The Silver Boy Read online

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  About the Author

  Also by Kristina Ohlsson

  Copyright

  About the Book

  They thought ghosts didn’t exist …

  But when Aladdin’s parents discover food is being stolen from their restaurant, he and his friends decide to investigate.

  Soon, Aladdin notices a strange boy – dressed in shorts, despite the freezing cold. But as hard as he tries to catch him, the boy always disappears – leaving no tracks in the fresh snow. Before long, Aladdin and his friends are pulled into a web of secrets and history, treasure and crime.

  Can they uncover the mystery of the curious Silver Boy?

  Chapter One

  The first time Aladdin saw the boy in the short trousers it was snowing. The sky was heavy with thick clouds, and it was cold. Aladdin was going ice-skating with his friend Billie; the river that ran through the middle of Åhus had frozen, turning the narrow strip of water into a shining ice rink. Aladdin’s father said he couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

  ‘I’ve lived in Åhus for almost ten years, and I’ve never seen the river freeze as early as November,’ he said.

  Aladdin listened as he tucked a sandwich and a flask of hot chocolate into his rucksack.

  His mother and father had moved to Sweden from Turkey when Aladdin was a little boy. He couldn’t remember anything about it. If anyone asked where he came from, he always said ‘Åhus’.

  On the day he saw the boy in the short trousers, he was in a hurry. He knew he was late, and he didn’t want Billie to have to wait for him.

  Then again, these days it wasn’t actually Aladdin’s fault that he was late. It was all down to his parents; they had decided to sell their house and move into the old water tower where their restaurant, the Turk in the Tower, was situated.

  ‘What do you mean, we’re going to live in the water tower?’ Aladdin had said. ‘Are you crazy? We can’t do that!’

  ‘Why not?’ his mother had replied. ‘We own the whole building, but we only use the top floor and the bottom floor for the restaurant. The rest of the place is empty.’

  And that was exactly what had happened; just a few weeks ago they had moved in, and now Aladdin had to run up five flights of stairs to get to his room, which was why he was often late meeting his friends. His mother joked and said it was good for him, and that he would develop strong legs. Aladdin didn’t find her comments remotely amusing. After all, he knew the real reason behind the move.

  The restaurant wasn’t doing too well. They weren’t earning as much money any more, so first of all they had sold the house, then the houseboat on which they used to live in the summer.

  ‘It’s the same for everyone; sometimes you have more money, sometimes you have less,’ Aladdin’s father said. ‘It’s nothing to worry about.’

  But Aladdin could see that he was anxious, and it didn’t feel right. Not one little bit.

  ‘Just be careful,’ Aladdin’s mother said when he had finished packing his rucksack. ‘Just remember that the river is only frozen right up at the top end, not further down where the boats are.’

  ‘Yeah yeah,’ Aladdin said as he dashed off.

  His mother called him back. ‘Don’t be late for dinner. Your dad and I want to talk to you.’ She looked serious.

  Aladdin frowned. ‘Has something happened?’

  ‘We’ll talk about it later. Off you go – have fun with Billie!’

  With that she turned away and went back to the restaurant. Aladdin made his way slowly down the stairs. What did his parents want to talk to him about?

  Just as he walked out through the front door, he saw the boy. He was standing a short distance away looking at Aladdin, who was so surprised he almost dropped the rucksack he was clutching in his arms.

  ‘Hi,’ he said automatically.

  The boy was standing next to the restaurant sign that Aladdin’s father had put up. There was something peculiar about him. In spite of the cold weather, he was wearing only short trousers and a black and white striped jumper. The trousers were made of some kind of thick green material; Aladdin thought they looked scratchy. Below them were long socks and boots. Black leather boots, scuffed and worn.

  The boy didn’t respond to Aladdin’s greeting; he just stood there in the snow, staring. Aladdin hesitated. Perhaps he ought to stop – maybe the boy needed help?

  ‘Are you lost?’ Aladdin asked.

  He felt stupid. Lost? The boy looked about twelve years old, the same age as Aladdin. If he was lost, he wouldn’t be standing there in the snow staring at Aladdin.

  Still the boy didn’t speak. He looked away and set off towards the tower. Were his parents in the restaurant?

  But the boy didn’t go inside; he disappeared round the side of the tower. Aladdin glanced at his watch; he really didn’t have time for this. He was already late. But his curiosity got the better of him – he just had to see where the boy had gone.

  Quickly he swung the rucksack onto his back and hurried round the tower. But after just a few metres he stopped dead. There was no sign of the boy.

  ‘Hello?’ Aladdin called.

  No reply.

  Weird.

  He gazed all around, unsure what to do next. It was as if the ground had opened up and simply swallowed the boy.

  Chapter Two

  ‘What do you mean, he disappeared?’ Billie said.

  She and Aladdin were sitting on the jetty by the river, putting on their skates.

  ‘He just disappeared,’ Aladdin said again. ‘He went round the side of the tower, and then – pouf! Nothing. He just wasn’t there any more.’

