Five First Dates: Date Two

[ingebjorg9]

Date two, in which all Hell breaks loose.

Wallander shifted from one foot to the other.  She was late and he was getting cold.  Meeting on the seafront was now seeming like less and less of a good idea, especially in Ystad in April, when the weather could be unpredictable to say the least.  He pondered morosely that perhaps he wasn’t the only one with cold feet: she might have changed her mind about coming.

 

Just as he was wondering whether to give up and go home to a nicely warming glass of Scotch he felt a sharp tap on his shoulder.  He spun round to see a small, dark-haired woman gazing eagerly up at him.

“Kurt?” she chirped.

“Yes.  And you’re Agata?”

“That’s right. Let’s get out of here, shall we?”  She seized his arm and led him briskly down the street.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, anywhere, really.”  Agata darted a look round.  “Let’s go in that bar. I need a brandy to warm me up.”  Wallander couldn’t disagree on that.  He let her sweep him into the bar, where they ensconced themselves in a dim but cosy corner.

They ordered a glass of brandy each and talked.  Wallander’s interest was piqued in this small dark woman.  She looked to be in her late 30s and was not the type of woman he would usually pick, but she had intense eyes and numerous mannerisms that he found quite endearing.  She was originally from Växjö and had been a housewife for 12 years before her husband ran off with a younger model and she decided to study for a degree in computing.  Now she ran a web design business from home.

“Impressive,” Wallander remarked.  “I have never understood computers myself.  I have to get one of my colleagues to turn mine on for me.”

She laughed at that, as did he.  He found it ridiculous himself, but you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, can you?

Agata’s laughter stopped abruptly as the door to the bar opened.  She swivelled round to look and seemed visibly relieved when the only person to walk in was an elderly man with a rolled-up newspaper under his arm.

“Is everything okay?” Wallander asked.

“Oh, yes, fine,” she said, just a little too eagerly.  “I startle easily, that’s all.”

They ordered more drinks and Wallander suggested they move closer to the open fire, where it was warm and bright, but Agata insisted she was fine in their little corner.  Wallander shrugged. Perhaps this corner had more atmosphere, but it would be pleasant to sit by a nice glowing fire for a bit.

Just then his phone rang.  He whipped it out of his pocket and saw Stefan’s name on the caller id.

What now, he though impatiently, couldn’t the team cope without him for one day?

“Stefan?” he answered.  “What’s the problem?”

“No problem.  But, er…” Stefan’s voice hesitated on the other end.

“What?  You know it’s my day off.  Whatever it is, can’t you handle it yourself?”

“It’s about those drug deaths.  We’ve tracked down the dealer…”

“Well go and bring him in then!”

“Bring her in,” Stefan corrected.  Something in his tone irked Wallander.

“Or her, then.  You don’t need me for that.”

“No, but I thought you needed to know, because…”

“I don’t need to know.  Just do your job and bring her in.  I’ll see her, and you, tomorrow.”

“But…”

Before Stefan could say any more, Wallander had hung up, switched his phone off and put it back in his pocket.  He felt very irritated.  Stefan knew better than to call him on his day off, unless there was some kind of dire emergency.  He smiled apologetically at Agata.

“I’m sorry about that.  My young colleague usually doesn’t need me to hold his hand for him.”

She smiled indulgently.  He had the feeling that she had secretly enjoyed listening to his side of the exchange.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.  “I know a nice little place round here if you like pizza.”

She said that yes, she was hungry.  Pizza sounded nice.  However, couldn’t they have just one more drink before they went?  Wallander sighed very quietly and ordered her another brandy, while he had orange juice.  He was beginning to wonder if she didn’t have a drinking problem or some such.

It was getting dark by the time they finally left the bar.  Strolling idly down to the restaurant was evidently not an option, as Agata immediately took his arm and began to march him down the street.  He felt himself getting out of breath.

“Hey, what’s the hurry?” he gasped, trying to slow her down.

“Oh, no hurry.  I’m just hungry, that’s all.”

If she was that hungry why did she insist on staying for another drink, he wondered.  It was becoming clear to him that they were never going to make a good couple.  He was thinking over the best way to tell her this when he was startled by a loud voice.

“HOLD IT RIGHT THERE!”

A mob of armed men ran towards them out of the dim evening light.  At first he thought they were going to be robbed, until he recognised the faces of some of the men.  He couldn’t quite believe what was happening.  The men pinned Agata against the wall and frisked her as she screamed blue murder at them.

“Now wait a minute!” Wallander cried, feeling extremely vexed by the scene unfolding before him.

“Sorry Inspector,” said one of the men.  “I’m afraid we’ve got orders to bring her in.”

Bring her in?  Oh no.  No, she couldn’t be…

He was aware of someone standing beside him, and turned to see Stefan.

“This drug dealer is… Agata?” Wallander croaked weakly.

“Yeah,” Stefan admitted. He even looked slightly embarrassed.  “We’ve been watching her all day.  I tried to warn you so you could get out of the way, but you wouldn’t listen to me.”

“No.”  He watched grimly as the armed officers confiscated a gun and a small bag of something that looked suspiciously like heroin.  Sweet mother of mercy, it would be months before he would be able to live this down.

Stefan was looking at him with something resembling pity. It made Wallander want to crawl under a rock and stay there.

“Look, I’m sorry about this, okay?  Better luck next time.”  Wallander acknowledged Stefan’s condolences with a sullen nod.

Oh well, back to the drawing board.  Again.  At least tomorrow’s suspect interviews will be interesting, he thought.