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Zusatztext “Compelling . . . skillfully plotted and suspenseful. . . . A thriller for the thinking reader.” — Dallas Morning News “Mankell’s novels are a joy.” — USA Today “Absorbing. . . . In the masterly manner of P.D. James! Mankell projects his hero's brooding thoughts onto nature itself.” — The New York Times “Wallander is a loveable gumshoe. . . . He is one of the most credible creations in contemporary crime fiction.” — The Guardian Informationen zum Autor Henning Mankell is the internatinally acclaimed, bestselling author of the Kurt Wallander novels. Mankell's novels have been translated into forty-five languages and have sold more than forty million copies worldwide. He was the first winner of the Ripper Award and also received the Glass Key and the Crime Writers’ Association Golden Dagger, among other awards. His Kurt Wallander mysteries have been adapted into a PBS television series starring Kenneth Branagh. During his life, Mankell divided his time between Sweden and Mozambique, where he was artistic director of the Teatro Avenida in Maputo. He died in 2015. Klappentext The mystery thriller series that inspired the Netflix crime drama Young Wallander.From the dean of Scandinavian noir, comes a riveting installment in the internationally bestselling and universally acclaimed Kurt Wallander series.After killing a man in the line of duty, Kurt Wallander resolves to quit the Ystad police. However, a bizarre case gets under his skin. A lawyer driving home at night stops to investigate an effigy sitting in a chair in the middle of the highway. The lawyer is hit over the head and dies. Within a week the lawyer's son is also killed. These deeply puzzling mysteries compel Wallander to remain on the force. The prime suspect is a powerful corporate mogul with a gleaming smile that Wallander believes hides the evil glee of a killer. Joined by Ann-Britt Hoglund, Wallander begins to uncover the truth, but the same merciless individuals responsible for the murders are now closing in on him. Fog. A silent, stealthy beast of prey. Even though I have lived all my life in SkŒne, where fog is forever closing in and shutting out the world, I’ll never get used to it. 9 p.m., October 11, 1993. Fog came rolling in from the sea. He was driving home to Ystad and had just passed Br?sarp Hills when he found himself in the thick of the white mass. Fear overcame him right away. I’m frightened of fog, he thought. I should be scared of the man I have just been to see at Farnholm Castle instead. The friendly man whose menacing staff always lurk in the background, their faces in the shadows. I should be thinking about him and what I now know is hidden behind that friendly smile. His impeccable standing in the community, above the very least suspicion. He is the one I should be frightened of, not the fog drifting in from Han? Bay. Not now that I have discovered that he would not hesitate to kill anyone who gets in his way. He turned on the wipers to try to clear the windshield. He did not like driving in the dark. He particularly disliked it when rabbits scurried this way and that in the headlights. Once, more than thirty years ago, he had run over a hare. It was on the Tomelilla road, one evening in early spring. He could still remember stamping his foot down on the brake pedal, but then a dull thud against the bodywork. He had stopped and got out. The hare was lying on the road, its back legs kicking. The upper part of its body was paralyzed, but its eyes stared at him. He had had to force himself to find a heavy stone from the verge, and had shut his eyes as he threw it down onto the hare’s head. He had hurried back to the car without looking again at the animal. He had never forgotten those eyes and those wildly kicking legs. The memory kept coming back, again and again...
