They stopped only briefly in Rynge. The director immediately identified the unknown woman in the picture Wallander showed her. Then they continued on to the station in Ystad and went straight into Martinsson's office. Hansson was also there.

'Anders Wislander is still a minister outside Lund,' Martinsson said. 'But right now he's on sick leave.'

'Why?' Wallander asked.

'Because of personal tragedy.'

Wallander looked searchingly at him.

'What happened?'

'His wife died about a month ago.'

The room fell silent.

Wallander held his breath. He didn't know anything for sure, and yet he was now convinced they were on the right track. They would find the solution to the case, at least in part, with the minister Anders Wislander in Lund. He sensed a context unfolding.

Wallander and his colleagues went into the conference room. Nyberg had also appeared from somewhere. During the meeting, Wallander was very firm in his approach. They were to focus completely on Anders Wislander and his dead wife. That evening they tried to find out as much as possible about the couple. Wallander had ordered everyone to proceed with caution, to be as discreet as possible. When Hansson had suggested that they should contact Wislander that evening, Wallander had summarily dismissed it. That could wait until the following day. The task at hand was to take care of as much groundwork as possible.

This was not to say there was very much they could actually clarify. Rather, their task was to sift through what they already knew and introduce Anders and Louise Wislander as a grid over the known circumstances of Simon Lamberg's death.

They could, after all, establish a great deal. Svedberg managed, with the help of a reporter, to locate the obituary of Louise Wislander in Sydsvenska Dagbladet. From this they learned that she had been fortyseven at the time of her death. 'After drawn-out and patient suffering,' the obituary said. They went back and forth on what this phrase meant. She could hardly have committed suicide. Perhaps it had been cancer. In a death announcement they noted two children among the grieving. They discussed at length whether they should notify their colleagues in Lund. Wallander hesitated, but decided against it. It was still too early.

A little after eight, Wallander asked Nyberg to do something that did not ordinarily fall under his responsibilities. But Wallander turned to him, because he felt he needed to keep the others close by. Nyberg was assigned the task of finding out if Wislander's home address was a free-standing house or an apartment. Nyberg left. They sat down to conduct a fresh review. A pizza had been ordered from somewhere. While they ate, Wallander tried to come up with an interpretation where Anders Wislander was the perpetrator.

There were many objections. The professed love affair between Simon Lamberg and Louise Wislander lay several years back in time. In addition, she was deceased. Why would Anders Wislander react at this late stage? Was there even anything that indicated that he had this capacity for violence? Wallander realised that all of these objections were major. He wavered, but did not relinquish his conviction that they were nonetheless close to the answer.

'The only thing we have left is to talk to Wislander,' he said. 'And we'll do that tomorrow. Then we'll see.'

Nyberg returned. He informed Wallander that Wislander lived in a free-standing house owned by the Church of Sweden. Since he was on leave, Wallander assumed they would find him at home. Before they broke up for the evening, Wallander decided to take Martinsson with him the next day. They did not need to be more than two.

He drove home through the spring warmth around midnight. He took the street past St Gertrude's Square. Everything was very still. A wave of melancholy and fatigue washed over him. For a moment, the world appeared to consist entirely of sickness and death. And an emptiness left by Mona. But then he thought about spring having arrived at last. He shook off his distress. They were going to speak to Wislander tomorrow. Then they would know if they were closer to a solution or not.

He stayed up for a long time. He had the urge to call both Linda and Mona. Around one o'clock he boiled a couple of eggs that he ate standing in front of the sink. Before he went to bed he studied his face in the bathroom mirror. His cheek was still discoloured. He also saw that he needed a haircut.

He slept badly and got up at five o'clock. While he waited for Martinsson to arrive he sorted through the mountain of laundry and vacuumed the apartment. He had several cups of coffee, standing at the kitchen window, once again reviewing all the circumstances of Simon Lamberg's death.

At eight o'clock he walked down to the street and waited. It was going to be yet another beautiful spring day. Martinsson was punctual as usual. Wallander got into the car. They drove towards Lund.

'I slept badly for once,' Martinsson said. 'I don't usually. But it was as if I had a premonition.'

'A premonition about what?'

'I don't know.'

'It's probably just spring.'

Martinsson glanced over at him.

'What do you mean, "just spring"?'

Wallander didn't reply, just muttered something under his breath.

They arrived in Lund shortly before nine thirty. As usual, Martinsson had driven jerkily and with poor concentration. But apparently he had memorised the directions. He had no trouble finding the street where Wislander lived. They drove past number 19 and parked the car out of sight.

'Let's go,' Wallander said. 'Let me do all the talking.'

The house was large. Wallander guessed that it dated to the beginning of the century. As they walked in through the gate he noticed that the garden needed attention. He saw that Martinsson had noticed the same thing. Wallander rang the doorbell, wondering what awaited them. He rang again. No one opened. More rings. Same response: nothing. Wallander made a quick decision.

'Wait here. Not by the house, out in the street. His church isn't far from here. I'll take your car.'

Wallander had written down the name of the church. Svedberg had pointed it out on a map last night. It took him five minutes to get there. The church looked abandoned. At first he thought he was mistaken. Anders Wislander wasn't there. But when he tried the church doors, they were unlocked. He stepped into the dim vestibule and pulled the door shut behind him. It was very quiet. No sound from the outside penetrated the thick walls. Wallander walked into the main church space. It was well lit in there. The sun streamed in through the tinted stained-glass windows.

Wallander saw that someone was sitting in the front row, closest to the altar. He walked slowly down the aisle. A man was sitting there, hunched over, as if in prayer. Only when Wallander had reached the front did he look up. Wallander recognised him. It was Anders Wislander. The face was the same as in the only one of Lamberg's photographs in which he appeared. He was unshaven and his eyes were moist. Wallander immediately started to feel ill at ease. He now regretted having left Martinsson behind.

'Anders Wislander?' he asked.

The man stared back at him earnestly.

'Who are you?'

'My name is Kurt Wallander and I'm with the police. I'd like to talk to you.'

Wislander's voice suddenly became shrill and impatient when he answered.

'I am grieving. You are disturbing me. Leave me in peace.'

Wallander felt his discomfort grow. The man in the pew appeared close to a breaking point.

'I know that your wife is dead,' he said. 'That's what I want to talk to you about.'

Wislander stood up from his seat so forcefully that Wallander shrank back. Now he was certain that Wislander was unbalanced.

'You disturb me and do not leave although I ask you. Therefore I must listen to what you have to say,' he said. 'We can go into the sacristy.'