Unspoken

Don’t you think that you share some of the blame? I didn’t force you into this, did I? You wanted to meet, too.”
    “All you can think about is yourself because you don’t have to take anyone else into consideration. But I do. So leave me alone,” she said, and slammed down the phone.
    He noted that this was the second time she had done that recently.
    That afternoon the real job got started of mapping out Fanny Jansson’s activities during the past few days before she disappeared. The search was carried out on a wide front. The police interviewed everyone who worked at the stable, as well as the few relatives that she had. They visited her school to talk to her classmates and teachers. Their image of Fanny became clearer.
    She appeared to be a solitary girl who would turn fifteen on Christmas Eve. Her classmates didn’t think she was interested in being friends with any of them. When they started school together, some of them had tried to get her to join in various activities, but she always declined, and finally they gave up. She always seemed to be in a hurry to get home after school, until she started going to the stable, and then she was in a hurry to go there. No one really had much to say about her. They thought she was probably nice enough, but she never took the initiative to make contact with any of them, and that’s why she had ended up alone. She only had herself to blame. She didn’t seem to care, and that was also a bit irksome. Nothing seemed to bother her.
    The teachers described her as quiet but smart—although lately something had changed. She seemed distracted for no obvious reason, and she had become even more withdrawn. At the same time, it wasn’t easy to figure out kids her age. There were so many emotions at play; new patterns emerged, they started talking back, made friends and then dropped them; the boys started using snuff, the girls began wearing makeup and padding their bras, and the hormones practically gushed out of the kids. Irritability and aggression were common, and it wasn’t always easy to keep up with all the mood swings or how a particular student was developing.
    Her relatives didn’t have much to say, either. They seldom saw Fanny. Her mother drank and had an unpredictable temperament, which prevented any sort of normal socializing. Of course they realized that it must be a difficult situation for Fanny, but that didn’t mean that they wanted to get involved. They had enough problems of their own, they said dismissively.
    Adult responsibility , thought Knutas. There is something called normal, decent adult responsibility. Isn’t there any sort of collective feeling among people anymore? Nobody is prepared to deal with a child who goes astray, not even within their own family .
    The neighbors all had the same impression of Fanny: a solitary, modest girl who seemed to carry a heavy responsibility at home. It was commonly known that her mother had a drinking problem.
    The last person to see Fanny before she disappeared was a man at the stable. His name was Jan Olsson. According to him, she arrived at the stable around four, as usual, and worked with the horses. She was given permission to take one of them out for a ride. She was gone for about an hour and was elated when she returned. She didn’t get to go out riding very often, so she was thrilled whenever she had the opportunity. Both she and the horse were sweaty, and Jan Olsson said that he suspected she had galloped harder than she really should have. But he didn’t say anything because he felt sorry for the girl and thought she deserved to have a little fun.
    When he was taking a cigarette break outside on the stable hill, he saw her pedaling off in the dark, heading toward home. After that there was no trace of the girl.
    Knutas decided to go out to the racetrack to meet in person both the trainer who owned the stable and Jan Olsson. By now it was past seven o’clock, and when Knutas called the stable, everyone had left. He tried their home numbers, but no one answered. He would have to wait until first thing in the morning.

WEDNESDAY, NOVEMBER 28
    The trotting track was located about half a mile from the center of town. When Knutas and Jacobsson drove up the stable hill, they came within a hair’s breadth of colliding with a sulky. The huge gelding snorted and swerved to the side. The driver’s admonishing words calmed the horse. Knutas got out of the car and inhaled the smell of horse and manure.