.

“I’m going to bed,” said Linda.

Wallander sat up for a while, watching the television with the sound turned down. One of the channels was showing a program about penguins.

He woke up with a start. It was four o’clock in the morning. The television was blank but buzzing. He switched it off and hurried to bed before he had time to wake up properly.