The Dogs Of Riga Part 24

For want of an alternative he made his way back through the empty streets to the hotel where he had earlier spent the night, but the door was locked and no lights went on upstairs when he rang the night bell. The pain in his hand was making him confused, and he was beginning to worry about whether he would lose his ability to think rationally altogether if he didn't get indoors soon, and thaw out. He went on to the next hotel, but once again he was unable to get any response when he rang the night bell. At the third hotel, though, which was even more decrepit and unappealing than the others, the outer door was not locked and he went in to find a man asleep behind the reception desk, his head resting on a table, a half-empty bottle of vodka at his feet. Wallander shook the man to wake him up, flourished the pa.s.sport he'd been given by Preuss, and was handed a room key. He pointed at the vodka bottle, put a Swedish hundred-krona note on the desk, and took it with him.

The room was small, with an acrid smell of musty furniture and nicotine-stained wallpaper. He flopped down on to the edge of the bed, took a couple of long swigs from the bottle, and could feel his body warmth slowly starting to return. Then he took off his jacket, filled the basin with cold water, and immersed his swollen, throbbing hand. The pain began to ease, and he reconciled himself to having to sit like this all night. Occasionally he took another swig from the bottle, and wondered anxiously what could have happened to Baiba.

He took the blue file from inside his s.h.i.+rt and opened it with his free hand. It contained about 50 typewritten pages, plus some blurred photocopies, but no photographs, which was what he had hoped for. The major's text was in Latvian, and Wallander couldn't understand a word. He noted that from page nine onwards the names Murniers and Putnis kept recurring at regular intervals: sometimes they were together in the same sentence. He couldn't work out what that meant, whether both colonels were being accused or whether the major's accusing finger had been pointed at just one of them. He gave up the attempt to decipher the secret doc.u.ment, put the file down on the floor, refilled the hand basin with water, and leaned his head back against the edge of the table. It was 4 a.m., and he dozed off. When he woke up with a start, he found he'd been asleep for 10 minutes. His hand had started hurting again, and the cold water was no longer easing the pain. He finished off what was left in the vodka bottle, wrapped a damp towel round his hand, and lay down on the bed.

Wallander had no idea what to do if Baiba failed to keep their rendezvous at the department store. He was beginning to have the feeling he had been defeated. He lay awake until dawn.

CHAPTER 18.

He sensed danger the moment he woke. It was nearly 7 a.m. He lay quite still in the darkness, listening. Eventually, he realised the danger was not a threat outside the door or somewhere in the room, but inside himself. It was a warning that he still hadn't turned over every stone to discover what was lying underneath it.

The pain seemed to have eased a little. Carefully, he tried to move his fingers although he still couldn't bear to look at his hand. The pain returned immediately. He wouldn't be able to last many hours more before seeing a doctor.

Wallander was exhausted. Before he'd dozed off, some hours earlier, he had felt defeated. The colonels' power was too great, and his own ability to handle the situation had been continually curtailed. Now, he could see that he was also being defeated by exhaustion. He didn't trust his own judgement, and he knew this was due to a lack of sleep over a long period.

He tried to a.n.a.lyse the nagging feeling he had experienced on waking. What had he overlooked? Where, in all his thoughts and his constant efforts to establish connections, had he drawn the wrong conclusions, or perhaps not thought things through properly? What had he still not managed to see? He couldn't ignore his instinct. Just now, in his dazed condition, it was his only chance of getting his bearings.

What had he still not managed to see? He sat up in bed carefully, still not having answered the question. He looked in disgust at his swollen hand for the first time, and filled the basin with cold water. He first dipped his face into it, then his injured hand. After a few minutes he went over to the window and opened the blind. There was a very strong smell of coal. Misty dawn was just breaking over the church towers of the city. He stayed at the window and watched all the people hurrying along the pavements, but he was still unable to answer his own question: what had he failed to see?

Then he left the room, paid, and allowed himself to be swallowed up by the city. It was as he walked through one of the city's many parks - he couldn't remember what it was called - that he noticed how many dogs there were in Riga. It wasn't just the invisible pack that was pursuing him. There were lots of other dogs, real ones, the kind people play with and take for walks. He paused to watch a pair of dogs involved in a violent fight. One was an Alsatian, the other a mongrel. The two owners were shouting at their dogs as they tried to separate them, and then began to shout at each other as well. The owner of the Alsatian was an elderly man, but the mongrel belonged to a woman in her 30s. Wallander had the feeling that what he was witnessing was symbolic of the opposing forces in Latvia. The dogs were fighting and the people as well, and there were no outcomes that could be predicted in advance.

