The woman nodded.

“I remember her,” she said. “I think she bought some pastries. Yes, I remember quite clearly. Napoleons. And a loaf of bread.”

Wallander thought for a moment.

“How many pastries?” he asked.

“Four. I remember I was going to put them in a carton, but she said a bag would be OK. She seemed to be in a hurry.”

Wallander nodded.

“Did you see where she went after she left?”

“No. There were other customers waiting to be served.”

“Thank you,” said Wallander. “You’ve been a great help.”

“What happened?” the woman asked.

“Nothing,” said Wallander. “Just routine.”

He left the store and walked back to the rear of the bank where Louise Akerblom had parked her car.

Thus far but no further, he thought. This is where we lose track. She sets out from here to see a house, but we still don’t know where it is. After she’d left a message on the answering machine. She’s in a good mood, she has pastries in a paper bag, and she’s due home at five o’clock.

He looked at his watch. Three minutes to three. Exactly three days since Louise Akerblom was standing on this very spot.

Wallander walked to his car, which was parked in front of the bank, put in a music cassette, one of the few he had left after the break-in, and tried to summarize where he’d gotten so far. Placido Domingo’s voice filled the car as he thought about the four pastries, one for each member of the Akerblom family. Then he wondered if they said grace before eating pastries as well. He wondered what it felt like to believe in a god.

An idea occurred to him at the same time. He had time for one more interview before they were gathering at the station to talk things through.

What had Robert Akerblom said?

Pastor Tureson?

Wallander started the engine and drove off towards Ystad. When he came out onto the E14, he was only just within the speed limit. He called Ebba at the station switchboard, asked her to get hold of Pastor Tureson and tell him Wallander wanted to speak to him right away. Just before he got to Ystad, Ebba called him back. Pastor Tureson was in the Methodist chapel and would be pleased to see him.