The Pyramid by Henning Mankell Page B

specialised motorcycle magazine that the customer ahead of him wanted. It was very hard for
Wallander not to immediately fall in love with a beautiful woman who came his way. Then and only then could he force all thoughts of Mona and associated anxiety into submission. Even though he had already bought two packs of cigarettes he bought one more. At the same time he was trying to work out if the woman in front of him was someone who would show disapproval if he said he was a policeman. Or if she belonged to the majority of the population who despite everything still believed that most policemen were in fact needed and honourably occupied. He took a chance on the latter.
    'I have some questions for you too,' he said as he paid for his cigar ettes. 'I am Detective Inspector Kurt Wallander.'
    'Oh my,' the woman answered. Her dialect was different.
    'You aren't from around here?' he asked.
    'Was that what you wanted to ask?'
    'No.'
    'I'm from Lenhovda.'
    Wallander did not know where that was. He guessed it was in
Blekinge. But he did not say this. Instead he continued to the matter of Hålén and the betting forms. She had heard about the fire. Wallander described Hålén's appearance. She thought for a moment.
    'Maybe,' she said. 'Did he speak slowly? Kind of quietly?'
    Wallander thought about it and nodded. That could describe Hålén's manner of speaking.
    'I think he played a small game,' Wallander said. 'Only thirty-two rows or so.'
    She reflected on this, then nodded.
    'Yes,' she said. 'He came here. Once a week. One week thirty-two rows, the next sixty-four.'
    'Do you remember what he wore?'
    'A blue coat,' she said immediately.
    Wallander recalled that almost every time he had seen Hålén he had been wearing a blue jacket with a zip.
    There was nothing wrong with her memory. Nor with her curiosity.
    'Had he done something?'
    'Not that we know.'
    'I heard it was suicide.'
    'Indeed it was. But the fire was arson.'
    I shouldn't have said that, Wallander thought. We don't know that for sure yet.
    'He always had exact change,' she said. 'Why do you want to know if he placed his bets here?'
    'Routine questioning,' Wallander answered. 'Can you remember anything else about him?'
    Her answer caught him by surprise.
    'He used to borrow the telephone,' she said.
    The telephone was on a little shelf next to the table where the betting forms were kept.
    'Was that a frequent occurrence?'
    'It happened every time. First he placed the bet and paid. Then he made his call, came back to the counter and paid for it.'
    She bit her lip.
    'There was something strange about those phone calls. I remember thinking about it one time.'
    'What was it?'
    'He always waited until another customer came into the shop before he dialled the number and started to talk. He never called when he and I were the only ones in the shop.'
    'He didn't want you to overhear.'
    She shrugged.
    'Maybe he just wanted his privacy. Isn't that normal?'
    'Did you ever hear what he talked about?'
    'You can listen even when you're attending a customer.'
    Her curiosity is a big help, Wallander thought.
    'What did he say?'
    'Not very much,' she answered. 'The conversations were always very brief. He gave times, I think. Not much more.'
    'Times?'
    'I had the feeling he was arranging a time with someone. He often looked at his watch while he was talking.'
    Wallander thought for a moment.
    'Did he usually come here on the same day of the week?'
    'Every Wednesday afternoon. Between two and three, I think. Or perhaps a little later.'
    'Did he buy anything else?'
    'No.'
    'How can you remember all this so precisely? You must have a large number of customers.'
    'I don't know,' she said. 'But I think you remember more than you realise. If someone starts to ask you it just comes back up.'
    Wallander looked at her hands. She wore no rings. He briefly considered asking her out but then dismissed the thought, horrified.
    It was as if Mona had overheard his thoughts.
    'Is there anything else you