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“From what I’m reading here, the victims were robbed,” Dino says, flipping through the police report.
“Not robbed, not exactly,” I say loudly, causing them all to look at me sharply.
But this bit of information is the reason I first began to suspect the deaths were more than just random robberies gone bad.
“Their phones were found on them, unless they had left them at home,” I explain. “And those that had their wallets were relieved of them. But these wallets were always found in a trashcan near the crime scenes, with all the credit cards and IDs still inside.”
“But not the cash?” Dino asks.
I shake my head. “No way to really know if they had any cash on them to begin with, but yes, the wallets were empty of cash except for coins in a few cases.”
This also struck me as strange. Why take the bills and leave the coins if you’re robbing someone? It’s not like all Euro coins are of low value.
“All I’m trying to say is that thieves and pickpockets these days just go for the cash and leave everything else,” Dino says, almost apologetically. “Phones are almost impossible to sell on the black market, since they can all be tracked via serial numbers and using cards isn’t as easy as it used to be now that everyone has 24/7 access to their bank account on their phone.”
“But that’s now, and it was the same with the victims from twenty years ago,” I say and point at a name on my crumpled up list. “As far as I can tell, the first victim of this killer was Tim Ban in 1999. Phones weren’t a big thing yet back then, and while Tim had one, he didn’t have it on him on the night he was killed. He did have his wallet though, and it was found in a trashcan about a hundred meters from where he was found. The same with Klara Ahlin and Tina Ceh.”
I point out the two names on my list. The two women were both killed in the year 2000, one in the beginning and the other just after November 1st, which is All Saints Day and also known as the Day of the Dead.
I vaguely remember Tina’s case. I was in my first year at the London School of Economics, and the idea of a young woman getting stabbed in the middle of the night freaked me out. But I also promptly forgot about it.
After Tina, the killings stop for three years, picking up again five years later with another three victims, then stop again for five years and are followed by another three. The break between the spurts of killings was the longest before this last one. Ten years. But we have another three victims now. He’s never killed more than three in any of these seasons of his, for lack of a better word, but he’s also never killed them in the space of just a few months.
“Simon will get us those files and we’ll comb through them this afternoon,” Mark says. “Now I suggest we all get to work. The latest victim is the place to start. Report back if you find anything interesting,” he instructs the team. “An innocent kid might be in jail for this.”
“And the real killer is still on the loose,” I add and they all nod and start rising.
At least Mark seems to believe we might be onto something. Or is he just humoring me too?
“You can skip the morgue visit if you want,” he tells me while Dino and Brina are noisily getting their things and putting on their coats very slowly. Simon is already in his office with the glass door shut, but I can see him working on his computer, typing fast like he’s searching for something. At least he’s taking this seriously.
Simon and I went to high school together and the only reason we reconnected now was because he was trying to get me to persuade Mark to join this task force. Then he spent all of Mark’s first case with the task force disrespecting him. And I have no idea why I can’t stop focusing on the negative about every single thing right now.
“No, I want to visit the morgue,” I say, although seeing dead bodies, even just pictures of them, is my least favorite thing about what I do. Visiting the places where people died has a similar, possibly even worse effect on me. “Dr. Marolt will be there. She might remember some of the earlier victims.”
Mark shrugs and gets my parka from the coat rack by the door through which Dino and Brina have finally left a few moments ago.
He holds the parka open for me so I can put it on more easily.
“OK, but I want to get some lunch first,” he says. “Morgues always take away my appetite.”
He’s even less of a fan of visiting morgues than I am, which is odd for an investigator that’s been at it for as long as he has. I personally think it’s because of the high degree of empathy he has for the victims, which is also the reason his solve rate is so high.
He doesn’t usually even mention his dislike of morgues though, unless it’s to complain that the task force office is decorated in roughly the same style as a morgue—with lots of glass, black leather and accents in shades of dark blue and grey.
So the fact that he’s talking about it now, and insisting we eat first, might mean that he’s trying to protect me from the worst of this case. But maybe I’m just finding fault with everything because I am actually hungry and cranky because of it.
After two months of trying to get him interested in this case I unearthed, he’s finally agreed to investigate it. So, yes, I should calm down, get in a better mood and let him do what he does best.
