Postcard killers

She picked up the phone, cal ed reception, and asked to speak to Mats Duval.

He answered in his office and she made a note of the extension that flashed on the display. It could come in handy one of these days.

"Hel o, yes, sorry, this is Dessie Larsson. I've got a quick question: have you checked the pawnbrokers?"

"The pawnbrokers? Why would we do that? We don't even know what's been stolen."

He hung up on her – the stupid bastard!

Dessie sat with the receiver in her hand.

This time they knew exactly what had been stolen.

Gabriel a had mentioned the brand of watch, and she had even written it down.

Dessie picked up her notepad and read.

An Omega Double Eagle Chronometer in steel and gold with a mother-ofpearl case.

There couldn't have been many of those handed over to Stockholm's pawnbrokers since Saturday afternoon, certainly not one stil in its original packaging.

She went over to Gabriel a's computer, typed "pawnbroker Stockholm" into the yel ow pages, and got eighteen hits.

She picked up the phone and dialed the first number.

"Hel o, my name's Dessie Larsson, and, wel, this is real y embarrassing, 74 but my boyfriend and I pawned my new Omega and a few other bits and pieces on Saturday, and, wel… we'd had a few beers, and now my boyfriend's lost the receipt and I can't remember which shop we went to. I'm so sorry. The watch was an Omega Double Eagle Chronometer. In steel and gold with a mother-of-pearl case…"

No one was going to confirm that they had the watch in their shop – that would be admitting to breaking the law – but the people who worked there were only human. If they'd received a watch matching that description, they couldn't help but react.

"You can't tel me? Omega Double Eagle?"

Straight denial.

"Wel, thanks, anyway."

She broke the cal and dialed the next number.

Chapter 54

Unfortunately, Olga, the clerk at nk, had to resign from her job in the jewelry department. She had been very upset and apologetic because she had real y enjoyed working there, but her husband had had a stroke and obviously she needed to hurry back home to look after him.

The management at NK had been understanding and let her have both the regular wages she was owed and the extra payment she had earned during tourist season. She had returned to Riga the previous evening.

Jacob slammed his fist down on the jewelry counter, making the gold rings jump.

"Fucking hel!" he shouted. "I told them. Why doesn't anybody listen to me?"

The customers around him backed away in alarm.

"Did she leave an address in Riga?" Gabriel a asked, giving Jacob a look of disapproval. "I'm listening to you, so you don't have to shout."

"I do too have to shout. It makes me feel better."

The head of the jewelry department went over to the office to check, but Jacob couldn't be bothered to wait. The address Olga had given would be false.

And there was no husband who'd had a stroke either.

He waited on the sidewalk outside, rubbing his eyes with his palms. 75 People brushed past him on both sides. They were laughing and talking.

Someone was playing a mouth organ.

It was him. It was the fair-haired man on the video. Jacob was sure of it.

Kimmy's kil er, that was what he looked like. But then he looked again more closely.

The man with the mouth organ wasn't the kil er.

Suddenly Gabriel a came ru

"Duval just cal ed," she said. "Dessie's found the Omega."

Jacob spun around and stared at her.

"What! Where?"

"A pawnshop on Kungsholmstorg, a square just a couple of blocks from police headquarters."

"They've got some nerve," Jacob said, ru

Gabriel a unlocked the car with the infrared as she ran. She got in, stuck a blue light on the roof, and started the siren as she steered the car into heavy afternoon traffic.

Chapter 55

The pawnshop was at a busy intersection and looked like pawnshops usual y do, a bit messy, uncomfortable, apologetic.

They parked on a pedestrian crossing right outside the shop, then hurried inside.

On the front counter stood a digital camera, a box containing an emerald ring, a few other pieces of jewelry – and an Omega in steel and gold in a mother-of-pearl case.

Mats Duval, impeccably dressed in a blazer and chinos, was standing with Dessie, the shop's owner, and two detectives. Duval was leaning over a computer screen.

"Is he on video?" Jacob asked breathlessly.

"We're hoping he is," the superintendent said.

"What ID did he use?"

Duval pushed the pawnbroker's ledger toward him without taking his eyes from the screen.

The items on the counter in the shop had been pawned by a man who had used an American driving licence as his ID, issued in the state of New Mexico in the name Jack Bauer. He had received 16,430 kronor in total.

"Is this some sort of fucking joke?" Jacob asked. "How the hel can 76 someone get away with cal ing himself Jack Bauer? Jack Bauer! The TV show? Twenty-four?"

"Here he is," Mats Duval said, turning the screen to face Jacob.

A tal man in a long, dark coat, with brown hair, a cap, and sunglasses, was shown signing the agreement on the counter in the shop.

No wel -built blond. No Brad Pitt. No Jack Bauer.

What had he been expecting?

"I presume you recognize him," Mats Duval said.

Jacob gave a quick nod.

It was the same man who had been photographed taking money out of ATMs on the murder victims' credit cards throughout Europe.

Chapter 56

"Okay, then," the superintendent said a few minutes later.

"We'l meet again at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. You're al working hard. We'l get these people."

He stood up and walked quickly from the shop without looking back. The two detectives on his team fol owed close on his heels.

Dessie was left standing by the pawnbroker's desk together with Jacob and Gabriel a. On a shelf next to the computer was a copy of that day's Aftonposten. Her own words screamed out its battle cry: "Accept My Chal enge – If You Dare."

She turned the paper over to avoid having to see it. Gabriel a noticed her doing it.

"I agree that publishing the letter wasn't very smart," she said, nodding toward the paper.

Dessie took a deep breath and pul ed on her knapsack.

"See you tomorrow," she said abruptly, heading for the door.

"I've got the car," Gabriel a cal ed after her. "I can give you a lift."

Dessie kept walking.

"It's okay," she said. "I've got my bike at police headquarters. It's close.

I'm fine."

She opened the door and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

"I'l walk with you," Jacob Kanon cal ed, catching up with her.

"I can put the bike in the back," Gabriel a said, jogging after them.

Dessie spun around.

"It's okay," she said. "I'l be fine. Thanks, anyway."

It was evening. The air was damp and cool, and the sun was low in the sky.

"Whatever you want," Gabriel a said, getting into the Saab and speeding off, sour as hel.

With a sense of melancholy, Dessie watched the car drive away.

"You were the one who finished it, weren't you?" Jacob said.

She gave a deep sigh.

"Hungry?" the American asked.

She thought for a moment. Then she nodded. "Strangely, I am."