Postcard killers

Chapter 59

Wednesday, June 16

Theletter arrived with the first delivery of the morning.

Dessie recognized immediately both the envelope and the writing on it.

This time it hadn't been preceded by a warning postcard.

She opened it with her letter knife, wearing gloves on her trembling hands. She was in the presence of the police forensics team and they made her jumpy.

The envelope contained a Polaroid picture, just as the last one had.

"I'l take care of that," said one of the officers, grabbing the picture from her.

She had time to register the bodies and the blood.

She went over to her desk and sank down in the chair. An intense feeling of uneasiness started to spread from her stomach out to her limbs. "Oh, dear god, dear god," she muttered softly.

The text she'd written for the paper had evidently worked. The kil ers had broken their pattern. They had carried out more murders in Stockholm instead of moving on to the next city.

The realization made it hard to breathe.

She had caused the deaths of two more innocent people.

How could she live with herself after this?

Forsberg, the news editor, red-eyed with lack of sleep, sat down on a chair beside her.

"Feeling rough?" he asked.

She looked at him without replying.

"Maybe you should take the day off? Get some rest? You real y ought to go home."

She stared at him, speechless. Day off? Rest?!

He drummed his fingers on her desk for a few seconds before getting up and going back to the news desk.

Dessie stayed where she was until Mats Duval, Gabriel a, and Jacob Kanon arrived at the office. They got there less than five minutes apart, Duval and Gabriel a looking white as paper.

"What have I done?" she said, looking up at Jacob. "What damage have I caused?"

He looked at her with a surprisingly calm expression.

"Aren't you crediting yourself with a bit too much? They did this, not you."

She quickly stood up, aiming for the restroom, but Jacob caught her with a firm grasp on her upper arm.

"Stop it," he said. "This is a blow, but it's not your fault. Instead of feeling sorry for yourself, help us."

"The conference room," Mats Duval said, moving past them. "Right now, 81 al of you."

Gabriel a walked after the superintendent, giving Jacob a sharp look.

Dessie, who was suddenly extremely conscious of Jacob's hand on her arm, shook herself free and fol owed the police through the sports section of the room.

Mats Duval raised an eyebrow in surprise when she sat down with the investigating team around the table.

"Our work is covered by confidentiality laws," he said.

"First the kil ers dragged me into this nightmare," Dessie said. "Then you did the same. So now I'm here, whether you like it or not."

The superintendent frowned.

Jacob threw his arms out.

"So let her join in. How hard can it be? She's been useful so far. We owe her something."

Mats Duval straightened his back.

"If you stay as an observer only. You can't write anything about what we talk about. You're clear about that?"

"Unless you order me to, right?" Dessie said sharply.

The superintendent let the subject drop. One of the detectives handed around enlarged copies of the latest photograph.

"Okay, we've got another double murder," Mats Duval said, "but so far no bodies. So what do we have? Can anyone identify the scene of the photograph?"