Vanished by Liza Marklund Page B

front of them, keyboards sang, clickety clack, clickety clack, mice chased across screens, nibbling, copying, changing, deleting. Jansson was on the phone, hammering frantically at his keyboard. She dropped her things on the floor by the night-desk and went out to the toilets, where she ran warm water over her wrists. She felt frozen to the core.
    She closed her eyes and saw the man in front of her, the handsome man in black with his hand inside his jacket, the murderer. She couldn’t remember what she had said, what he had said, just her own awkward confusion and paralysing fear.
    Why me?
she thought.
Why is it always me?
    She dried her hands, looking at her miserable face in the mirror.
    Grandma
, she thought.
I can go and see Grandma tomorrow, sleep, relax, live
.
    A vague sense of calm coursed through her hands, her body. The tightness in her chest eased slightly.
    Paradise
, she thought.
Maybe I should try to get to grips with the Paradise Foundation anyway. Perhaps I won’t spend all my days off down in Lyckebo after all, perhaps I could do a bit of writing
.
    She smiled to herself. The tip-off about the foundation might actually be a turning point. She would have to do some serious research, really work at it. Schyman would …
    She suddenly felt extremely cold, and her chest felt tight again.
    Schyman! What if he was right? What if Rebecka was bluffing, lying, making things up? She put her hand to her mouth and gasped. Damn. Aida from Bijeljina. She had already referred someone to Paradise …
    The chill spread through her body.
    Oh God, how could she have done something so stupid? Recommending an organization that she knew nothing about?
    She went into one of the cubicles and sat down on the toilet, giddy and weak. Was there no end to her stupidity?
    She took several deep breaths and tried to pull herself together.
    What have I actually done? What choice did Aida Begovic have? If I hadn’t been there, Aida would already be dead
.
    She went back to the basin and drank some water from the tap, then looked up at her flushed face in the mirror.
    On the other hand, how could she be sure of that? Maybe Aida was lying as well – she could simply be mad. Maybe she spent her time cycling from Huddinge to Stockholm until she was exhausted, with no money to get home again. Maybe the handsome man in black was her brother, and just wanted to get her home to her family?
    She shut her eyes again and leaned her head against the tiles, taking more deep breaths.
    No one need ever know. No one would ever find out what she’d done. Aida was right. They would never meet again. If Paradise actually worked, she would disappear, for ever.
    If it didn’t, she would die.
    There was one way to find out if Aida knew what she was talking about. Annika went back to her desk and dialled Q’s number.
    ‘I really don’t have time for this tonight,’ her police source said.
    ‘Have you found the lorry?’ she asked quickly.
    A long, surprised silence.
    ‘I know you’re looking for it,’ she said.
    ‘How the hell do you know about the lorry?’ he asked. ‘We’ve only just been told that it’s missing. We haven’t even put out an alert.’
    She breathed out. Aida hadn’t been lying.
    ‘I have my sources,’ she said.
    ‘You’re getting more and more unreal,’ Q said. ‘Have you got second sight?’
    She couldn’t help laughing, a little too loudly.
    ‘Seriously, though,’ Q said, ‘this isn’t a game. Be careful who you talk to about this.’
    Her laughter caught in her throat.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Anyone who knows about the missing lorry is in danger, including your source.’
    She shut her eyes and gulped.
    ‘I know.’
    ‘Know what?’
    ‘What do you know?’
    He sighed quietly.
    ‘This is a long way from over,’ he said.
    ‘There are going to be more murders,’ Annika said in a low voice.
    ‘We’re trying to put a stop to it, but we’re way behind them,’ Q said.
    ‘How much of this can I