Missing

showed me what he wanted me to do.’
    By now he seemed more relaxed, pausing to drink mouthfuls of coffee and look out through the window. They must have looked quite idyllic – two old friends chatting together over a cuppa.
    ‘The Malta trip was arranged by Leisure Tours, one of these group-travel firms. I didn’t feel like being alone just then. Anyway, there’s a cathedral city on Malta called Mosta and the Lord was guiding me to that sacred place.’

    He had made fists of his hands now.
    ‘You know, that excursion to Mosta changed my life. It was as if someone had pulled filters away from my eyes, allowing me to see the truth clearly for the first time.’
    His face was glowing with gratitude.
    ‘On the ninth of April in the year 1942, the cathedral was full of people, ordinary folk who had gone to Mass the way they always did. It was wartime. Suddenly, a bomb fell through the dome of the cathedral, shattering the splendid glass roof and burying itself in the floor of the aisle in front of the altar. Do you know, that bomb never exploded? God stopped the detonator functioning and the whole congregation completed Mass and left in safety. A true miracle!’
    If he were expecting exclamations of wonder, he’d have to wait in vain.
    ‘It was an English plane. Dropping the bomb was a mistake.’
    His eyes were drilling into her.
    ‘Don’t you see what God was telling them?’
    She shook her head.
    ‘Their time hadn’t come. God had not chosen to call anyone among the people in the church. They weren’t meant to die just then. That’s why He intervened to put the mistake right.’
    He paused, looking at the window for a while.
    ‘Rune was different, the Lord had called him. I still don’t know why. I’m waiting and praying for the Lord to tell me His reason. Maybe He will speak to me once my mission is complete.’
    His confession was nearing its end and Sibylla felt fear returning, invading every part of her mind.
    ‘She wouldn’t let Rune die. She thwarted the will of God. She thought she could interfere with His power on Earth, trading parts of Rune’s body and keeping them alive. It was trapping him halfway to Heaven. How could I allow that to happen?’
    His face looked like a tragic mask. He clasped his hands.
    ‘I will execute great vengeance upon them with wrathful chastisements. Then they will know that I am with the Lord, when I lay my vengeance upon them.’
    In the silence that followed, Sibylla knew her will to act was still paralysed by fear. She needed more time.
    ‘The people you killed – what about them? Had God called them too?’
    He stared at her, his head to one side, apparently amazed by her question.
    ‘What, haven’t you understood that yet?’
    She just looked back at him, not even daring to shake her head.
    ‘The Lord had called them. They were meant to die. By what right do we hinder the acts of the Lord?’

    She had no answer to that, of course. Telling him that he was stark staring mad would not be helpful.
    ‘What about me?’
    He smiled.
    ‘You have been chosen.’
    He made it sound like a compliment.
    ‘The Lord is using you as one of His tools – like me. Both of us have been called to serve His ends.’
    Soon, her time would be up.
    ‘What’s my task?’
    The smile had widened to a grin that spread across his face.
    ‘You’re here to serve as my shield and protection.’

T he next moment she was on her feet, throwing herself unhesitatingly backwards, grabbing the handle of the closed door behind her. Luckily for her it opened inwards and before he could get up and round the table, she was inside the room next door.
    She was leaning her whole body against the door with frenzied strength, ready for him, when seconds later he started pushing at the handle from his side. She could feel his weight against the door. There was no key.
    Looking around, she saw that the room was a painter’s workshop, full of canvases and tubes of paint. There was an easel just behind her with an unfinished picture of the crucified Christ.
    On the wall to her right was another door without a key.
    Suddenly, she sensed that the pressure on the other side was no longer there. A quick glance through the keyhole confirmed it. He was gone.
    She stepped back, hitting the corner of a table and knocking over a tin full of brushes. It crashed to the floor. Terror sent electrical currents through her body.
    A sudden sound alerted her to his presence in the room to her right. He