Trafika Europe 2 - Polish Nocturne
Jansson arrived at the prearranged time. He was an unremarkable-looking man a little over thirty with no distinguishing features. He stood looking at the overcoats. Petri for his part watched him as a store detective should. Jansson took one of the coats into a dressing room. Petri followed him. The package would change owner under the stall divider. A few minutes passed. Petri returned to the men’s clothing department, perspiration on his brow. Would Jansson fall for the trap? The bills had been marked with ink, visible only under ultraviolet light. The police would track their use. It could take years, and in the best case scenario Jansson wouldn’t even know which money had finally caused the demise of his money-laundering operation. The foundation of the plan was that once Jansson got the debt payment in full he would leave Paula Salo’s family alone. Petri and Merja had not earned a cent from their thefts, and though they had committed crimes, it was not my place to judge them. The next morning I told Bruun that the thief had been an external one after all and that I had frightened him so thoroughly that the game would end there.
“But the penalty? The damages?” he asked.
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