Chapter One

The moment Kurt had burst out of the room yelling about his shirt, Magnus knew something was wrong—horribly and terribly wrong.

The post card, the photo—

Not really thinking, Magnus ran after him. The man was a mess and these days he didn't think before acting. His daughter's life was at stake and Magnus wasn't sure he would be able to approach the situation with any small measure of rationality.

Not that he would either, if he were in the same situation.

It wasn't far from Ake's rooms to Kurt's flat, and having been there once or twice before, Magnus was sure he remembered where he lived. As he approached the building, he drew his gun from the holster on his hip, inwardly cursing himself for his trembling fingers. He had never felt completely comfortable with guns, though he knew how to use one. It was part of his police training, but with such strict gun laws there usually wasn't much of a chance to use it.

As he approached the open door, he heard Kurt's desperate voice pleading:

"Why? Why?"

Stepping through the doorway carefully, Magnus lifted his gun and cocked the trigger. He was almost unable to hear what was going on for the sound of his heart pounding in his ears.

"Kali loved you," Ake was saying, the pain and anguish audible in his voice. "And you didn't even see him. I was nothing. He hid me away like something filthy and diseased. But then I made him see me and now you're going to see me Wallander."

Magnus sucked in his breath and held it.

"You're going to see me…for the rest of your life."

He heard Linda's terrified crying and a click of a gun that didn't go off. Then he acted. He could barely remember shouting at Kurt to get down as he turned the corner. He saw a head of blonde curls and then Ake's astonished face. He lifted his gun and fired, hitting Ake once between the eyes, once into his chest. The look of disbelief still etched onto his face, Ake fell dead as Kurt flung himself at his daughter.

Magnus stared at the two of them clutching each other, his gun still held aloft. Then, just for a moment, Linda met his eyes over the shoulder of her father, and Magnus let out the breath he had been holding.

He lowered his gun, the tension gone, but suddenly it was all too much for him to handle. Kurt was looking at him but he was already backing away, and bolting from the flat, he threw up his lunch all over the ground outside.

He was still retching when he felt the soft cool touch of a hand on the back of his neck. Lifting his head, he found himself staring back into the large blue eyes of Linda Wallander. She was wearing green eye shadow, he noticed. It made her eyes look even more brilliant.

"Are you alright?" she asked in a trembling voice.

Flushing in embarrassment, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'm fine," he replied, hating how weak his voice sounded. "I just—"

She nodded, curls bouncing. Her cheeks were streaked with tears and her mouth was pinched around the edges.

Kurt was standing a little ways away with his phone pressed up against his ear talking to the dispatcher. His face was ashen and he was sweating again, but his voice was firm and steady. He looked, a lot more pulled together at this moment than he did, and for a moment Magnus felt like a child again, helpless and afraid.

Shame burned deep within his chest. He wasn't very good at hiding what he felt, it usually showing up on his face in some shade of red, and he didn't want them to see it. Especially her, he realized.

He tried to turn away and found that he couldn't. He looked down to see Linda's slender hand gripping his forearm. He had not realized she had touched him, but now he felt it like a brand cutting through the numbness that had overtaken his body. He lifted his eyes to her face, but she was partially turned away, speaking to her father who was nodding at her, still on the phone. But Magnus didn't hear any of it; all his senses were concentrated on her.

As he stared at her, he realized how much she looked like Kurt: the same mouth; the same blond hair, though Kurt's was mostly grey now—the same large eyes.

It was ridiculous. He had just killed a man, but the only thing he could think of was how much Linda looked like her father. He wanted to laugh, but he was afraid it might come out as a sob.

It was only a few minutes before the ambulance arrived, but it seemed like hours as they stood there together not speaking. When they finally took Ake's body out of the house, Magnus forced himself to watch as they put him in the ambulance.

Finally a paramedic came up asking to look over Linda.

"I'm fine," she said. "I'm not hurt."

Magnus noticed Kurt out of the corner of his eye silently watching them. He had a curious expression on his face Magnus couldn't read.

"Sir—?"

The paramedic was looking at him expectantly.

"I don't need anything," he said, his voice a trifle gruff. "I'm fine."

As the paramedic walked away, Magnus turned to Linda. She was looking at the ambulance, the knuckles of the hand that gripped his arm were white with the pressure she was exerting, and it was clear she wasn't as fine as she said she was.

"Linda?" Magnus said softly. "Linda?"

Her head snapped around, startled, and he was dismayed to see a sudden look of fear in her eyes. It faded as they focused on him, but before he could say anything more, Kurt had approached them looking exhausted and somewhat lost.

"Linda, we're going to a hotel for the time being," he said. "Until I figure out what to do about the flat."

"Right, dad," Linda replied quietly. "Okay."

She let go of Magnus's arm then, and it was all he could do not to reach out and pull it back. Startled at himself, he clamped his fists to his side. Giving him a parting glance, she wandered over to the police car. Kurt looked up at Magnus and said,

"Magnus, I—"

He broke off, but Magnus shook his head, not wanting him to finish. There were no words for what had happened. Hesitatingly, Kurt reached out and squeezed his arm in the exact place Linda had just let go of. It was a kind touch and not one Magnus would have expected from Kurt at all. Kurt went to Linda and Magnus watched them walk away hand in hand, unable to ignore the empty feeling in his heart.

After giving a statement at the station, Magnus went home and fed his cat, which, after six months of living under his roof, still had no name. He had found her, wet and starving outside the grocer last winter, and not knowing what to do, had taken her home. He had thought at one point he would give her away, but she had grown on him. He liked her company.

Once he put down the food, he thought about making something for himself. But he really didn't feel like eating, and after he brushed the taste of sick out of his mouth, he sat down on his couch. He thought about turning on the television, but he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate on it so he left it off and instead stared at the wall.

There were a few black and white photos of the Scandinavian seaside that he had taken back in college that hung there, and his mother's old armchair, something he hadn't been able to get rid of when she passed, sat beneath them, its stuffing spilling out like fluffy snow.

The rest of his furniture was new and barely used. Almost all of it was from Ikea.

As he sat there, his thoughts turned back to the shooting. He replayed the moment he had shot Ake over and over in his head and had an argument with himself over whether or not there had been anything else he could have done.

No, of course there wasn't, you idiot.

But—

What of Linda? Don't you remember how terrified she looked?

Yes, of course.

And Kurt, he had no bullets. Ake would have killed her.

Right.

Do you remember how she held you? How she looked at you?

Yes, he had. Linda and her large blue eyes.

As if sensing his loneliness, the cat jumped up onto his lap, and turning around twice, curled up and started purring. Magnus wasn't sure if it was the warmth of another living creature or because he was exhausted, but closing his eyes, he put his head back and fell asleep.