Postcard killers

Chapter 53

Dessie spread her notes and research material out across Gabriel a's desk. She was starting to get excited about the possibility of solving these murders.

There was one aspect of the kil ers' pattern that she'd noticed several times: they were thieves, too. They took cameras, jewelry, electronic gadgets like iPods and mobile phones, credit cards, and other valuables that had one thing in common. They were among the easiest things to get rid of on the black market.

She leaned back in her chair, chewing the hel out of a bal point pen.

If she ignored the murders and the brutal artistic associations, what was left of the Postcard Kil ers?

Wel, a couple of petty thieves.

And how did people like that behave?

She didn't need her research material in front of her to know the answer to that.

They were creatures of habit, just like everyone else, and maybe even more so.

Criminals who concentrated on break-ins, for instance, almost always 73 started in the bedroom. That was where they could usual y find jewelry and cash.

Then they did the study, with its laptops and video cameras.

Then, final y, they went through the living room, with al the expensive but bulky items, like televisions and stereos.

After the crime, the stolen items had to be gotten rid of, and that was where things started to get interesting for Dessie.

What usual y happened was that the thieves passed their takings on to a fence, often at a serious discount. That was a price the thieves were wil ing to pay. Having an established channel to get rid of stolen property was worth its weight in gold. It took away the biggest risks.

But what did they do if they didn't have an established channel?

They used pawnbrokers, drug dealers, acquaintances, and even strangers.

So, what channels were open to the Postcard Kil ers in their murderous cavalcade across Europe?

They came completely fresh to each new city, which meant they lacked any form of local network. They couldn't sel to fences or acquaintances, and they would hardly take the risk of trying to sel the stolen property to strangers.

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.