He arrived at the central department store just as they were opening at 10 a.m. The blue folder was burning hot inside his s.h.i.+rt: his instinct told him he ought to get rid of it, to find a temporary hiding place.

While he'd been wandering around the streets that morning, he had monitored every movement behind and in front of him, and he was now certain that the colonels had encircled him again. There were more shadows than ever now, and the grim thought that a storm was brewing struck him. He stopped just inside the entrance and pretended to read an information board, but in fact he was observing a left luggage counter where customers could leave bags and parcels. The counter was L-shaped. He had remembered it all correctly. He went over to the bureau de change, bureau de change, handed over a Swedish note and received a bundle of Latvian notes in exchange. Then he went up to the floor where they sold records. He picked out two LPs of Verdi, and noted that the records were just about the same size as the file. When he paid and had the records put in a carrier bag, he saw the closest of the shadows pretending to study a shelf with jazz records. He then went back to the left luggage counter and waited for a few seconds until there were several people waiting to be served. He walked quickly to the farthest corner of the counter, pulled out the file and placed it between the records. He acted quickly, even though he could only use one hand properly. He handed in the carrier bag, was given a tag with a number, and walked away. The various shadows were dotted around near the entrance doors, but even so he felt pretty sure they hadn't noticed him putting the file into the carrier. Of course, there was a risk that they would search the bag, but he thought it was unlikely since they had watched him buy the two records. handed over a Swedish note and received a bundle of Latvian notes in exchange. Then he went up to the floor where they sold records. He picked out two LPs of Verdi, and noted that the records were just about the same size as the file. When he paid and had the records put in a carrier bag, he saw the closest of the shadows pretending to study a shelf with jazz records. He then went back to the left luggage counter and waited for a few seconds until there were several people waiting to be served. He walked quickly to the farthest corner of the counter, pulled out the file and placed it between the records. He acted quickly, even though he could only use one hand properly. He handed in the carrier bag, was given a tag with a number, and walked away. The various shadows were dotted around near the entrance doors, but even so he felt pretty sure they hadn't noticed him putting the file into the carrier. Of course, there was a risk that they would search the bag, but he thought it was unlikely since they had watched him buy the two records.

He looked at his watch: only 10 minutes to go until Baiba was due at their meeting place. He was still uneasy, but he felt more secure now for having got rid of the file. He went upstairs to the furniture department. Although it was still early, there were lots of customers gazing dreamily or in resignation at suites and bedroom furniture. Wallander strolled slowly towards the area displaying kitchen equipment. He didn't want to arrive too soon, but wanted to get to the meeting place at the exact time they had planned, and so he filled the time by wandering around and looking at various light fittings. They had agreed to meet among the ovens and refrigerators, all of which were made in the Soviet Union.

He saw her straight away. She was examining a cooker, and he noticed that it only had three hotplates. He could tell immediately that something was wrong. Something had happened to Baiba, something he had suspected the moment he woke up that morning. His uneasiness bristled and sharpened all his senses.

She noticed him at the same moment. She smiled, but he could see the fear in her eyes. Wallander walked towards her, not bothering to establish what positions the shadows had taken up. Just for the moment his whole attention was concentrated on finding out what had happened. He stood beside her, and they both stared at a dazzling white refrigerator.

"What's happened?" he asked. "Just tell me the important bits, we haven't much time."

"Nothing's happened," she said. "It was just that I couldn't leave the university as they had it under observation."

Why is she lying, he wondered frantically. Why is she trying to lie so convincingly that I won't notice?

"Did you get the file?" she asked.

He hesitated over whether he ought to tell the truth, but then he decided he was fed up with all the lies.

"Yes, I got the file," he said. "Mikelis was reliable."

She gave him a quick look.

"Give me it," she said. "I know where we can hide it."

It was clear to Wallander that this was not Baiba speaking. It was her fear that was asking for the file, the threat she was exposed to.

"What's happened?" he asked again, this time more firmly, and perhaps with a note of anger. "Nothing," she insisted.

