Patrik went back downstairs to commune with his computer. Meanwhile, she was impatiently pacing the corridor to pass the time.

The donor must have died just before 15 March, 1998. How could they find out who he or she was? Maybe there were lists of donors in that secret world Patrik could access through his computer. If there were, she felt certain he would find it. Everything seemed to be connected by that strange Net of his.

He mustn’t say anything to his mother. She had forbidden him, deciding that she preferred to stay chief suspect for however long it took to find the answer alone. The police might be on the same trail – but why would they be? They knew who the murderer was already.

When Patrik returned, he had no good news to bring. There were no officially available registers of dead individuals, only general mortality statistics. It was not helpful to know that during the year, 93,271 people had died.

‘I’ve checked the sites of the Population Register and the Central Statistical Bureau, but they won’t let you in on the actual lists without permission from the Data Inspection Office.’

He looked so young in his dejection that Sibylla had to smile.

‘You’ve got to be an exceptionally smart fifteen-year-old!’

He turned his head away but she had already noticed how he blushed.

‘Bah.’

They sat in silence for a while. Chasing murderers from hiding places in attics wasn’t easy. Then Sibylla remembered something.

‘I’ve got it. What we need is access to the Donor Register.’

‘What’s that?’

She knew more than he did this time and the feeling made her smile inside, even though her superior knowledge was very recent. She wasn’t as thick as he might have thought, no poor helpless soul he could save by his bravery. Besides, she was twice his age and she wanted him never to forget that simple fact.

She fetched the pile of papers from her armchair, leafing through them until she found what she was looking for.

‘Here, in the documentation from the Health and Welfare Board. Information about donations. Listen to what it says.’

She read aloud.

‘Question: Can relatives have access to information held in the register?

Answer: It is a criminal offence for outsiders to attempt access to the register. The routine precautions are designed to maintain the highest data security. Only a few people are authorised to search the register. Each authorisation refers to one individual, i.e. it is not transferable.’

She flicked the paper out of her hand and let it float away.

‘Ah, well. It seemed a good idea at the time.’

He looked intently at her.

‘How much is it worth to you to find out what the Register says?’

‘A lot.’

‘Several thousand?’

She hesitated for a moment. Several thousand might mean half a bedroom.

‘What’s this about?’

‘I know a guy who might check it out. For a down-payment, a big one.’

‘How do you know people like that?’

‘I don’t, but his brother goes to my school. The kid brother is like royalty after the big guy served time for hacking data.’

This was not easy. However much she wanted the information, she wanted even less to risk having Patrik involved in breaking the law.

‘How old is “the big guy”?’

Patrik shrugged.

‘Don’t know. Like, twenty?’

She thought it over. This was their one chance to move on. They had come so far already. She sighed.

‘You’re on. He gets three thousand for the name.’