Postcard killers

Chapter 89

Friday, June 18

She was woken by a muffled electronic noise. It was coming from somewhere beneath them, and she waited quietly until the annoying sound stopped.

Careful y she laid her head back on Jacob's chest and breathed in his smel, a combination of sweat and aftershave. Everything was quiet. The sun was already high in the sky, drowning the little room in white light.

Dessie wondered how long she had been asleep.

An hour, maybe two.

She wanted to lie here forever. Never have to get up from this bed or leave this man, never do anything else for the rest of her life but make love to him until the day they died, or possibly until the lack of caffeine made her change her mind.

It would soon be unbearably hot in here. In his cel. That much was a certainty.

She wriggled her way out of his embrace, pul ed herself up on one elbow, and looked at his sleeping face.

He looked so young when his face was relaxed and al his worries were far away.

His hair curled over his forehead and spread out on the pil ow. He couldn't have had it cut for at least six months.

Not since Kimmy. She thought about Jacob's daughter now, picturing her face. How unbearably sad to lose her like that… to outlive your own child.

The electronic noise started up again, longer and more persistent this time.

It was her cel phone.

Damn, it was in her knapsack, which had slid under the bed the night before, during their somewhat chaotic entry into the little room.

She waited until it stopped buzzing. Jacob stirred in his sleep beside her.

She leaned over the edge of the bed, pul ed out the knapsack, and fished out her phone.

One missed cal.

One new message.

She clicked on the message.

It was a news flash from the main Swedish news agency, short and concise as usual.

She gasped, "Oh, no."

Jacob's heavy breathing stopped and she realized he was awake. She'd woken him. She felt his warm hand on her back, a caress that carried the promise of something more.

She turned to face him, meeting his radiant eyes.

His smile faded when he saw the look on her face.

"What is it?" he said. "What's happened?"

Oh god, oh god, how was she going to tel him?

He sat up so abruptly that he hit his head on the top bunk. "Just say it, for 119 god's sake!"

She shrank from his words.

"They're out," she said. "Ridderwal has let the Postcard Killers go free."