“Probably nothing at all,” said Wallander. “There’s bound to be a natural explanation.”

Wallander got hold of Bjork just as he was about to leave. He was looking harassed, as usual. Wallander imagined a chief constable’s job wasn’t something to feel envious about.

“Sorry to hear about the burglary,” said Bjork, trying to look sympathetic. “Let’s hope the newspapers don’t get hold of this one. It wouldn’t look good, a detective inspector’s home being broken into. We have a high percentage of unsolved cases. The Swedish police force is pretty low on the international league tables.”

“That’s the way it goes,” said Wallander. “I need to talk to you about something.”

They were standing in the corridor outside Bjork’s office.

“It can’t wait till after lunch,” he added.

Bjork nodded, and they went back into the office.

Wallander put his cards on the table. He reported in detail his meeting with Robert Akerblom.

“A mother of two, religious,” said Bjork when Wallander had finished. “Missing since Friday. Doesn’t sound good.”

“No,” said Wallander. “It doesn’t sound good at all.”

Bjork eyed him shrewdly.

“You think there’s been a crime?”

Wallander shrugged.

“I don’t really know what I think,” he said. “But this isn’t a straightforward missing persons case. I’m sure about that. That’s why we ought to mobilize the right resources from the start. Not just the usual wait-and-see tactics.”

Bjork nodded.

“I agree,” he said. “Who do you want? Don’t forget we’re understaffed as long as Hanson’s away. He managed to pick just the wrong moment to break his leg.”

“Martinson and Svedberg,” replied Wallander. “By the way, did Svedberg find that young bull that was careening around the E14?”

“A farmer got it with a lasso in the end,” said Bjork glumly. “Svedberg twisted his ankle when he tumbled into a ditch. But he’s still at work.”