Karin Alvtegen - Missing

She looked at him, shaking her head. He was too young to understand. Maybe she wasn't fair on him.

'Patrik, it's my life we're discussing here. Say she'd caught the 'flu or something and returned a day early or whatever. Anything. There I would've been, in her son's bedroom. Was that what you had in mind?'

He took a few steps back. He looked angry.

'Right. Fine. You don't trust me. Why don't you go and get pissed then? That's the best you can do, isn't it?'

Suddenly her anger melted away. He was her only real friend and here she was, ditching him. It was a chilly day and he hadn't had time to fetch a jacket. He was wrapping his arms round his chest to keep warm.

It seemed impossible to think of a way forward. It wasn't as if it hadn't been hard before, but now she felt responsible for this youngster as well. Of course there was no telling what he might do as soon as he got out of sight, but she had only herself to blame. She had dragged him into this mess. She sighed, really deeply this time.

'Go home. Find yourself a thick jacket.'

He looked suspicious.

'Yeah? Why?'

'Simple. You're feeling the cold.'

'Aha. Don't you think I get your cunning plan? Like, when I come back you'll be gone.' 'Then what?' Their eyes met.

He thought of something, pulled his wallet from his jeans and put in the pocket of her anorak. 'Look after it until I come back.'

In seconds he had disappeared round the corner. That was a clever move. The kid was not stupid. He'd do well. She got hold of his wallet, weighing it in her hand.

Then she closed her eyes and couldn't help smiling.

He was still not entirely convinced that she would stay put. ‘I’ll be hanging about just outside, in Bjorn's Garden.' She realised how uncertain he felt. 'Promise, I'll be here.'

She really meant it this time. He nodded and walked off to cross Got Street. She watched him until he'd disappeared out through the doors of the Citizen Place library.

He had returned wearing his jacket. When he saw her, his face broke into a happy smile that would have enchanted any mad killer on the run. She smiled back, listening gravely as he outlined his plan.

First, he would email the police, giving her an alibi for the night of the last murder. She baulked at that and urged him promise not to give away where they had been and – above all – not to reveal who he was. While she was saying all that, she found him looking at her with his how-fucking-stupid-do-you-think-I-am look on his face. Then he pointed out that if he had wanted to let them know who he was, all he needed to do was to mail from his home computer. He had planned to protect his identity by using the library terminal, of course.

So she left him to it and went outside to wait for him in Bjorn's Garden. Citizen Place was full of Saturday afternoon strollers, but there were no familiar faces among the people on the seats round the central square. Thank God.

He joined her barely ten minutes later.

'What did you tell them?'

'I told them that they'd find Sibylla Forsenström sitting on a seat in Citizen Place right now. But not to worry their heads about it 'cause she's innocent.'

For just one fraction of a second, she believed him. Then she inhaled deeply.

'Patrik. That wasn't even a little funny.'

'I didn't think you'd laugh. What I actually said was that I wanted to remain anonymous, but I knew that you were not the killer. One hundred per cent certain.'

A thought struck her.

'So how can you be sure? I could've murdered the rest of them. All you know is that I wasn't out killing people last night.'

'Bah. So you're super dangerous? Who do you think you're kidding?'

She insisted.

'Seriously, though. What if it's me?' He screwed up his eyes thoughtfully. 'And? Are you?'

She waited for a fraction of a second, then she smiled and looked into his eyes.

'No. But look, you're not entirely sure.'

'Of course I am – it's just that you're going on and on about not trusting you.'

He was a little irritated, but so was she. She had no intention of becoming an exciting fantasy figure for him to play games with for a while.

'I simply don't want you to take things for granted.'

He looked mostly bewildered now, clearly not seeing her point. Good, good. It meant that she was still in control, which was how she wanted it.

They sat in silence side by side, thinking and watching the people walking past. No one paid any attention to the odd couple on the bench.

Then two police cars came swooping along at top speed but using only their blue lamps to clear the traffic. The sirens were switched off. Both cars pulled up in front of the library and from each, two constables leapt out and rushed into the building.

Time to go.

Exchanging a glance, they got up and hurried down Tjarhov Street. Then they climbed the slope toward Mosebacke Square and still without speaking, settled down on one of the benches. The sun chose this moment to break through the solid grey cloud that for days had been in place over the city, like a lid. Sibylla leaned back and closed her eyes. Warmth and sunshine. There were countries with lots of it. She could go to one of them and no one would find her there. But no. She had not been allowed to go abroad with her parents when she was a child and now she had no chance of getting a passport.

Then he broke the long silence.

'How about I go to my Mum's job and check out her computer records?' Well, now.

'You mustn't do anything of the sort.' 'No? I'm going to do it anyway.'

I won't let you. You might get bogged down in all this shit and I don't want that.'

I'm bogged down already.'

He sounded rather sharp and what he said was true enough. Still, remembering her own polite teenage self, always anxious to please and as quiet as a clam, she hadn't realised quite how enterprising he would be. She preferred to think that she would never have told him her story if she had known. On the other hand, she could have been wrong. Maybe getting a taste of law-breaking is good for young people.

'Is there any chance of you doing that without being discovered?'

I turn up at the station and ask if she's in. When they tell me she's away, I ask to be allowed to wait in her room.' 'But you know she's on a course.' 'The receptionist doesn't know.'

'What if she does?'

He lost patience with her lack of enthusiasm. 'Christ, I don't know. I'll think of something.'

He was far too nonchalant. Not so good.

'What if they discover you fiddling with the computer?'

'They won't.'

'IF, I said.'

He didn't answer, just slapped his hands against his thighs and got up. 'Let's go.' 'Go where?'

His face showed what he thought about having to explain everything twice.

'My Mum's office, of course!'

She stared at him. Either he was her guardian angel sent to save her, or a demon, who would give her the final shove into the abyss. There was no telling until later.

'Would you mind if I don't tag along when you wheedle your way into police premises?'

He grinned.

'Where do we meet afterwards?'

She hadn 'theard him come. She'd been sitting on the quayside behind the City Hall, watching the hands moving round the clock-face on the Riddarholm Church. After one hour, she began thinking seriously of going away.

She didn't. Half an hour later, a paper was suddenly dangled in front of her nose.

He'd crept up behind her. When she turned she saw pride glowing in his eyes behind the wire-rimmed spectacles.

She started reading. There was a list of individuals, two male and two female names. The first one was Jorgen Grundberg. The police believed that she had killed these four people.

Patrik was leaning over her shoulder.