Postcard killers

Chapter 66

They were american citizens, their names Sylvia and Malcolm Rudolph, from Santa Barbara, California.

Their arrest was entirely undramatic.

They went right along to the police station without protest to clear up what was obviously a misunderstanding. They were both very calm, if a little curious and perhaps a little anxious, but no more than might be expected.

Natural y, they wanted to cooperate in any way they could to sort out the mix-up.

The premises of the Stockholm police had no rooms equipped with oneway mirrors. Instead, Jacob and Dessie, together with Gabriel a and the rest of the investigative team, were shown into a control room where the recorded interview was being shown live.

Jacob's hands were trembling, his mouth completely dry. There they were.

After al the months spent searching, al the cities he'd been in.

He stood at the back of the room, worried that he might otherwise attack the television screens with his fists.

The fair-haired male, Malcolm Rudolph, was already sitting down, nervously rubbing his hands. He was stunningly handsome, no doubt about that.

Jacob couldn't take his eyes off this man.

It was him, Jacob was sure of it. There he was: the bastard who had kil ed Kimmy.

The door of the interrogation room opened and Mats Duval and Sara Hoglund entered and sat down opposite the man.

Mats Duval jabbered his way through the formalities about time and location. Then Sara Hoglund leaned across the table and began the first interview.

"Malcolm," she said calmly, "do you understand why you're here?"

The young man bit his lip.

"The police at the Central Station had our pictures," he said. "I guess you've been looking for us, that you think we've done something."

"Do you know what?"

He shook his head. "No, not at al."

"It's about Nienke van Mourik and Peter Visser," the head of the unit said. "They were found dead in their room in the Grand Hotel this morning."

Malcolm Rudolph's face registered shock and alarm.

"That can't be true," he protested. "Nienke and Peter? But we just saw them, what, yesterday afternoon! We're al going on a cruise to Finland together this weekend!"

Jacob let out a noise that sounded like a purr.

"So you maintain you don't know anything about their deaths?" Hoglund asked.

"Are they real y dead?"

Malcolm Rudolph began to cry.