"Don't lie," he said, unable to prevent his voice from rising. "I'll give you the file. What will happen if you don't get it?"

He could see she was at the end of her tether. Don't collapse just yet, he thought in desperation. We're still one step ahead of them as long as they are not sure whether or not I've got the major's testimony.

"Upitis will die," she whispered.

"Who has threatened you with that?"

She shook her head dismissively.

"I have to know," he said. "It won't have any effect on Upitis if you tell me."

She looked at him in horror. He took hold of her arm and shook her.

"Who?" he said. "Who was it?"

"Sergeant Zids."

He let her go. Her reply had made him furious. Would he never get to know which of the colonels was at the core of the conspiracy?

He noticed the shadows closing in on them. They now seemed to have decided that he had the major's testimony. Without pausing to think he grabbed hold of Baiba and dragged her with him in a race for the stairs. Upitis won't be the first to die, he thought. It'll be us, unless we can get away.

Their sudden flight had confused the pack of dogs. Even though he doubted whether they could get away, he knew they would have to try. He pulled Baiba after him down the stairs, elbowed aside a man who hadn't managed to get out of their way, and suddenly they found themselves in the clothing department. Sales a.s.sistants and customers stared at them in astonishment as they charged past. Wallander stumbled and fell into a rack of suits. As he pulled and grabbed at the suits, the rack overturned. When he fell, he'd landed on his injured hand and the pain shot through his arm like a knife. A security guard came running up and took hold of his arm, but Wallander had no inhibitions any longer. He punched the man in the face with his good hand, then pulled Baiba after him towards where he hoped there might be a back staircase or an emergency exit. The shadows were catching up, and making no attempt to conceal themselves now. Wallander was pus.h.i.+ng and pulling at doors that refused to budge, but eventually came to one standing ajar. They emerged into a back staircase, but he could hear footsteps coming towards them from below: there was no choice but to head for the upper floor.

He flung open a fire door and they came out on to a roof covered with gravel. He looked round for an escape route, but they were trapped. The only way down from the roof was the long leap into eternity. He noticed he was holding Baiba's hand. There was nothing to do but wait. He knew that the colonel who would soon step out on to the roof would be the man who had murdered the major. The grey fire door would reveal the answer at last, and he realised bitterly that it no longer mattered whether he'd guessed right or not.

When the door opened and Colonel Putnis stepped out accompanied by a group of armed men, however, he was surprised even so to see that he had been wrong. Despite everything he had come to the conclusion that Murniers was the monster who had been lurking for so long in the shadows.

Putnis came towards them with a very serious expression on his face. Wallander could feel Baiba's nails digging into his hand. He can't very well order his men to shoot us here, Wallander thought desperately. Or maybe he can? He recalled the execution of Inese and her friends, and suddenly he could feel himself trembling, overcome by fear.

Then Putnis's face broke into a smile, and Wallander realised to his bewilderment that it wasn't an animal of prey standing before him and smiling, but a man displaying great friendliness.

"You don't need to look so perplexed, Mr Wallander. You seem to think I'm the one behind all this business. But I must say, you're a very difficult person to protect."

For one brief moment Wallander's mind stood still. Then he realised he'd been right after all, that it wasn't Putnis but Murniers who was the devil's henchman he'd been hunting for so long. He'd also been right in suspecting there was a third possibility, that the enemy also had an enemy. Everything fell into place. His judgement hadn't let him down, and he stretched out his left hand in order to greet Putnis.

"A somewhat unusual meeting place," Putnis said, "but you are obviously a man of surprises. I must admit that I wonder how you managed to get into the country without our border guards noticing."

"I hardly know myself," Wallander said. "It's a very long story."

Putnis seemed concerned about his injured hand. "You ought to get that treated as soon as possible," he said.

Wallander nodded, and smiled at Baiba. She was still tense and didn't seem to understand what was going on.

"Murniers," Wallander said. "So he was the one?"

Putnis nodded. "Major Liepa's suspicions were well founded."

"There's a lot I don't understand," Wallander said.

"Colonel Murniers is a very intelligent person," Putnis said. "Certainly, he's an evil man, but I'm afraid that only shows that sharp minds often have a tendency to be located in heads belonging to brutal people."

"Is that certain?" Baiba said suddenly. "That he was the one who killed my husband?"

