The Man Who Smiled - Wallander 04

by Henning Mankell

  "Was he a good accountant?"

  "He was the best accountant I ever came across."

  "Why so?"

  "He worked quickly but with no loss of accuracy. He was very involved in his work and was always coming up with suggestions as to how we could save money for the council."

  "I've heard it said that he was a particularly honest man " Wallander said.

  "Of course he was," Oscarsson said. "But that's not exactly earth-shattering - accountants are mostly honest. There are exceptions, of course, but they could never survive in an environment such as you get at county offices."

  Wallander thought for a moment before continuing.

  "And out of the blue he committed suicide," he said. "Was that unexpected?"

  "It certainly was unexpected," Oscarsson said.

  Looking back, Wallander was never quite sure what had happened when those words were spoken. There was a slight change of tone in Oscarsson's voice, a faint trace of doubt, perhaps reluctance, that made itself felt in the way he replied. As far as Wallander was concerned, the conversation changed character at that moment, and straightforward question and answer was replaced by alertness.

  "You worked closely with Borman," Wallander said. "You must have known him well. What was he like as a man?"

  "We were never friends. He lived for his work and for his family. He had an integrity that nobody ever questioned. And if anybody came too close, he would withdraw into his shell."

  "Could he have been seriously ill?"

  "That I don't know."

  "You must have thought a good deal about his death."

  "It was a very unpleasant time. It cast a shadow over my final months at work before I retired."

  "Can you tell me about his last day at work?"

  "He died on a Sunday, so the last time I saw him was on the Friday afternoon. There was a meeting of the financial heads of the County Council. It was quite a lively meeting, unfortunately."

  "In what way?"

  "There were arguments about how a particular problem ought to be resolved."

  "Which problem was that?"

  Oscarsson looked hard at Wallander. "I'm not sure I ought to answer that question," he said. "Why not?"

  "In the first place I'm retired now. And also there are laws regarding those aspects of public administration that are confidential."

  "We have a right-of-access principle in Sweden," Wallander said.

  "But that doesn't apply to specific cases which for various reasons are deemed unsuitable to be made public."

  "On the last day Borman was at work, he was at a meeting with the finance heads of the County Council," he said. "Is that right?"

  Oscarsson nodded.

  "And at that meeting a problem was discussed, sometimes heatedly, which was later designated unsuitable, et cetera. In other words, the minutes of that meeting are locked away somewhere. Correct?"

  "No, not correct," Oscarsson said. "There were no minutes."

  "In which case it can't have been an official meeting," Wallander said. "If it had been, minutes would have to have been taken and kept, and in due course submitted for approval and signed."

  "It was a confidential discussion," Oscarsson said. "But it's all water under the bridge now, and I don't think I'm going to answer any more questions. My memory isn't what it was. I've forgotten what happened."

  Wallander thought, Oscarsson has forgotten nothing. What was it they were discussing that Friday?

  "I can't oblige you to answer my questions, of course," Wallander said. "But I can resort to a public prosecutor who can. Or I can go to the Executive Committee of the County Council. I can do all sorts of things to find out what the problem was, it's just that it would take time and I don't have that luxury."

  "I'm not going to answer any more questions," Oscarsson said, getting to his feet.

  Wallander remained seated. "Sit down," he said firmly. "I have a suggestion."

  Oscarsson hesitated, but then sat down again.

  "Let's do what you did that Friday afternoon," Wallander said. "I'm not going to make any notes. Let's call this a confidential conversation. There are no witnesses to say that it ever took place. I can give you my word that I shall never refer to you, irrespective of what you're going to say."

  Oscarsson thought over the proposal. "Rundstedt knows you've come to see me."

  "He doesn't know what about," Wallander said.

  He waited while Oscarsson struggled with his conscience. But he knew what would happen. Oscarsson was a wise old bird.

  "I'll go along with your suggestion," he said eventually, "but I don't guarantee to be able to answer all your questions."

  "Be able to or be willing to?"

  "That's a matter for me and me alone," Oscarsson said.

  Wallander nodded. They had a deal.

  "The problem," Wallander said. "What was it?"

  "Malmöhus County Council had been swindled," Oscarsson said.

  "We didn't know at the time how much money was involved, but we do now."

  "How much?"

  "Four million kronor. Of taxpayers' money." "What had happened?"

  "So that it makes sense, I'll start by sketching in how a county council works," Oscarsson said. "Our annual turnover runs to several million, handled by a variety of departments and activities. Financial supervision is centralised and computerised. Safety devices are built in at various levels to protect against embezzlement and other illegal practices. There are even precautions checking what the top executives do, but I don't need to go into detail about them in this case. What it's important to understand, though, is that there is a constant, continuous audit of all payments. Anyone who wants to defraud a county council is going to have to be very familiar with methods of juggling sums of money between accounts. Anyway, that's the background in brief."

  "I think I understand," Wallander said.

  "What happened made it clear that our precautions were inadequate," Oscarsson said. "They've been radically altered since then. A similar fraud wouldn't be possible now."

