Sjunnesson was picking his teeth and did not look at anyone. There were also two other men who
Wallander recognised. One was called Hörner and the other Mattsson.
Hemberg sat down at the short end of the table and pointed out a chair to Wallander.
'Is the patrol squad helping us out now?' Stefansson said. 'Don't they have enough to do with all those damn protestors?'
'The patrol squad has nothing to do with this,' Hemberg said. 'But
Wallander found that lady out in Arlöv. It's as simple as that.'
Only Stefansson seemed to object to Wallander's presence. The others nodded kindly. Wallander imagined that more than anything they were happy to have an additional hand. Sjunnesson put down the toothpick with which he had been picking his teeth. Apparently this was the sign that Hemberg could begin. Wallander noted the methodical care that characterised the investigative unit's proceedings. They worked from the existing facts, but they also took time – Hemberg, above all – to feel their way in exploring various directions. Why had
Alexandra Batista been murdered? What could the connection to Hålén be? Were there any other leads?
'The precious stones in Hålén's stomach,' Hemberg said towards the end of the meeting. 'I have received an evaluation from a jeweller of about 150,000 kronor. A lot of money, in other words. People in this country have been murdered for much less.'
'Someone hit a taxi driver on the head with an iron pipe a couple of years ago,' Sjunnesson said. 'He had twenty-two kronor in his wallet.'
Hemberg looked around the table.
'The neighbours?' he asked. 'Have they seen anything? Heard anything?'
Mattsson glanced through his notes.
'No observations,' he said. 'Batista lived an isolated life. Rarely went out except to buy groceries. Had no visitors.'
'Someone must have seen Hålén come by?' Hemberg objected.
'Apparently not. And the nearest neighbours gave the impression of being regular Swedish citizens. That is to say, extremely nosy.'
'When did someone see her last?'
'There were differing opinions on this. But of what I have been able to document, one can draw the conclusion that it was several days ago.
What's not clear is if it was two or three days ago.'
'Do we know what she lived on?'
Then it was Hörner's turn.
'She seems to have had a small annuity,' he said. 'In part with unclear origins. A bank in Portugal that in turn has affiliated branches in Brazil.
It always takes a damn long time with banks. But she didn't work. If you look at the contents of her cupboards, fridge and pantry, her life did not cost much.'
'But the house?'
'No loans. Paid for in cash by her former husband.'
'Where is he?'
'In a grave,' Stefansson said. 'He died a couple of years ago. Was buried in Karlskoga. I spoke to his widow. He had remarried. That was unfortunately somewhat embarrassing. I realised too late that she had no idea that there had once been an Alexandra Batista in his life. But he did not appear to have had any children with Batista.'
'That's how it can be,' Hemberg said, and turned to Sjunnesson.
'We're in the process,' he said. 'Different fingerprints on the glasses.
Seems to have been red wine in them. Spanish, I think. We're trying to match this to an empty bottle that was in the kitchen. We're checking to see if we have the prints in the register. Then of course we'll also compare them to Hålén's.'
'He may also be in Interpol's registers,' Hemberg pointed out. 'It can take a while until we hear back from them.'
'We can assume she let him in,' Sjunnesson continued. 'There were no signs of forced entry on the windows or doors. He can also have had his own key, for that matter. But there were none that fitted. The balcony door was open, as our friend Wallander has informed us. Since
Batista had neither a dog nor a cat, one could imagine that it was open to let in the night air. Which in turn should mean that Batista did not fear or expect that anything would happen. Or else the
Wallander recognised. One was called Hörner and the other Mattsson.
Hemberg sat down at the short end of the table and pointed out a chair to Wallander.
'Is the patrol squad helping us out now?' Stefansson said. 'Don't they have enough to do with all those damn protestors?'
'The patrol squad has nothing to do with this,' Hemberg said. 'But
Wallander found that lady out in Arlöv. It's as simple as that.'
Only Stefansson seemed to object to Wallander's presence. The others nodded kindly. Wallander imagined that more than anything they were happy to have an additional hand. Sjunnesson put down the toothpick with which he had been picking his teeth. Apparently this was the sign that Hemberg could begin. Wallander noted the methodical care that characterised the investigative unit's proceedings. They worked from the existing facts, but they also took time – Hemberg, above all – to feel their way in exploring various directions. Why had
Alexandra Batista been murdered? What could the connection to Hålén be? Were there any other leads?
'The precious stones in Hålén's stomach,' Hemberg said towards the end of the meeting. 'I have received an evaluation from a jeweller of about 150,000 kronor. A lot of money, in other words. People in this country have been murdered for much less.'
'Someone hit a taxi driver on the head with an iron pipe a couple of years ago,' Sjunnesson said. 'He had twenty-two kronor in his wallet.'
Hemberg looked around the table.
'The neighbours?' he asked. 'Have they seen anything? Heard anything?'
Mattsson glanced through his notes.
'No observations,' he said. 'Batista lived an isolated life. Rarely went out except to buy groceries. Had no visitors.'
'Someone must have seen Hålén come by?' Hemberg objected.
'Apparently not. And the nearest neighbours gave the impression of being regular Swedish citizens. That is to say, extremely nosy.'
'When did someone see her last?'
'There were differing opinions on this. But of what I have been able to document, one can draw the conclusion that it was several days ago.
What's not clear is if it was two or three days ago.'
'Do we know what she lived on?'
Then it was Hörner's turn.
'She seems to have had a small annuity,' he said. 'In part with unclear origins. A bank in Portugal that in turn has affiliated branches in Brazil.
It always takes a damn long time with banks. But she didn't work. If you look at the contents of her cupboards, fridge and pantry, her life did not cost much.'
'But the house?'
'No loans. Paid for in cash by her former husband.'
'Where is he?'
'In a grave,' Stefansson said. 'He died a couple of years ago. Was buried in Karlskoga. I spoke to his widow. He had remarried. That was unfortunately somewhat embarrassing. I realised too late that she had no idea that there had once been an Alexandra Batista in his life. But he did not appear to have had any children with Batista.'
'That's how it can be,' Hemberg said, and turned to Sjunnesson.
'We're in the process,' he said. 'Different fingerprints on the glasses.
Seems to have been red wine in them. Spanish, I think. We're trying to match this to an empty bottle that was in the kitchen. We're checking to see if we have the prints in the register. Then of course we'll also compare them to Hålén's.'
'He may also be in Interpol's registers,' Hemberg pointed out. 'It can take a while until we hear back from them.'
'We can assume she let him in,' Sjunnesson continued. 'There were no signs of forced entry on the windows or doors. He can also have had his own key, for that matter. But there were none that fitted. The balcony door was open, as our friend Wallander has informed us. Since
Batista had neither a dog nor a cat, one could imagine that it was open to let in the night air. Which in turn should mean that Batista did not fear or expect that anything would happen. Or else the
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