"He wasn't the one who smashed his skull," Putnis said. "That is more likely to have been his faithful sergeant."

"My driver," Wallander said. "Sergeant Zids. The one who killed Inese and the others in the warehouse."

Putnis nodded. "Colonel Murniers has never liked the Latvian nation," he said. "Even though he played the part of a police officer who held the political world at a distance, as do all professionals, in his heart and soul he is a fanatical supporter of the old regime. As far as he's concerned, G.o.d will always be in the Kremlin. That was the guarantee for his being able to form an unholy alliance with various criminals without interference. When Major Liepa began to see through him, he set false trails implicating me. I have to admit it was a long time before I began to suspect what was happening. Then I decided I might as well continue pretending not to know what was going on."

"I still don't understand, though," Wallander said. "There must have been more to it than that. Major Liepa talked about a conspiracy, something that would make the whole of Europe realise what was happening in this country."

Putnis nodded sagely. "Of course there was more to it than that," he said. "Something much bigger than a high-ranking police officer being corrupt and protecting his privileges with as much brutality as was necessary. It was a devilish plot, and Major Liepa had realised that."

Wallander felt cold. He was still holding Baiba's hand.

Putnis's armed men had withdrawn and were standing by the fire door.

"It was all very cleverly worked out," Putnis said. "Murniers had an idea and succeeded in selling it to the Kremlin and the leading Russian circles in Latvia. He had seen the possibility of killing two birds with one stone."

"By using the new Europe, where the border controls no longer existed, in order to earn money from the organised smuggling of drugs," Wallander said. "Including Sweden. But at the same time, he also used the drug smuggling to discredit the Latvian national movements. Am I right?"

Putnis nodded. "I could see from the start that you were a good police officer, Inspector Wallander. Very a.n.a.lytical, very patient. That's exactly how Murniers had worked it out. The blame for the drug trafficking would be attached to the freedom movements here in Latvia, and in Sweden public opinion would be radically altered. Who would want to support a political freedom movement that thanked you for the support it was receiving by flooding your country with drugs? It can't be denied that Murniers had created a weapon that was both dangerous and cleverly devised, a weapon that could have smashed the freedom movement in this country once and for all."

Wallander thought about what Putnis had said.

"Do you understand?" he asked Baiba.

She nodded slowly.

"Where is Sergeant Zids?" he asked.

"As soon as I have the necessary proof, Murniers and Sergeant Zids will be arrested," said Putnis. "I have no doubt Murniers is feeling very worried just now. He probably hasn't realised that all the time we've been keeping watch on those of his men who've been keeping watch on-you.

Of course, you could criticise me for exposing you to unnecessary danger, but I a.s.sumed it was probably the only way of finding the papers Major Liepa must have left behind."

"When I left the university yesterday, Zids was lying in wait for me," said Baiba. "He told me that if I didn't hand over the papers, Upitis would die."

"Upitis is innocent, of course," Putnis said. "Murniers had taken his sister's two small children hostage, and told him they'd be killed unless Upitis confessed to being Major Liepa's murderer. There really is no limit to what Murniers is capable of doing. It will come as a relief to the whole country once he's been exposed for what he is, and condemned to death and executed, as will Sergeant Zids. The major's evidence will be published. The plot will be revealed, not just in the courts, but it will be circulated to the whole nation. I've no doubt it will also be of interest to people beyond our borders."

Wallander could feel relief seeping through his body. It was all over.

Putnis smiled.

"All that remains is for me to read Major Liepa's doc.u.ments," he said. "And now you can go back home for real, Inspector Wallander. We are deeply grateful for the help you have given us."

Wallander took the numbered tag out of his pocket.

"The file is blue," he said. "It's in a carrier bag at the left luggage desk. Along with two records that I would like to have back."

Putnis laughed. "You really are very clever, Mr Wallander. You don't put a foot wrong unless you're forced to."

Was it something in Putnis's tone of voice that gave him away? Wallander never managed to work out precisely why he was suddenly struck by the awful thought - but just as Putnis was putting the tag into his pocket, it became crystal clear to Wallander that he had just made the biggest mistake of his life. He simply knew without knowing why he knew. He could no longer distinguish between intuition and rational thought, and his mouth was as dry as a desert.

