Postcard killers

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.