"It's not true!" she screamed, and it was as if a floodgate had finally burst. Inese appeared in the shadows, and looked at Wallander: he knew immediately what he should do. He moved over to the sofa and put his arms round Baiba, who was shivering and sobbing. Wallander had time to register that she might be crying because Upitis had committed an act of betrayal that was so outrageous, it was impossible to comprehend, or she could be crying because the truth was about to be suppressed by means of a false, forced confession. She was sobbing frantically, and clinging on to him as if she were suffering a long drawn-out attack of cramp.
Looking back, it seemed to Wallander that was the moment when he burnt his boats and began to accept that he was in love with Baiba Liepa. He had realised the love he now felt had its origins in another person's need of him. He asked himself briefly if he had ever felt anything like it before.
Inese came in with two cups of tea. She briefly stroked Baiba Liepa's head, and the major's widow stopped crying almost immediately. Her face was ashen.
Wallander told her all that had happened, and that he would be returning to Sweden in the morning. He told her the whole story he had managed to piece together, and was surprised how convincing it sounded. He eventually got round to mentioning the secret which must exist somewhere or other, and she nodded to show she that understood.
"Yes," she said. "He must have hidden something away. He must have made notes. A true testimony can never consist of unwritten thoughts."
"But you don't know where it is?"
"He never said anything about it."
"Is there anybody else who might know?" "Nobody. I was the only one he confided in." "He has his father in Ventspils, doesn't he?" She looked at him in surprise.
"I found out about him," he said. "I thought he might be a possibility."
"He was very fond of his father," she said, "But he would never have trusted him with documents."
"Then where can he have hidden them?"
"Not in our flat. That would have been too dangerous. The police would have torn the whole building apart if they thought there might be anything hidden there."
"Think," Wallander said. "Put yourself back in time, try to remember. Where could he possibly have hidden them?"
She shook her head. "I don't know."
"He must have foreseen that something like this could happen. He must have assumed you would understand, would have known there was proof waiting for you to find. It must be somewhere that only you would think of."
She suddenly grabbed hold of his hand. "You must help me," she said. "You can't leave."
"It's impossible for me to stay," he said. "The colonels would never understand why I hadn't gone back to Sweden, and how would I be able to stay here without their knowing?"
"You can come back," she said, still clinging on to his hand. "You've got a girlfriend here. You can come as a tourist."
But you're the one I'm in love with, he thought. Not Inese. "You've got a girlfriend here," she repeated. He nodded. He did have a girlfriend in Riga, but it wasn't Inese.
He said nothing, and she didn't try to make him. She seemed convinced he would return. Inese came back into the room, and by now Baiba Liepa had got over the shock of hearing that Upitis had made a confession.
"In our country you can die if you say something," she said, "and you can die if you don't say anything. Or say the wrong things. Or talk to the wrong people. But Upitis is strong. He knows we won't abandon him. He knows we know his confession isn't true. That's why we will win in the end."
"Win?"
"All we ask for is the truth," she said. "All we ask for is decency, something fundamental. The freedom to live in the freedom we choose to live in."
"That's too big a thing for me," Wallander said. "I want to know who murdered Major Liepa. I want to know why two dead men drifted ashore on the Swedish coast."
"Come back here and I'll teach you about my country," Baiba Liepa said. "Not just me, but Inese as well."
"I don't know," Wallander said.
Baiba Liepa looked at him. "You can't be a man who lets people down," she said. "If you were, Karlis would have been wrong. And he was never wrong."
"It's not possible," Wallander repeated. "If I were to come back here, the colonels would know about it immediately. I'd have to have a false identity, a false passport."
"That can be arranged," Baiba Liepa said eagerly. "Provided I know you'll come back."
"I'm a police officer," Wallander said. "I can't risk my very existence by travelling around the world on a forged passport."
He regretted saying it the moment the words had crossed his lips. He looked Baiba Liepa in the eye, and saw the dead major's face.
"All right," he said slowly. "I'll come back."
The night wore on and it turned midnight. Wallander was trying to help Baiba Liepa locate some clue as to where the major could have hidden his proof. Her concentration was unshakeable, but nowhere could they find any traces. In the end their conversation simply petered out.
Wallander thought of the dogs that were looking out for him somewhere out there in the darkness – the colonels' dogs that never ceased to look for him. With a growing feeling of unreality, he saw that he was being drawn into a plot that would bring him back to Riga to conduct a criminal investigation in secret. He would be a non-police officer in a country with which he was completely unfamiliar, and this non-police officer would be trying to establish the truth about a crime that many people already regarded as solved, finished and done with. He knew the whole venture was mad, but he couldn't take his eyes off Baiba Liepa's face, and her voice had been so full of conviction he had been unable to withstand it.
It was nearly 2 a.m. when Inese announced they would have to call a hait. She left him alone with Baiba Liepa, and they bade farewell to each other in silence.
Baiba leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. "We have friends in Sweden," she said. "They'll be in touch with you. They'll help to organise your return."
Inese drove him back to the hotel. As they approached the bridge, she nodded at the rear-view mirror.
"Now they're tailing us. We must look as though we're very much in love and can't bear to part when we say goodbye outside the hotel."
"I'll do my best," Wallander said. "Maybe I should try and persuade you to come up to my room."
She laughed.
"I'm a good girl," she said, "but when you come back maybe we can let things go that far"
She left, and he stood for a while in the bitter cold, trying to look as if he were devastated by her going.
The next day he flew home via Helsinki.
The colonels escorted him through the airport and bade him a hearty farewell. One of these men murdered the major, Wallander said to himself. Or was it both of you? But how could a police officer from Ystad be expected to discover what really happened?
It was late evening when he got back home and unlocked the door of his flat in Mariagatan. Already the whole episode had begun to fade and take on the nature of a dream, and it seemed to him that he would never see Baiba Liepa again. She would have to mourn the death of her husband without ever discovering what happened.
He took a sip of the whisky he had bought during the flight. Before going to bed he spent a considerable time listening to Maria Callas, feeling tired and uneasy. He wondered how it was all going to end.