One Step Behind by Henning Mankell

separation. That's never an easy thing, especially when you have children."
    "I know," Wallander said.
    "At the same time I've started questioning my work. I read in the paper that some of our colleagues in Malmö were arrested for racketeering. I turn on the television and learn that senior members of the force are involved in the world of organised crime. I see all this and I realise it's happening more and more. Eventually it leads me to wonder what I'm doing. Or, to put it another way, I wonder how I'm going to last another 30 years."
    "It's all coming apart at the seams," Wallander agreed. "It's been going on for a long time. Corruption in the justice system is nothing new and there have always been police officers willing to cross the line. It's worse now, of course, and that's why it's even more important that people like you keep going."
    "What about you?"
    "That applies to me too."
    "But how do you do it?"
    Her questions were full of anger. He recognised a part of himself in her. How many times had he sat staring into his own desk, unable to find a reason to continue?
    "I try to tell myself that things would be even worse without me," he said. "It's a consolation at times. A small one, but if I can't think of any other I take it."
    She shook her head. "What's happening to our country?"
    Wallander waited for her to continue, but she didn't. A truck rattled past on the street outside.
    "Do you remember that violent attack last spring?" Wallander asked.
    "The one in Svarte?"
    "Two boys, both 14 years old, attack a third boy who is only 12. There's no provocation, no reason behind it. When he's lying there unconscious they start stomping on his chest. Finally he's not just unconscious, he's dead. I don't think it ever hit me so clearly before. People have always had fights, but they would stop when the other person was down. You can call it what you like. Fair play. Something you take for granted. But that's not the way it is any more, because these boys never learned it. It's as if a whole generation has been abandoned by their parents. Or as if not caring has become the norm. You have to rethink what it means to be a police officer because the parameters have changed. The experience you've acquired after years and years of grinding work doesn't apply any more."
    He stopped. They heard voices from the corridor. Some of the officers on night duty were talking about a drunk driver. Then everything went quiet again.
    "How have you been these past few years?" he asked her.
    "You mean since I was shot?"
    He nodded.
    "I dream about it," she said. "I dream that I die or that the bullet hits me in the head. I think that's almost worse."
    "It's easy to lose your nerve," Wallander said.
    She got up. "The day I get seriously scared I'll quit," she said. "But I'm not quite there yet. Thanks for stopping by. I'm used to dealing with my problems on my own, but tonight I needed someone to talk to."
    "It takes some strength to admit that."
    She put her coat on and smiled her pale smile. Wallander wondered how well she was sleeping, but he didn't ask her.
    "Can we talk about the car smugglers tomorrow?" she asked.
    "How about in the afternoon? Don't forget we have to talk about these young people in the morning."
    She looked at him closely.
    "Are you really worried?"
    "Eva Hillström is, and I can't disregard that."
    They walked out together. She rejected his offer of a ride home.
    "I need to walk," she said. "And it's so warm. What an August it's been!"
    "We're in the dog days," he said. "Whatever that saying means."
    They said goodbye. Wallander drove home. He drank a cup of tea and leafed through the Ystad daily paper, then went to bed. He left the window slightly open since it was so warm, and fell asleep at once.
    A violent pain woke him up with a start. His left calf muscle was locked in a spasm. He lowered his leg onto the floor and flexed it. The pain disappeared. He lay down again carefully, afraid that the cramp would return.