Some years ago I met the Swedish crime writer Henning Mankell at the Savoy Hotel in London, where he was staying. A waitress came up to our table. ‘I think, Belinda,’ Mankell said to her suavely, ‘that I would like a glass or two of your red wine!’ Momentarily confused, Belinda asked Mankell to repeat his order.
Ian Thomson
Wave goodbye to the weight-gaining, drunk-driving Inspector Wallander
A review of An event in Autumn, by Henning Mankell. The detective's become more famous than the creator, so the creator's killing him off
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