"By Nils Stridh?"
"Who else could it have been?"
They thought for a moment. "It sounds like blackmail to me," she said finally. "But what could Stridh have known about Svedberg?"
"That remains to be seen. But I think Bror Sundelius knows more than he's telling."
"We should put a little pressure on him."
"We will," Wallander answered. "As soon as we have some time to spare."
They had a meeting at 10 a.m. Martinsson, Hansson and the three officers from Malmö were there. Nyberg was still at the crime scene and Holgersson had barricaded herself in her office. She was dealing with the press. Thurnberg was keeping his distance, although Wallander caught sight of him in the hall. The meeting took a light-hearted turn when someone started passing around the complaint that had been filed by the jogger, Nils Hagroth, about Wallander's assault on him at the nature reserve. Wallander was the only one who failed to find it funny, not because he was bothered by the report itself, but because he didn't want his team to become distracted.
They had a lot to do. Wallander and Höglund would drive out to Köpingebro to talk with Malin Skander's parents, while Martinsson and Hansson would handle Torbjörn Werner's relatives. Wallander nodded off the moment he got into Höglund's car, and she let him sleep.
He woke up when she stopped the car, at a farm just outside Köpingebro. Although it was a beautiful day, an unnatural quiet reigned in the house and garden. All the doors and windows were shut. As they walked up to the main house, a man wearing a dark suit came walking towards them. He was well into middle age, tall and strongly built. His eyes were red. He introduced himself as Lars Skander, father of the bride.
"You'll have to talk to me," he said. "My wife isn't up to it."
"We offer you our condolences," Wallander said. "We're also sorry we couldn't leave you in peace, but it's imperative that we get answers to a few questions."
"Of course, if it can't wait." Lars Skander didn't try to hide either his bitterness or his sorrow. "You have to get this maniac."
The look he gave them was pleading. "How can someone do this? How can someone murder two people about to have their wedding pictures taken?"
Wallander was afraid that the man was going to break down, but Höglund took charge of the situation.
"We're only going to ask you a few essential questions," she said. "Only as much as we need in order to catch whoever did it."
"Can we sit outside?" Lars Skander asked. "It's so oppressive inside."
They walked in silence to the garden at the back of the house. A table and four chairs stood under an old cherry tree.
"Can you think who might have done this?" Wallander asked after they had gone through the most straightforward details about the murdered couple. "Did they have any enemies?"
Lars Skander stared back at him, uncomprehending. "Why would Malin and Torbjörn have had enemies? They were friends with everyone. You couldn't find more peace-loving people."
"It's an important question. I need you to think very carefully before answering."
"I have thought about it. I can't think of a single person."
Wallander moved on. Information, he thought. What we need to know is how the killer got the information he needed.
"When did they choose the day for their wedding?"
"I can't recall exactly. Sometime in May, I think. First week of June at the latest."
"When did they decide upon Nybrostrand as the place where their wedding pictures would be taken?"
"That I don't know. Torbjörn and Malin planned everything carefully in advance, and Torbjörn and Rolf Haag went way back, so I'm sure the plans for the photography were made early."
"Two months ago, then?"
"Something like that."
"Who knew that the wedding pictures were going to be taken on the beach?"
The answer came as a surprise. "Almost no one."
"Why not?"
"They wanted to be left alone during that time, between the church and the reception. Only they and Rolf knew where they were going. They said it would be like a secret honeymoon for a couple of hours."
Wallander and Höglund exchanged glances.
"This is extremely important," Wallander said. "I have to make sure I've understood you correctly. Apart from Malin and Torbjörn, only the photographer knew where the pictures were going to be taken?"
"That's right."
"And the location was chosen sometime at the end of May or beginning of June."
"Originally, they were going to have the pictures taken up by the Ale stones," Lars Skander said. "But then they changed their minds. It's become commonplace for couples to have their pictures taken up there, apparently."
Wallander frowned. "So you did know where they were going to have the pictures taken."
"I knew about the Ale stones plan. But then they changed their minds, like I said."
Wallander drew his breath in sharply. "When was it that they changed their minds?"
"Just a couple of weeks ago."
"And the new location was kept a secret?"
"Yes."
Wallander studied Lars Skander without speaking. Then he turned to Höglund. He knew they were thinking the same thing. The location had been changed only a few weeks ago, and the couple had been sure it was their secret. But someone had still managed to trespass into their private plans.
"Call Martinsson," Wallander said to Höglund. "Get him to confirm this with the Werner family."
She got up and walked away to make the call.
We haven't been this close before, Wallander thought. He tried to go through all the possibilities in his head. He still didn't know for sure if Rolf Haag had an assistant or not, and it was still possible that a close friend had known about the plans, despite what Lars Skander had told them.
At that moment, a window on the top floor of the house was flung open. A woman leaned out, screaming.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Wallander would retain the image of the screaming woman in his head for a long time. It had been one of the most beautiful days of an unusually warm summer, the garden was green and lush, and Höglund was leaning against the pear tree talking on her mobile phone while he sat across from Lars Skander in a white wooden chair. Both he and Höglund immediately thought it was too late, that the woman who had flung open the window was about to hurl herself down onto the flagstones. They would never get to her in time.
There was a moment of complete calm, as if everything was frozen. Then Höglund dropped her phone and ran towards the window, while Wallander yelled something – he hardly knew what. Lars Skander got to his feet very slowly. The woman in the window continued to scream. She was the mother of the dead bride, and her pain cut that warm August day like a diamond cuts glass. They agreed afterwards that it was her scream that shook them the most.
Höglund disappeared into the house, while Wallander remained under the window with outstretched arms. Lars Skander stood at his side like a ghost, staring up at the distraught woman in the window. Then Höglund appeared out of nowhere behind her and pulled her into the room. Everything went quiet.
When Wallander and Lars Skander entered the bedroom, Höglund was sitting on the floor with her arms around the woman. Wallander went back downstairs and called an ambulance. They returned to the garden at the back of the house once the ambulance had come and gone. Höglund picked up the phone that lay in the grass.
"Martinsson had just answered when it happened. He must have wondered what was going on," she said.
He sat back down in one of the chairs. "Call him," he said.
She sat down across from him. A bee buzzed back and forth between them. Svedberg had a phobia of bees. Now he was dead. That's why they were there, in the Skanders' garden. Many others were also dead. Too many.