Postcard killers

Chapter 41

The shop assistant at nk was a forty-year-old woman from Riga named Olga. She had bleached-blond hair and big earrings, held a goldsmith's diploma, and was fluent in five languages. Swedish wasn't one of them. She had gotten the job in the jewelry section of the department store during the tourist season to take care of foreign customers.

Two days before, she had sold an Omega watch, a Double Eagle Chronometer in steel and gold with a mother-of-pearl case, to the murdered German tourist Rolf Hetger.

Now she was sitting in the interrogation room on the fourth floor of Stockholm's police headquarters, clearly il at ease.

Jacob studied the woman from his position by the wal.

She looked considerably older than her forty years. The question was, Why was she so nervous?

"Can you tel us about your encounter with Rolf Hetger?" Mats Duval 58 asked.

The Latvian licked her lips.

"He wanted to look at a watch. That's pretty much it," she said. "There was another man with him. They spoke English to each other. They were both very stylish."

She blushed.

"Can you describe the other man's appearance for me? Please."

"The American? He was blond and real y fair. He looked like a film star.

He was very charming. Humorous, attentive."

She looked down at the table.

Jacob felt his muscles tense: the kil er was a flirtatious American? Of course he was.

"What made you think the fair-haired man was American?" the superintendent asked.

Olga fingered one of her earrings.

"He spoke American," she said.

"Are you sure of that?"

She blushed deeper.

"He sounded… he looked… like that nice actor with long hair… from Legends of the Fal."

Mats Duval looked confused.

"Brad Pitt," Jacob said.

The superintendent cast a surprised glance in Jacob's direction.

"What happened at the store? Tel us everything. Please."

"They looked at watches. The German was thinking of buying a Swatch at first, but the American persuaded him to buy a different one. So that's what he did."

Over 22,000 kronor for an impulse buy, Jacob thought. The kil er was very persuasive.

"Did Rolf Hetger sign for it or use his PIN?"

Olga breathed deeply for a few seconds.

"He used his code."

"And where was the American while this was going on? The purchase transaction."

"He was standing right next to him."

"Do you think you'd recognize the American if you saw him again?"

She hesitated, then nodded.

"Why's that?" Mats Duval asked.

Olga looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You must have hundreds of customers every day. How come you remember these two in particular?"

"Not hundreds," she said and seemed slightly annoyed, "and not many of them buy expensive Omegas."

She looked down and Jacob could tel that she was lying.

Olga remembered the men because they were young, wealthy, handsome, and had flirted with her.

He knotted his hands. This was what he'd been waiting for: a mistake.

They'd been sloppy and had made themselves visible. They had final y left a trail. Now could he fol ow it?

"Have you got the equipment to do electronic composite pictures?" he asked.

"Two floors down," Mats Duval replied. "We can do anything you can do in America."

They ended the session.