"A life-raft drifting at sea," Martinsson said. "How do you see something like that? Only by being in a boat yourself."

"Exactly," Wallander said. "Precisely. But if he didn't do it, why does he want to remain anonymous?"

"Some people prefer not to get involved in things," Martinsson said. "You know how it is."

"Could be. But there might be another explanation. He might have quite a different reason for not wanting to get mixed up with the police."

"Isn't that a bit far-fetched?"

"I'm only thinking aloud," Wallander said. "Somehow or other we have to trace that man."

"Shall we send out an appeal for him to get in touch with us again?"

"Yes," Wallander said. "Not today, though. I want to find out more about the dead men first."

Wallander drove to the hospital. He'd been there many times, but he still had trouble finding the newly built complex. He paused in the cafeteria on the ground floor and bought a banana, then went upstairs to the pathology department. The pathologist, whose name was Mörth, hadn't yet started the detailed examination of the corpses. Even so, he was able to answer Wallander's first question.

"Both men were shot," he stated. "At close range, through the heart. I assume that is the cause of death."

"I'd like to see your report as soon as possible," Wallander said. "Is there anything you can say now about the time of death?"

Mörth shook his head.

"No," he said. "Mind you, that's an answer in a way." "Meaning what?"

"That they've probably been dead for quite a long time. That makes it more difficult to pin down the precise time of death."

"Two days? Three? A week?"

"I can't answer that," Mörth said, "and I don't want to guess."

He disappeared into the lab. Wallander took off his jacket, put on a pair of rubber gloves, and started to go through the men's clothes, which were laid out on what looked like an old-fashioned kitchen sink.