The waiter came over to ask if they wanted dessert.
They both said no.
“Were they convicted?” Jacob asked. “For the security van job?”
“Of course,” Dessie said, grabbing the bill. “Although some of the takings were never found.”
“Let me get that,” Jacob said.
“Stop being so macho,” Dessie said, taking out her Amex card. “This is Sweden. Men stopped paying for dates in the sixties.” She motioned the waiter over and handed him her card.
The American poured the last of the wine into their glasses with a grin.
“So this is a date, is it?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. “That’s interesting.”
Dessie looked at him in surprise.
“This? A date? Of course it isn’t.”
“You said it was. You said this was a date. ‘Men stopped paying for -’”
Dessie shuddered.
“That was a figure of speech. This isn’t a date. This will never be a date.”
She signed the credit-card slip and said, “Let’s go. It’s late.”
They stepped out into a light blue evening that would soon be night.
“Where are you staying?” Dessie asked as they walked toward the entrance of police headquarters on Polhemsgatan.
“Lеngholmen,” he said. “A youth hostel, actually.”
“It used to be a prison,” Dessie said.
“Thanks for the reminder,” Jacob said. “I know.”
She got her bicycle, and with Jacob walking alongside, she started slowly cycling home through the Stockholm night. A low mist hung over the waters of Riddarfjдrden, thin veils sweeping in and hiding the sounds of the city: the cars, the drunken shouting, the music coming from open windows. He kept her company all the way to her door.
She looked up at him and he was no more than a silhouette against the moon.
“See you tomorrow,” he said, raising a hand in farewell as he disappeared down toward Gцtgatan.
Chapter 59
THE LETTER 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’ll 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 killers had broken their pattern.
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 really ought to go home.”
She stared at him, speechless.
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 Duvall, Gabriella, and Jacob Kanon arrived at the office. They got there less than five minutes apart, Duvall and Gabriella 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?
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 Duvall said, moving past them. “Right now, all of you.”
Gabriella 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 followed the police through the sports section of the room.
Mats Duvall 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 killers 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 Duvall 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 Duvall said, “but so far no bodies. So what do we have? Can anyone identify the scene of the photograph?”
Chapter 60
DESSIE TOOK A DEEP BREATH and stared hard at the photograph in front of her.
A naked young man was lying on his stomach along the back of what looked like a leather Chesterfield- style sofa. Both of his hands were stretched above his head. On the left side of the sofa sat a young woman with her hands placed demurely in her lap.
On her head she was wearing Mickey Mouse ears.
The sofa was in front of a large window. The picture had been taken from a low angle, meaning that the bodies were shot with the daylight coming from behind them.
“Millesgеrden,” Gabriella said.
Mats Duvall looked at her.
“Do you recognize the setting?”
She nodded her head.
“The artwork they’re imitating. The man is supposed to be the flying statue in the garden outside. The woman might represent one of the animal sculptures that were in an exhibition there this past winter.”
“Get the security recordings from Millesgеrden,” the superintendent said, and one of the detectives