  Aladdin had run all the way to the river, and had only been a couple of minutes late.

  ‘That sounds weird,’ Billie said. ‘Surely he must have been frozen if he was in short trousers?’

  ‘I don’t know. He didn’t look cold. And he was wearing long socks.’

  ‘Long socks,’ Billie giggled.

  She tied one last knot in the laces of her skates and stood up. There were already lots of people on the ice. She bent down and took something out of a carrier bag she had brought with her.

  A lifejacket.

  Aladdin burst out laughing. ‘You’re not going to wear that, are you?’

  ‘I have to,’ Billie said. ‘Otherwise Mum will go mad. She said I wasn’t allowed on the ice without a lifejacket.’

  Billie was the size of a small elephant by the time she had put it on over her thick winter jacket. She pulled on her helmet, squashing her woolly hat down over her forehead.

  She sighed as Aladdin carried on laughing.

  ‘OK, let�
��s go,’ he said, setting off on wobbly legs.

  ‘Mum said we have to stick to the parts where we’re sure the ice is thick enough,’ Billie said.

  ‘My mum said exactly the same thing.’

  ‘And we’re not allowed to go anywhere near the refugee boat either.’

  The refugee boat was a large fishing boat moored in the harbour. It had simply appeared one morning, packed with people from another country. The newspapers had started calling it the refugee boat. Nobody seemed to know what was going to happen to the boat itself, or to the people on board. Aladdin didn’t even know where they were from, but he did know why they wouldn’t leave the boat; it was because they wanted to stay in Sweden, and they didn’t want to end up in some refugee reception centre. If they were forced to leave Åhus, perhaps they would just sail away one night.

  The harbour was long and narrow; it didn’t widen out until it reached the sea. In spite of the fact that it was early winter, Aladdin was already longing for the summer, when the ice-cream boat would open up and there would be lots of people in the village. Åhus was so gloomy and quiet in the winter.

  Neither Billie nor Aladdin were particularly good at ice-skating, but it was still fun. They had just passed one of the restaurants by the harbour when two older boys came whizzing along, moving far too fast. Aladdin didn’t have time to work out what was happening; he just felt someone cannon into him, and he lost his balance. The ice was cold and hard as he landed on his stomach.

  ‘Look where you’re going!’ Billie shouted crossly, but the two boys just laughed and kept on going.

  ‘Idiots,’ Aladdin muttered as he struggled to his feet. His knees twinged as he straightened up.

  ‘Did you hurt yourself?’ Billie asked anxiously.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Aladdin said, brushing the snow off his clothes.

  And that was when he saw the boy in the green short trousers again. On a small hill behind the restaurants lay the remains of an old castle. The boy was standing on the castle wall, gazing out across the ice.

  ‘There!’ Aladdin said, pointing. ‘Can you see him? Up on the wall?’

  Billie looked. ‘I can’t see anybody.’

  ‘Are you blind?’ Aladdin said crossly, looking over at her. ‘He’s there, on the castle wall!’

  He pointed again, his breath turning to mist in the cold air.

  Slowly he lowered his arm.

  The boy had disappeared. Again.

  Chapter Three

  There was a wonderful aroma of garlic. Aladdin’s mum and dad had brought chicken and rice down from the restaurant for dinner. He had been so busy thinking about the boy who had disappeared that he had forgotten they wanted to talk to him about something. But now he remembered.

  There was silence around the table. A peculiar kind of silence. And it was odd that all three of them were eating together; that hadn’t happened for a long time. Mum and Dad were nearly always working.

  Eventually his mum spoke up. ‘Aladdin, we’re sorry to have to ask you this, but … have you taken any food from the restaurant?’

  Aladdin was so surprised that he hardly knew what to say. ‘No. Why would I do that?’

  He knew that he wasn’t allowed to take anything from the restaurant without asking first. Which he always did.

  ‘The thing is,’ his father said, looking slightly relieved, ‘food has been going missing from the kitchen.’

  ‘How much food?’ Aladdin asked.

  ‘Quite a lot, actually,’ his mother replied. ‘At first we didn’t pay much attention, but today all the Mirja meatballs had gone, which was a nuisance because customers had to sit and wait while I made a fresh batch.’

  Aladdin’s Turkish grandmother had given his parents her recipe for meatballs, so they were named after her. They were very popular with customers, so his father usually kept a good stock in the freezer.

  ‘That’s weird,’ Aladdin said.

  He still didn’t quite know what to say; did his own parents really think he’d turned into a thief? If so, it was a bit upsetting.

  ‘What makes you think it was me?’ he said. ‘I mean, it could be anybody!’

  His parents both started talking at the same time.

  ‘It’s just that it’s been going on for over a week now,’ his mother explained. ‘There’s food in the freezer at night, and the following morning it’s gone. There aren’t many people who have access to the kitchen overnight.’

  That was true, of course. Only Aladdin and his parents could get into the restaurant when it was closed. But then he thought of something.

  ‘Mats has a set of keys.’

