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copy."
    "Then why do you have to ask?"
    Wallander looked at her for a moment. She was just as tense as Martinsson had described.
    "I'm asking these questions in order to confirm certain statements," he said. "It's sometimes necessary."
    She nodded impatiently.
    "We have no real reason to believe that someone other than Astrid wrote these cards," Wallander said. "Can you think of anything else that makes you doubt their authenticity?"
    "No, but I know I'm right."
    "Right about what?"
    "That she didn't write this card, or any of the others."
    Suddenly, she stood up and started to scream at him. Wallander was completely unprepared for the violence of her reaction. She was leaning over his desk, and she grabbed his arms and shook him, screaming the whole time.
    "Why don't you do anything? Something must have happened!"
    Wallander freed himself from her grasp with some difficulty and stood up.
    "I think you'd better calm down," he said.
    But Eva Hillström kept screaming. Wallander wondered what people walking by his door were thinking. He went around his desk, grabbed her firmly by the shoulders, pushed her down in the chair and and held her there. Her outburst stopped as abruptly as it had begun. Wallander slowly loosened his grip and returned to his chair. Eva Hillström stared down at the floor. Wallander waited, thoroughly shaken. There was something about her reaction, something about her conviction, that was contagious.
    "What is it that you think has happened?" he asked after a little while.
    She shook her head. "I don't know."
    "There is nothing to indicate an accident or anything else."
    She looked at Wallander.
    "Astrid and her friends have gone on trips before," he said. "Although perhaps not for as long as this one. They had cars, money, passports. My colleagues have gone over this before. What's more, they're of an age when you're inclined to act on impulse without having made prior plans. I have a daughter myself who is a couple of years older than Astrid. I know how it is."
    "I just know," she said. "I know I tend to worry. But this time there's something that doesn't feel right."
    "The other parents don't seem quite as worried as you do. What about Martin Boge's and Lena Norman's parents?"
    "I don't understand them."
    "We take your concern seriously," he said. "That's our job. I promise to review this case one more time."
    His words seemed to reassure her momentarily, but then the anxiety returned. Her face was open and vulnerable. Wallander felt sorry for her.
    The conversation was over. She got up, and he followed her out to the reception area.
    "I'm sorry I lost control," she said.
    "It's natural to be worried," Wallander said.
    She shook his hand quickly, then disappeared through the glass doors.
    Wallander went back to his room. Martinsson stuck his head out the door of his office and looked at him with curiosity.
    "What were you doing in there?"
    "She's genuinely frightened," Wallander said. "We have to acknowledge that; but I don't know what to do about it." Wallander looked thoughtfully at Martinsson. "I'd like to do a thorough review of this case tomorrow with everyone who has the time. We have to decide if we should declare them missing or not. Something about this whole thing worries me."
    Martinsson nodded. "Have you seen Svedberg?" he asked.
    "He still hasn't been in touch?"
    "No. Just the same old answerphone message."
    Wallander grimaced. "That's not like him."
    "I'll try him again."
    Wallander continued to his room. He closed the door and called Ebba. "No calls for the next half hour," he said. "Anything from Svedberg, by the way?"
    "Should there be?"
    "I was just wondering."
    Wallander put his legs up on the desk. He was tired and his mouth was dry. On an impulse, he grabbed his coat and left the room.
    "I'm going out," he told Ebba. "I'll be back in an hour or two."
    It was still warm and calm. Wallander went down to the central library on Surbrunnsvägen. With some effort he found his way to the