Postcard killers

Chapter 42

A police inspector took the woman to the expert whose computer was ful of noses, eyes, and hairlines.

"That went pretty wel," Mats Duval said as they walked back toward his office. "A breakthrough, real y. A victory for street-level policing."

"Partly," Jacob said. "Olga wasn't being completely honest with us."

Mats Duval raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"She isn't Latvian. I know Latvians from my old neighborhood," Jacob said. "I think she's from farther east, Russia or Ukraine, which means she's here on a false passport. And she isn't forty. She's more like fifty. I'd find a way to hold her, question her more. She knows something she isn't tel ing us."

The superintendent sat down behind his desk and switched on his computer.

"We don't just hold people as we like in this country, and certainly not on the basis of vague suppositions about false passports."

"It's not because of the passport," Jacob said, making an effort not to shout. "We've scared the hel out of her. Didn't you see that? She'l disappear as soon as she gets the chance."

Mats Duval typed something on his computer and didn't reply.

Jacob took a couple of long strides toward the superintendent's desk and leaned over the screen.

"This is the first time anyone's seen the kil er and remembered him so 60 clearly," he said. "If she disappears, then so do our chances of identifying him."

Mats Duval looked at his watch.

"Time to head off to Aftonposten again," he said.