Postcard killers

Chapter 68

Jacob had to stop himself from smashing his fist through the cement wall. He was forced to take a quick walk out in the corridor to calm himself down, if that was even possible.

He came back into the control room just as the young woman was taking her place in the interrogation room.

Sylvia.

She seemed more col ected than her husband and answered the questions calmly and clearly.

When she heard that the Dutch couple had been murdered, she put her hands to her face and wept quietly for a moment.

Then she confirmed Malcolm's story: they'd eaten lunch with Nienke and Peter and were planning a joint trip to Helsinki next weekend.

"How did you arrange it?"

"We booked the tickets on the Internet – from a Seven-Eleven shop," she said.

"Which company?"

"Silja."

She smiled.

"I remember that because it sounds a bit like my name, Sylvia."

"Where was the shop?"

"On the long pedestrian street that runs right through the Old Town, Vasterlang-?"

"Vasterlanggatan?"

"Yes, that's it."

One of the detectives got up at once and left the room to check out her story.

"Who actual y purchased the tickets?" Sara Hoglund asked. "Do you remember?"

Jacob slapped his forehead.

"Good God!" he said. "What sort of performance is this? Question time in Sunday school? Jesus, ask her some tough questions, for fuck's sake!"

Gabriel a came over and stood right next to Jacob. Her eyes were red and her breath smel ed of coffee.

"Pul yourself together," she said. "You're behaving like a kid. Let Sara and Mats do their jobs."

"That's precisely what I mean!" Jacob yel ed. "They're not doing their jobs! They're sitting there making nice with her! She's a cold-blooded murderer. Look at her. She's so calm."

Take it easy, Jacob," Dessie said, putting her hand on his arm.

He ran his hands through his hair and swal owed audibly.

On the television screen the interrogation slowly continued. No big ups or downs.

"Where were you on November twenty-seventh last year?"

Sylvia Rudolph played thoughtful y with a curl of hair. She was very pretty, though not as striking as her husband.

"I can't remember offhand. Can I check in my diary? I might have something there."

Mats Duval switched on his electronic notepad.

"Let's take something more recent," he said. "Where were you on February ninth this year?"

Jacob leaned forward to hear better. That was the date of the kil ings in Athens. He knew every murder date by heart.

"February?" the woman said with a frown. "In Spain, I think. Yes, that's right. We were in Madrid in early February, because Mac had a stomach bug and we had to go to a doctor."

"Can you remember the name of the doctor?"

She pul ed a face.

"No," she said, "but I've stil got the receipt. It was real y expensive, and the doctor was useless."

Jacob gave a groan.

The questions meandered on, and Sylvia answered them al in the same 93 calm, matter-of-fact manner.

"What's the reason for the trip to Europe? Why did you come here?"

"We're art students," Sylvia said.

Dessie and Jacob exchanged a quick glance. Final y there was something.

"We're at UCLA and have taken a year off. It's been real y educational.

Super. Until today, anyway."

"How long have you been married?"

The young woman opened her eyes wide, then burst out laughing. Dessie and Jacob looked at each other again.

"Married! We're not married. Mac's my twin brother."

Part Two