Free Missing by Karin Alvtegen

whispering to her companion and both speeded up. Heino had been watching them and, just as they were passing, he rose and leaned towards them.
    ‘Good afternoon, ladies. Would you be wanting a bite?’
    He was holding his half-eaten roll in his hand, politely presenting it to them. They walked past without a word, obviously eager to get out of harm’s way without humiliating themselves by breaking into a run.
    Sibylla was smiling broadly as Heino settled back on the bench.
    ‘Watch out,’ he shouted after them. ‘A rat’s coming after you!’
    The ladies walked very fast all the way to the main stairs of the National Museum, stopping only when they got there to check that no one was pursuing them. They were talking agitatedly. When a police car came driving across Skepp Bridge, the ladies’ body language told Sibylla that they were going to hail the police. Her heart was beating faster.
    ‘Listen, Heino, please do something for me.’
    The police car had pulled in to the kerb now. The two women were talking and pointing towards their bench.
    ‘If the pigs come here, you don’t know me.’
    Heino looked at her. The police car started up.
    ‘Don’t I know you? Sure I do. You’re Sibylla, Queen of Småland.’
    ‘Please, Heino. Not now. Please. You don’t know me.’
    The police car pulled in near their bench. Two uniformed police climbed out, a man and a woman. They left the engine running. Heino stared at them, stuffing the last piece of roll into his mouth.
    ‘Hi, Heino. Did you annoy the ladies over there?’
    Heino turned to look at the ladies. They were still standing at the entrance of the National Museum. Sibylla was peering into her rucksack, hoping to avoid police scrutiny.
    ‘Me? No, I’m just quietly eating my roll.’
    To prove his point he opened his mouth wide, displaying what was in it.

    ‘Just as well. Keep eating, Heino.’
    Heino shut his mouth, muttering crossly to himself.
    ‘Easy for you to say.’
    Then he carried on chewing. Sibylla was taking an intelligent interest in a side-pocket on her rucksack.
    ‘Now, has he been bothering you at all?’
    Sibylla realised the policeman was talking to her. She looked up, rubbing her eyes as if a piece of grit was troubling her.
    ‘Who, me? No, not at all.’
    She opened another side-pocket and started rummaging again.
    ‘I’d never bother queens. Specially not the Queen of Småland,’ Heino said earnestly.
    Sibylla closed her eyes, but kept fiddling with the rucksack. One more side-pocket to investigate.
    ‘I like that, Heino. That’s the ticket.’
    The woman constable was trying to round off their chat. To her relief, Sibylla could hear them both walk away and open the car door. Glancing at them, she saw the male PC still holding the door handle.
    ‘What’s your problem? Why are you spying on honest citizens peacefully eating their stuff? So the old hags are out walking their rat and start making a fuss, taking offence at nothing whatever – is that my fault?’
    ‘Shut up,’ Sibylla hissed.

    Heino was becoming heated. The police stopped in their tracks.
    ‘Let me tell you something you don’t know, right? Like, you might just have been of some use if you’d turned up here on the twenty-third of September, in the year of eighteen hundred and eighty-five.’
    The policeman was approaching now, but the woman stayed in the passenger seat of the car. Sibylla began closing the various compartments of her rucksack. Time to beat it.
    Heino rose, pointing towards the Grand Hotel.
    ‘That’s where she was standing, on the Grand’s balcony.’
    Sibylla stopped to listen.
    ‘Down here it was packed with people, all the way across to the Kung Garden. They were waiting for her to sing.’
    Now Sibylla and the policeman were both staring at him. The policeman was curious.
    ‘Who was singing from the balcony?’
    Heino sighed and shrugged, spreading his dirty palms.
    ‘Don’t you know anything? Christina Nilsson, that’s who. The