Missing

the gate of small red house on a sharp right-hand bend. The meter had clicked on to two hundred and sixty kronor. Sibylla swallowed and produced another note from her purse. Patrik glared at her but she avoided his eyes.
    ‘We’ll get off here.’
    The taxi pulled in as far as possible on the narrow road. She paid but did not tip, so he made no move to help her lift her rucksack from the boot. The taxi turned at a meeting-place a bit further along and disappeared in the direction of town. It struck her that they hadn’t planned the return journey. She sighed and heaved the rucksack onto her back.
    The gate was open and the gap was wide enough to let a car through. There was a green tin letterbox with a name-tag. STRÖMBERG.
    She turned towards Patrik.
    ‘This is it. The cottage is by the water’s edge.’
    ‘Yeah.’
    He sounded indifferent.
    ‘How long are you going to sulk for?’
    He didn’t answer but walked along with her. The path leading to the house ran sharply downwards but after a short walk they could see the roof of a house. The rest of it was hidden behind tall shrubbery. Sibylla walked on, followed by Patrik. Once they got round the shrubbery the lake spread out in front of them. A jetty ran out into the water.
    The view was stunningly beautiful. How could anyone be murdered in such a place as this?
    ‘Are you looking for someone?’
    Sibylla turned quickly. A woman was standing above them on the slope, next to a veranda on the lake side of the house. She had to think of something to say, because it was obvious that she was on her own now. Patrik was drifting off in the general direction of the jetty.
    The woman, who could have been in her mid-sixties, had been tidying the lawn but she put the rake away. She was limping a little as she took a few steps to meet Sibylla. They met in silence and Sibylla could feel a pulse beating at her temple. What next?
    ‘Have you come to look at the cottage? I’m afraid the estate agent didn’t say.’
    Of course! They were prospective buyers. Sibylla smiled gratefully.
    ‘Yes, we are. If you don’t mind?’
    The woman smiled in response.
    ‘I see. I’m sorry if I sounded a little cross, but … you see, lots of people came here just because they’re … curious. Anyway, lucky I was here.’
    She cleared her throat, pulled off her gardening gloves and held out her hand.
    ‘Pleased to meet you. My name is Strömberg. Gunvor Strömberg.’
    Sibylla took a fraction too long to answer.
    ‘Sorry we were unexpected. I’m Margareta Lundgren.’
    They shook hands. Gunvor Strömberg’s hand was warm and a little damp after wearing the glove.
    ‘Is that your son?’
    They both looked towards Patrik’s back. Sibylla laughed nervously.
    ‘Absolutely. Yes.’
    Patrik was throwing stones into the water. Sibylla’s heart was beating too fast. He was so demonstratively unhelpful. How upset was he? Would he actually try to punish her?
    ‘The jetty doesn’t come with the house, but we do have the right of use. That’s in the deeds. Actually, we use it more than anybody else.’
    She fell silent, looking out over the water. Then she pulled herself together.
    ‘I suppose you’d like to start indoors?’
    Sibylla smiled.
    ‘Please. Thank you.’
    ‘What about the young man?’
    Patrik was still throwing stones.
    ‘Patrik, come along! We’re going to look at the cottage.’
    He didn’t come at first. After throwing another stone, he started ambling back up from the jetty. Gunvor Strömberg smiled at Sibylla.
    ‘Oh dear, it’s such a difficult age, isn’t it? I always felt that all you could do was let them get on with life on their own.’
    Sibylla tried a smile of complicity. Damn his special age, whatever it was, she’d tell him a thing or two as soon as they were on their own.
    Gunvor was walking ahead towards the house while Sibylla waited until Patrik joined her. When he was at whispering distance, she hissed at him.
    ‘Get your fucking act together! She thinks we want to buy the place.’
    He raised his eyebrows.
    ‘Why don’t you? You’ve got plenty stashed away, seemingly.’
    He passed her on the path. This was the second time in one week that her money had angered and disappointed someone. Why did they take it out on her?
    Gunvor was waiting for them and Sibylla hurried along. Meanwhile Patrik had introduced himself politely.
    ‘Why don’t you have a look around on your own? I’ll be out here if you want me.’
    After exchanging a