  "Take your time," Wallander said. "I'd like to have as much detail as possible about what happened."

  "There are things we still don't know," Oscarsson said. "But what we do know is this: as you may be aware, the whole of the administration of public services in Sweden has undergone far-reaching change in recent years. In many ways you could say it's undergone an operation without quite enough anaesthetic. Those of us civil servants from the older generation especially have found it hard to cope with the enormous changes. The reforms are still not finished, and it will be some time before we can make a judgment on all the consequences. The bottom line is that public authorities should be managed in the same way as business enterprises, taking market forces and competition into account. Some public authorities have been turned into limited companies, and others have been sent out to tender from the private sector. All of them have had to satisfy increased demands for efficiency. One of the outcomes, as far as we were concerned, was that a company had to be formed in order to handle all the purchases made by the council. Having the County Council as a customer is one of the best things that can happen to a private enterprise, whether it's lawnmowers or washing powder they're manufacturing or selling. In connection with the formation of that company we hired a firm of consultants with a wide-ranging mandate, one item being to evaluate the applications for the newly established top executive posts that had been advertised. And that is where the fraud took place."

  "What is the name of the firm of consultants?"

  "They're called STRUFAB. I can't remember what the acronym stands for."

  "Who was behind the firm?"

  "It belonged to a division of the investment company Smeden, which is a listed company."

  "Is there one principal owner?"

  "As far as I know, both Volvo and Skanska had large shareholdings in Smeden at that time. It might be different now, though."

  "We can come back to that," W
allander said. "Let's get back to the fraud. What happened?"

  "We had a series of meetings in late summer and early autumn to put the finishing touches to the formation of the company. The consultants were very efficient and our lawyers gave them full marks, as did the financial supremos at the County Council. We even went so far as to propose that STRUFAB should be given a long-term contract by the council."

  "Who were the individual consultants?"

  "Egil Holmberg and Stefan Fjällsjö. On a few occasions a third one was there as well, but I'm afraid I've forgotten his name." "And all of these people turned out to be swindlers?" Oscarsson's reply surprised him.

  "I don't know," he said. "The fraud was carried out in such a way that, in the end, it wasn't possible to put a finger on any one individual. Nobody was guilty. But the money had disappeared."

  "That sounds pretty odd," Wallander said. "What actually happened?"

  "We have to go back to the afternoon of Friday, August 14, 1992,"

  Oscarsson said. "That's when the scam was set up, and carried out in a very short space of time. As far as we could determine with hindsight, it was all very carefully planned. We met the consultants in a conference room at the Finance Unit. We started at 1 p.m. and thought we'd be finished by 5.00. When the meeting started, Holmberg announced that he had to leave at 4.00, but that need have no effect on the meeting. At 1.55 the Finance Director's secretary came in to announce that there was an important phone call for Fjällsjö. I think it was said to be from the Ministry of Technology. Fjällsjö apologised and went out with the secretary in order to take the call in her office. She explained later that she intended to leave the room so that Fjällsjö could take the call in private and he told her that the call would last for at least ten minutes. What happened next we can't be absolutely sure, but we are clear on the outline. Fjällsjö laid the receiver on his desk - we don't know where the call came from, except that it wasn't from the Ministry of Technology. He then went from the secretary's office through the connecting door to the Finance Director's office, and authorised the transfer of four million kronor to a business account at Handelsbanken in Stockholm. It was described specifically as a consultancy fee. No counter-signature was required, so there was no problem. The authorisation referred to a contract number with the non-existent consultancy firm, which I seem to remember was called Sisyphus. Fjällsjö confirmed the transfer in writing, forging the signature of the Finance Director and using the appropriate form. Then he keyed his authorisation into the computer. He put the hard copy in the internal mail, then went back to the secretary's office, went on talking to whoever it was at the other end of the line, and hung up when the secretary returned. That was the end of the first stage of the fraud. Fjällsjö returned to the conference room. Less than a quarter of an hour had passed."

  Wallander was listening intently. Because he was not making notes, he was fearful of forgetting details.

  Oscarsson continued: "Just before 4.00 Holmberg made his apologies and left. We realised afterwards that he didn't leave the building, but went down to the next floor where the Chief Clerk had his office. I should perhaps mention that it was empty, because the Chief Clerk was attending our meeting. He didn't usually do so, but on this occasion the consultants had specifically asked for him to be present. In other words, the whole thing was meticulously prepared. Holmberg hacked into his computer, entered the invented contract number, and inserted an authorisation for a payment of four million kronor backdated a week. He phoned the Handelsbanken head office in Stockholm and requested payment. And then he sat back and waited calmly for the response. Ten minutes later Handelsbanken rang back to check. He took the call and confirmed the transaction. There was only one thing left to do: he called the County Council's own bank and authorised the payment, and then left the premises. Early the following Monday morning, somebody collected the money from Handelsbanken in Stockholm. The person was authorised by Sisyphus to sign on behalf of the company, and claimed to be called Rickard Eden. We have reason to believe that it was Fjällsjö who collected the money, using this alias. It was about a week before the fraud was discovered. The police were called in, and it did not take long to work out what must have happened. But there was no proof, naturally. Needless to say, Fjällsjö and Holmberg were vociferous in denying all knowledge. We severed all links with the consultancy firm, but we were unable to get any further. In the end, the Public Prosecutor wrote the whole thing off and we managed to hush it up. Everybody agreed that was what we had to do - apart from one person." "Borman?"