Putnis continued to smile as he took his pistol from out of his pocket. His men closed in, spreading themselves all over the roof and pointing their machine guns at Baiba and Wallander. She didn't seem to grasp what was happening, and Wallander was struck dumb with fear and humiliation. At that very moment the fire door opened, and Sergeant Zids stepped out on to the roof. It occurred to Wallander's confused mind that Zids must have been there behind the door all the time, waiting to make his entrance. The show was over now, and he didn't need to wait in the wings any more.

"Your only mistake," Putnis said, his voice expressionless. "Everything I've just told you is absolutely true, of course. The only thing that distances my words from reality is my good self. Everything I said about Murniers applies to me. You were right and wrong at the same time, Inspector Wallander. If you had been a Marxist, like me, you would have realised that one must occasionally stand the world on its head in order to put it on its feet."

Putnis took a step backwards. "I trust you will realise that it is not possible for you to return to Sweden," he said. "After all, you'll be quite close to heaven when you die, up here on the roof."

"Not Baiba," Wallander pleaded. "Not Baiba."

"I'm so sorry," Putnis said.

He raised his gun, and Wallander realised he was going to shoot Baiba first. There was nothing he could do, he would die here on the roof in the centre of Riga. At that very moment the fire door burst open. Putnis gave a start and turned to see what had caused the unexpected noise. At the head of a large number of armed police officers pouring out on to the roof was Colonel Murniers. When he saw Colonel Putnis standing there with his gun in his hand, he did not hesitate. His own pistol was already drawn, and he shot Putnis through the chest, three bullets in rapid succession. Wallander threw himself over Baiba in order to s.h.i.+eld her. A violent gun battle raged all over the roof. Murniers's and Putnis's men tried to hide behind chimneys and ventilators. Wallander saw he was in the firing line, and tried to pull Baiba with him behind Putnis's corpse. He suddenly noticed Sergeant Zids crouching behind one of the chimneys. Their eyes met, then Zids noticed Baiba, and it was immediately clear to Wallander that Zids was going to try to take both of them hostage in order to secure a safe pa.s.sage for himself. Murniers's men outnumbered the others, and several of Putnis's henchmen had already been killed. Wallander could see Putnis's pistol lying beside his body, but before he could reach it Zids had flung himself at him. Wallander thrust his injured hand into Zids's face, and cried out in agony. Zids reeled from the force of the blow, his mouth started bleeding, but he had not been seriously hurt by Wallander's desperate reaction. There was hatred in his eyes as he raised his gun to shoot the Swedish police officer who had caused him and his superior so much trouble. But when the shot rang out and Wallander realised he was still alive, he opened his eyes and registered that Baiba was kneeling beside him. She had Putnis's pistol in her hands, and had shot Sergeant Zids between the eyes. She was crying, but he knew it was due to a mixture of fury and relief rather than the fear and misery she had been subjected to for so long.

The gunfire on the roof ceased just as suddenly as it had begun. Two of Putnis's men were wounded, the rest were dead. Murniers looked grim as he examined one of his own men who had received a number of gunshots to the chest, then he walked over to Baiba and Wallander.

"I'm sorry it had to turn out like this," he said apologetically, "but I had to know what Putnis said."

"You'll no doubt be able to read the full story in the major's papers," Wallander said.

"How could I have been sure they existed? And still less that you had found them?"

"By asking," Wallander said.

Murniers shook his head. "If I'd contacted either of you, I'd have entered into open warfare with Putnis, he'd have fled the country and we'd never have been able to catch him. I had no option but to keep watch over you by constantly following on the heels of Putnis's shadows."

Wallander suddenly felt far too weary to listen any more. His hand was throbbing and the pain was agonising. He took Baiba's hand and pulled himself up.

Then he pa.s.sed out. When he came round he was on a treatment table in hospital, his hand was in plaster and the pain had gone at last. Colonel Murniers was standing in the doorway, cigarette in hand, watching him and smiling.

"Do you feel better now?" he asked. "Our doctors are very good. Your hand was not a pretty sight. You can have the x-rays to take home with you."

"What happened?" Wallander asked.

"You fainted. I'm sure I would have done as well, if I'd been in your situation."

Wallander looked round the examination room. "Where's Baiba?"

"She's at home in her flat. She was very calm when I left her there a few hours ago."