The following evening, 5 June, Mona went to visit her parents in Staffanstorp. Wallander played poker with his father for several hours. For once his father was in a good mood and did not start criticising Wallander for his choice of profession. When he went on to win almost fifty kronor from his son he became so jolly that he took out a bottle of cognac.

'Sometime I want to go to Italy,' he said after they had said cheers. 'And once in my life I also want to see the pyramids in Egypt.'

'Why?'

His father looked at him for a long time.

'That is an extraordinarily stupid question,' he said. 'Of course you should see Rome before you die. And the pyramids. It is part of a well-rounded person's general education.'

'How many Swedes do you think can afford to go to Egypt?'

His father pretended not to hear his objection.

'But I am not about to die,' he added instead. 'What I will do is move to Löderup.'

'How's the property deal coming along?'

'It's already done.'

Wallander stared at him with surprise.

'What do you mean by "done"?'

'I've already bought and paid for the house. Svindala 12:24 is the address.'

'But I haven't even seen it.'

'You're not the one who's going to live there. I am.'

'Have you even been out there?'

'I've seen a picture of it. That's enough. I make no unnecessary trips. It encroaches on my work.'

Wallander groaned inside. He was convinced his father had been duped. Taken advantage of, as he so often had been when he sold his paintings to the dubious characters in their large American cars who had been his clients all these years.

'This is news,' Wallander said. 'May I ask when you're planning to move?'