  Oscarsson nodded slowly. "He was most upset. We all were, of course, but Borman took it hardest. He seemed to take it personally because we weren't prepared to force the Public Prosecutor and the police to follow the case up. I suppose he took it so badly because he thought we'd failed in our duty."

  "Did he take it badly enough to commit suicide?"

  "I believe so."

  Some progress, Wallander thought. But where does the firm of solicitors in Ystad fit in? They must be involved, in view of Borman's letters.

  "Do you know what Holmberg and Fjällsjö are doing now?"

  "Their consultancy firm changed its name. That's all I know. We warned county councils the length and breadth of the country about them, discreetly to be sure."

  "You said that the consultancy firm was part of a bigger concern, an investment company. But you didn't know who owned it. Who was chairman of the board of Smeden?"

  "From what I've read in the newspapers, Smeden has been transformed during the last year or so. It's been split up, several sectors have been sold off, and new elements have been acquired. It might not be going too far to say that Smeden has quite a poor reputation. Volvo have sold their shares. I forget who bought them. But somebody at the Stock Exchange could tell you."

  "You've been a great help," Wallander said.

  "You won't forget our agreement?"

  "I never forget anything," Wallander said. "But tell me, did it ever occur to you that Borman might have been murdered?"

  Oscarsson stared at him in evident unease.

  "No," he said. "Never. Why on earth should I have thought that?"

  "I was only asking," Wallander said. "Many thanks for your help. I might need to be in touch again."

  Oscarsson stood on the steps, watching him leave. Wallander was now so exhausted he wanted nothing more than to lie down in the car and go to sleep, but he forced himself to think ahead. The natural thing would have been to return to Hoor, call Thomas Rundstedt out from his budget conference and ask him some quite different questions.

  He set off for Malmö while allowing a decision to mature in his mind, then he stopped on the hard shoulder and called the Malmö police. He asked for Roslund, gave his name, and said he had an urgent matter to discuss. It took the operator less than a minute to find Roslund.

  "It's Wallander here, from Ystad," he said. "We met last night." "I haven't forgotten," Roslund said. "They told me you had something urgent to discuss."

  "I'm in Malmö," Wallander said. "I'd like to ask you a favour." "I'm listening."

  "About a year ago, at the beginning of September, the first or second Sunday in the month, a man called Lars Borman hanged himself in a clearing in the woods at Klagshamn. There must be a call-out report, and some notes about death by unnatural causes, and a post-mortem report. I'd be very grateful if you could dig them out for me. If at all possible I'd like to get in touch with one of the officers who answered the call and took the body down. Do you think this might be possible?"

  "What was the name again?"

  Wallander spelled it out.

  "I don't know how many suicides we get per year," Roslund said. "I don't recall this one. But I'll look for the documents and see if one of the officers called out is in today."

  Wallander gave him his mobile number.

  "I'll drive to Klagshamn in the meantime," he said.

  It was 2.00. He tried in vain to shake off his exhaustion, but was forced t
o give in and turned off on to a road that he knew led to an old quarry. He switched off the engine and pulled his jacket tightly around him. A minute later he was asleep.

  He woke up with a start. He was freezing cold and didn't know where he was at first. Something had strayed into his consciousness, something he had dreamed, but he couldn't remember what it was. A feeling of depression gripped him when he looked around at the grey landscape on every side. It was 2.35, so he had been asleep for half an hour. He felt as if he had been roused from a long period of unconsciousness.

  That is about as close as one can get to the greatest loneliness of all, he thought. Being all alone in the world. The final human being, forgotten about.

  He was roused from his thoughts by the phone ringing. It was Roslund.

  "You sound half asleep," he said. "Have you been having a snooze in the car?"

  "Not at all," Wallander said. "I have a bit of a cold."

  "I've found the stuff you asked for," Roslund said. "I have the papers here on my desk. I also have the name of the police officer: Magnus Staffansson. He was in the car that was called out when a jogger found a body hanging from a birch tree. No doubt he can explain how a man can hang himself in a birch, of all trees. Where would you like to meet him?"

  Wallander could feel his exhaustion slipping away. "At the slip road for Klagshamnhe said.

  "He'll be there in a quarter of an hour," Roslund said. "By the way, I spoke to Sven Nyberg a few minutes ago. He hasn't found anything in your car."

  "I'm not surprised," Wallander said.

  "You won't have to see the wreck when you drive back home," Roslund said. "We've just arranged for it to be taken away." "Thanks for your help."