Studio Sex aka Studio 69 / Exposed

A pile of magazines was next to the bed. Patricia bent down and leafed through the top one. Woman's Weekly, Jossie's favorite. She didn't like it much; there was too much about makeup, weight loss, and sex. Patricia always felt stupid and ugly after reading it, as if she weren't quite good enough. She knew that this was the whole idea of the magazine. On the face of it, they were helping young girls feel better about themselves but were in fact just making them feel inadequate.

She picked up the next magazine in the pile. It was smaller and Patricia had never come across it before. The paper was of poor quality and so was the print. It opened at the center spread. Patricia realized she was looking at two men with their penises inside a woman, one in her anus, the other in her vagina. You could just make out the woman's face in the background. She was screaming as if she were suffering. The image hit Patricia in the groin like an electric shock. She recoiled, disgusted, partly by the picture and partly by her own reaction to it. She threw the magazine on the floor as if it burned her fingers. Josefin didn't look at stuff like that. Patricia knew it was Joachim's.

She lay back down, staring at the ceiling and trying to repress her shameful excitement. It slowly faded. Was she never going to get used to it?

Her gaze traveled around the room. The door to the walk-in closet was open, Josefin's clothes hanging untidily on their hangers. Patricia knew this was the work of the police officers. Jossie was particular about her clothes.

I wonder what will become of them now? she thought. Maybe I could have some of them.

She got up and walked over to the closet. She ran her hand over the garments. They were expensive; Joachim had bought most of them. Patricia wouldn't be able to wear the dresses- they'd be too loose across the chest. But the skirts, and perhaps some of the suits…

The jingling of keys in the front door made her start. She quickly closed the closet and flew across the wooden floor in her bare feet. She had just closed the door to Josefin's room when Joachim stepped inside the hall.

'What are you doing?' He was sweating at the hairline and had dark patches on his shirt.

Patricia looked at the man, pulse racing in her veins and mouth completely dry. She tried to smile. 'Nothing,' she said nervously.

'Stay the fuck out of Josefin's bedroom. We've told you enough times.' He slammed the front door shut.

'The cops. The fucking cops have made a mess everywhere, in here too.'

He swallowed the bait. 'Fucking cops.' Patricia sensed a catch in his voice. 'Did they take anything?'

He walked toward Patricia, who stood in front of Jossie's bedroom. 'I don't know. Not from me, anyway.'

He threw the bedroom door open and walked over to the bed, lifting the cover. 'The sheet. They've taken the bedclothes.'

Watchful, Patricia remained in the doorway. He walked round the room, seemingly checking to see everything was accounted for. He sat down heavily on the bed with his back to the door, leaning his head in his hands. Patricia breathed in the dust, too scared to move. She looked at his broad shoulders and strong arms. The light from the window made his hair glow. He really was good-looking. Josefin had been the happiest girl in the world when they became a couple. Patricia remembered her tears of joy and accounts of how wonderful he was. As if she were delirious.

Joachim turned round and looked at her. 'Who do you think did it?' he said quietly.

Patricia's face was expressionless. 'Some madman,' she said calmly and firmly. 'Some drunk on his way home. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time.'

He turned away again. 'Could it have been one of the customers?' he asked without looking up.

Patricia carefully weighed her answer. 'One of the big shots from last night, you mean? I don't know. What do you think?'

'It would be the end of the club.'

She looked down at her hands, twiddling with the hem of the T-shirt. 'I miss her already.'

Joachim stood and came up to her, putting his hand on her shoulder and stroking her arm.

'Patricia,' he said guardedly. 'I understand how sad you must be. I'm just as sad myself.'

It made her skin crawl and she had to brace herself not to recoil from his touch.

'I hope the police catch him,' she said.

Joachim pulled her close, a sob shaking his big body. 'Shit, shit,' he said in a stifled voice. 'She's dead.'

He began to cry. Patricia gingerly put her arms on his back, rocking him slightly.

'My Jossie, my angel!'

He cried, sobbing and blubbering. She closed her eyes and forced herself to stay where she was.

'Poor Joachim,' she whispered. 'Poor you…'

He let go of her and went to the bathroom. She could hear him blowing his nose and urinating. Embarrassed, she waited in the hall, listening to the stream of piss and then the flushing water.

'Did the police talk to you?' he asked when he came out.

She swallowed. 'A bit, yesterday. They want to talk to me again today.'

He studied her closely. 'That's good. The scumbag has to be locked up. What are you going to tell them?'

She turned away and walked out into the kitchen and poured a glass of water.

'Depends on what they ask me. I don't really know anything,' she said, and drank from the glass.

He followed her and stopped in the doorway, leaning against the door frame. 'They're going to ask you what Jossie was like and stuff. How she was…'

Patricia placed the glass on the counter with a bang and looked Joachim in the eye. 'I'll never say anything that would be bad for Jossie,' she said assertively.

He looked happy with that. 'Come with me,' he said, placing his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her along through the hallway, into Josefin's bedroom and over to her closet.

'Have a look at these,' he said, rifling through Jossie's expensive suits with his free hand. 'Do you want any of these? This one, maybe?'

He took out a bright pink, silk-and-wool, fitted suit with large gold buttons that Josefin had adored. She thought she looked like Princess Diana in it.

Patricia felt tears well up in her eyes. She swallowed. 'Joachim, I couldn't…'

'Go on, take it. It's yours.'

She started crying. He let go of her and held up the suit in front of her.

'Your tits are a bit small, but maybe we could see to that.' He smiled at her.

Patricia stopped crying, looked down, and let him put the hanger in her hand. 'Thanks,' she whispered.

'You could wear it to the funeral.'

She heard him go out into the kitchen and get something from the fridge. Then he left the apartment.

Patricia remained standing in Josefin's overheated bedroom, frozen to the spot. She chased away a thought she had about being safe there. Patricia had nowhere else to go.

***

The Rival had talked to the father. He didn't say anything interesting, only that he couldn't believe that she was gone. But they had got a quote…

'You never know which way the wind's going to blow,' Berit said. 'If they're unlucky, they'll have a big discussion about media ethics on their hands.'

'For approaching the family?' Annika asked, and skimmed through the story.

Berit nodded and took a sip from a can of mineral water. 'You've got to be extremely careful when you do that. Some people want to talk, but many don't. You mustn't ever trick anyone into talking to you. Did you call her parents?'

Annika folded up the paper and shook her head. 'I couldn't bring myself to do it. It didn't seem right.'

'That's not a very good guiding principle,' Berit said seriously. 'Just because it's unpleasant for you, it doesn't necessarily mean that it will be for them. Sometimes the family feels better if they know what the papers will be writing about them.'

'So you think the media should call the family when a child has died?' Annika knew she sounded confrontational.

Berit drank some more water and thought for a moment. 'Well, each case is different. The only thing you'll