Before the Frost by Henning Mankell Read Free Book Online

to keep this spread of lawlessness from getting any worse.”
    Martinsson followed her out into the reception area.
    â€œI hope all this talk hasn’t depressed you. We certainly don’t need more demoralized police officers—in order to be a good police officer you’ll need all the courage and faith you can muster. A cheerful disposition also helps.”
    â€œLike my dad?”
    Martinsson smiled.
    â€œKurt Wallander is very good at his job,” he said. “You know that. But he’s not renowned for being the life of the party around here, as I’m also sure you’ve already figured out.”
    Before she left, he asked her about her reaction to the murdered officer. She told him about the cadet ball, the TV in the kitchen, and its effect on the festivities.

    â€œIt’s always a blow,” Martinsson said. “It affects all of us, as if we’re suddenly surrounded by invisible guns out there aimed at our heads. Whenever a colleague is killed a lot of us think about leaving the force, but in the end most people choose to stay. And I’m one of them.”
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    Linda left the station and walked to the apartment building in the eastern part of Ystad where Zeba lived. She thought about what Martinsson had told her—and what he had left out. That was something her father had drilled into her: always listen for what is left unsaid. That could prove to be the most important thing. But she didn’t find anything like that in her conversation with Martinsson. He strikes me as the simple and straightforward type, she thought. Not someone who tries to read people’s invisible signals.
    She only stayed at Zeba’s briefly because Zeba’s boy had a stomach ache and cried the whole time. They decided to meet over the weekend when they would be able to have some peace and quiet to discuss the cadet ball and the success of Zeba’s handiwork.
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    But the twenty-seventh of August did not go down in Linda’s mind as the day she met with Martinsson, her mentor. It would be filed away in her mind as the day that Anna disappeared. After Linda had let herself into the apartment by picking the lock, she sat on the sofa and tried to recall Anna’s voice telling her about the man who met her gaze through the hotel window and who bore a striking resemblance to her father. What was it she had really been trying to say? She had insisted that it was her father. That was like Anna—she sounded convincing even when she was claiming as facts things that were imagined or invented. But she was never late for an appointment, nor would she forget a date with a friend.
    Linda walked through the apartment again, stopping in front of the bookcase by Anna’s desk in the dining room. The books were mostly novels, she determined as she read the titles, as well as one or two travel guides. Not a single medical textbook. Linda frowned. The only thing even close to a textbook was a volume on common ailments, the kind of encyclopedia a lay person would have. There’s something missing, she thought. These don’t look like the bookshelves of a medical student.

    She proceeded to the kitchen and took note of the refrigerator contents. There were the usual food items, a sense of future use suggested by an unopened carton of milk with a September 2 expiration date. Linda went back into the living room and returned to the question of why a medical student would have no textbooks in her bookcase. Did she keep them somewhere else? But that made no sense. She lived in Ystad, and she had often told Linda she did most of her studying here.
    Linda waited. At seven o’clock she called her father, who answered with his mouth full.
    â€œI thought you were coming home for dinner tonight,” he grumbled.
    Linda hesitated before answering. She was torn between wanting to tell him about Anna and saying nothing.
    â€œSomething came up.”
    â€œWhat is