Missing

blue lamps to clear the traffic. The sirens were switched off. Both cars pulled up in front of the library and, from each car, two constables leapt out and rushed into the building.
    Time to go.
    Exchanging a glance, they got up and hurried down Tjärhov 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 office 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 while you wheedle your way into police premises?’
    He grinned.
    ‘Where do we meet afterwards?’

S he hadn’t heard 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 to think seriously about 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 Jörgen Grundberg. The police believed that she had killed these four people.
    Patrik was leaning over her shoulder.
    ‘Look, it’s all the murdered people, complete with addresses and ID numbers. Last night’s victim lived in Stocksund, that’s in Stockholm – isn’t it?’
    She nodded. Bang went her alibi. She could easily have travelled to Stocksund and back while Patrik was asleep in the school attic. Not that the thought seemed to have occurred to him yet. He was still delighted by how clever he had been.
    She looked out over the Riddar Firth, where the sun was making the little waves glitter. A couple of ducks floated past.
    ‘Hmmm. Now what?
    He pulled some folded pieces of paper from his pocket.
    ‘I printed out a few things I found.’
    ‘Did anybody see you?’
    ‘No. I didn’t use Mum’s PC after all, because Kevin next door had gone for a crap and left his logged on.’
    Sibylla shook her head.
    ‘You’re crazy.’
    He beamed at her.
    ‘Kevin was away for ages. By the way, I don’t think either of them – that’s Kevin and my Mum – is working on this case. But there was some general info in the mailbox.’
    He showed her the first sheet.
    ‘Look, this is what the murderer is leaving behind at each site.’
    It was a black and white picture of a crucifix made of dark wood with the