Missing

walked in.
    ‘What, are you asleep?’
    ‘Kind of.’
    ‘It’s past eleven o’clock, you know.’
    The machine on the desk made a humming noise, producing a belated printout.
    ‘What’s that?’
    The hairy legs stepped closer. The next second, Patrik’s jeans-clad legs materialised right in front of her nose. He must have grabbed the paper.
    ‘Just some stuff.’
    ‘Stuff, eh? And why are you in bed with your clothes on?’
    ‘I was up, really. I felt like lying down for a bit.’
    ‘Ah. What are you printing?’
    ‘I’ve been surfing a bit. Nothing special.’
    The silence lasted for a few unbearable seconds. ‘Well, I’m going back to bed now. Are you at home today, or what?’
    ‘Maybe. I’m not sure.’
    ‘If you go out, please don’t come back later than ten o’clock. And you must phone to say where you are.’
    She could hear Patrik sighing. The naked male legs walked towards the door and then stopped.
    ‘That’s not your rucksack, is it?’
    Sibylla closed her eyes, while Patrik seemed to take an age replying. Christ, just say something. You’ve found it. Nicked it. Any bloody thing at all.
    ‘It’s Viktor’s.’
    That’s a good one.
    ‘What’s it doing here?’
    ‘He forgot it in school and I promised to look after it.’
    Better still. The legs were walking again.
    ‘See you later. Remember, you must tidy up in here before your Mum comes back.’
    ‘I will.’
    Then the door finally closed behind him and Patrik’s smiling face was peering at her below the edge of the bed.
    ‘Were you scared then?’
    She crawled out. She tried to brush the dust off her front while she hissed at him,
    ‘Can’t you lock the door?’
    He was sitting on the bed studying the piece of paper he had hidden from his Dad. She looked over his shoulder.
    HUNTING A KILLER.
    He seemed thoughtful.
    ‘I know what we’ve got to do.’
    She couldn’t think what to say.
    ‘Think! The police are after you and nobody else. Question: who’s to track down the real murderer?’
    No idea.
    ‘Don’t you see? We’ll have to do it. We’ve got to find the murderer.’

A t first she felt simply angry. So angry that she started towards the door, picking up her rucksack in the passing. She stopped with her hand reaching for the door handle, suddenly uncertain. She didn’t dare step outside yet.
    She put the rucksack down and sighed.
    ‘Patrik, don’t be silly. This isn’t some kind of exciting game.’
    ‘I know. It’s just – well, do you have any better ideas?’
    She turned to face him, but he was picking up the papers she had thrown down. She went to help him and when the papers were stacked in order again, she sat down on the bed.
    ‘What chances do you think we’ve got?’
    He leaned forward, speaking in an eager whisper.
    ‘Sylla, listen. The police are looking for you . No one else. It gives us space. We know that there must be another person who’s the killer.’
    ‘So what can we do? We’ve no information.’
    He looked up and met her eyes.
    ‘Please promise not to be angry.’
    ‘What? I mean, how can I promise?’
    He hesitated. By now she was truly curious about what it was that he thought might make her angry.
    ‘Ah … my Mum’s in the police.’
    She was transfixed. He met her eyes. When the full significance of what he had said dawned on her, her blood seemed to pump faster through her body and she rose.
    ‘I’ve got to get out of here. Check the hall, please.’
    ‘Cool it.’
    ‘ Now . Please, Patrik.’
    She had raised her voice to a dangerous pitch and he obeyed, sighing. After peering outside, he opened the door wide. She got hold of her rucksack and walked swiftly past him.

    ‘Please, Sylla. Please listen!’
    She was walking quickly, but he was only a few steps behind her. When she’d turned the corner and started down Folkunga Street, she hoped she’d lose him. Not one word more from Patrik. ‘My Mum’s in the police.’ Fancy that. He had invited her straight into a hornets’ nest. She stopped abruptly. He was unprepared and crashed straight into her.
    ‘So what do you think would’ve happened if your Mum had come home unexpectedly. Fucking what, exactly?’
    The adrenaline was still rushing through her veins.
    ‘Come off it. She’s on a course!’
    She looked at him, shaking her head. He was too young to understand. Maybe she wasn’t being fair on him.
    ‘Patrik, it’s my life we’re discussing here. Say she’d caught the ’flu or something and