  Mats was his parents’ right-hand man in the restaurant. He did the shopping, the cleaning and the washing-up, and he was also responsible for minor repairs.

  ‘That occurred to us as well,’ his father said. ‘But Mats is loyal, you know that. He would never do such a thing.’

  Aladdin didn’t believe they could be sure of that. ‘Maybe he lent the key to someone else? Someone who came in and stole food without Mats knowing anything about it?’

  His parents looked worried.

  ‘You could be right,’ his father said. ‘But in that case I’d like to know what he’s doing lending our key to a stranger.’

  Aladdin’s mother looked at him with tenderness in her eyes. ‘I was hoping it was you who’d taken the food, sweetheart. I thought maybe one of your friends had problems at home and you were trying to help, but I guess that’s not the case.’

  Aladdin didn’t say anything for a little while. He still thought his parents were hiding something from him; something bigger than the mystery of the missing food.

  ‘Has anything else happened?’ he said eventually.

  His parents looked at one another, then at Aladdin.

  ‘Well,’ his father began. ‘Maybe. It’s not something we need to go into in detail right now, but … you know we’ve had problems recently? Financial problems, I mean.’

  Aladdin nodded. ‘That’s why we sold the house and the boat.’

  ‘Exactly,’ his mother said. ‘It’s just that things haven’t really improved. They’ve got worse, in fact.’

  ‘Worse?’

  ‘As I said, we don’t need to go into detail right now,’ his father said quickly.

  ‘But …’

  Aladdin’s mother shook her head. ‘It’s nothing for you to worry about, Aladdin. Think about the food and tell us if you come up with any ideas about who might have taken it. If we didn’t have these other problems, we could have laughed it off, but right now it’s a serious matter.’

  Aladdin was about to say they were wrong, that it concerned the whole family if they were running out of money. But then it occurred to him that perhaps there was someone else who could be stealing food.

  ‘I saw a boy today when I went skating. He was wearing short trousers even though it was freezing cold. He was standing in the snow when I left here; I wonder if he could have taken the food …’

  ‘A boy? In short trousers?’ his father repeated slowly.

  Aladdin nodded. ‘I saw him twice, once in the garden and then down by the river. He was standing on the castle wall.’

  His mother patted her hair to make sure the thick braid was intact. ‘Perhaps he’s one of the children from the refugee boat,’ she said. ‘Those poor souls are still living on board.’

  Aladdin’s father looked almost relieved. ‘Come and tell us next time you see him so that we can have a word with him. He’s welcome to all the food I can spare, but it would be easier if he didn’t steal from us. If it is him, of course.’

  ‘But how would he get in?’ his mother said. ‘The doors are locked all night.’

  ‘Perhaps he comes in while the restaurant is open, then hides away until we’ve gone to bed? There are plenty of hiding places in the tower.’

  His mother shuddered. ‘I can cope with the thought of a child running around in here, but that’s something we ought to think about – anyone co
uld wait inside the tower after we’ve closed.’

  Aladdin felt a chill run down his spine. Someone was getting in at night and stealing food. Could it really be the boy in short trousers? He decided it didn’t really matter who it was.

  Someone was coming into their tower, their home, without asking permission.

  Someone was taking stuff from their restaurant.

  That wasn’t just wrong. It was horrible.

  Chapter Four

  It was the weekend again, and Aladdin and Billie were sitting in Aladdin’s room eating sweets. It was snowing, and neither of them wanted to go out. More food had gone missing from the restaurant. Aladdin hadn’t seen any sign of the boy in the short trousers, and was starting to wonder if he had imagined the whole thing.

  ‘A thief?’ Billie said. ‘For real?’

  They hadn’t seen each other all week. Aladdin had been busy with school, homework, piano lessons and his model planes. He didn’t know what Billie had been up to, but she’d probably had homework too. And she’d probably read a load of books; Aladdin didn’t know anyone who read as much as Billie.

  ‘For real,’ he said. ‘Someone is sneaking into our tower at night and stealing food. My parents think it might be one of the refugee kids from the boat.’

  ‘Haven’t they called the police?’

  Aladdin sighed. Of course they had, but apparently the police had more important things to do than search for stolen meatballs.

  ‘Perhaps I could have a word with Josef,’ Billie suggested. ‘I’m sure he could help.’

  Josef was a police officer, and a friend of Billie’s mother.

  ‘That would be brilliant,’ Aladdin said; he liked Josef. ‘But don’t mention that the thief could be a child; Dad doesn’t want the police involved if that is the case.’

  Deep down, Aladdin wondered what Josef could do. For almost a week his father had stayed up each night keeping watch on the stairs – only for a few hours, to be fair, because he had to get some sleep – but he had seen nothing. And still food was disappearing from the fridge; the latest thing was a big batch of fruit salad that his mother had made during the evening.

  Billie took another sweet. ‘Does it really matter if a little bit of food goes missing?’ she said. ‘I mean, your parents have loads of food. And loads of money.’