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into the apartment and had hit his knee on a corner of the table. He only discovered now that it was bleeding.
    Extinguishing the blaze had gone quickly since the fire had not really had a chance to establish itself before Wallander had smelled the smoke and alerted the fire brigade. When he approached the fire chief to find out if they had already determined the cause of the blaze, he had been turned away. Furious, he had gone to his apartment and retrieved his police badge. The fire chief 's name was Faråker and he was in his sixties, with a ruddy face and a sonorous voice.
    'You could have told me you were police,' he said.
    'I live in this building. I was the one who called in the alarm.'
    Wallander told him what had happened with Hålén.
    'Too many people are dying,' Faråker said firmly. Wallander was not completely sure how to take this unexpected comment.
    'So this means that the apartment was empty,' Wallander said.
    'It appears to have been started in the entrance hall,' Faråker said.
'I'll be damned if it wasn't arson.'
    Wallander looked quizzically at him.
    'How can you know that already?'
    'You learn a thing or two as the years go by,' Faråker said at the same time that he handed out some instructions.
    'You will do this too one day,' he continued and started stuffing an old pipe with tobacco.
    'If this is arson, the crime division will have to be called in, won't it?' Wallander said.
    'They're already on their way.'
    Wallander joined some colleagues and helped them keep curious onlookers at bay.
    'The second one today,' one of the officers said. His name was
Wennström. 'This morning we had a pile of burning timber out near
Limhamn.'
    Wallander wondered briefly if his father had decided to burn the house since he was moving anyway. But he did not pursue this line of thought.
    A car pulled up to the kerb. Wallander saw to his surprise that it was Hemberg. He waved Wallander over.
    'I heard the dispatch,' he said. 'Lundin was supposed to take it, but
I thought I would take over since I recognised the address.'
    'The fire chief thinks it's arson.'
    Hemberg made a face.
    'People believe a hell of a lot of things,' he said. 'I've known Faråker for almost fifteen years. It doesn't matter if it's a burning chimney or car engine. For him everything is a suspected case of arson. Come with me and you may learn something.'
    Wallander followed him.
    'What do you say about this?' Hemberg asked.
    'Arson.'
    Faråker sounded extremely sure. Wallander sensed that there was a deep-seated, mutual antipathy between the two men.
    'The man who lives here is dead. Who would have started a fire in there?'
    'That's your job to find out. I'm just saying it was arson.'
    'Can we go in?'
    Faråker shouted out to one of the firemen, who gave an all-clear signal. The fire was out and the worst of the smoke gone. They went in. The part of the entrance hall by the front door was scorched. But the flames had never reached further than the curtain that divided the hall from the main room. Faråker pointed to the letter box in the door.
    'It might have been started here,' he said. 'Smouldered first, and then caught fire. There aren't any electrical wires or anything else that could catch fire on their own.'
    Hemberg crouched down next to the door. Then he sniffed.
    'It's possible that you're right for once,' he said and stood back up.
'It has a smell. Kerosene, maybe.'
    'If it had been petrol, the fire would have been different.'
    'So someone put it through the letter box?'
    'That's the most likely scenario.'
    Faråker poked the remains of the hall mat with his foot.
    'Hardly paper,' he said. 'More likely a piece of cloth. Or cotton batting.'
    Hemberg shook his head gloomily.
    'Damn people who start fires in the homes of people who are already dead.'
    'Your problem,' Faråker said. 'Not mine.'
    'We'll have to ask forensics to take a look at this.'
    For a moment Hemberg appeared concerned. Then he looked at
Wallander.
    'Any possibility of