White Night

by J J Marsh

  “I can honestly swear I have never been turned on by the Spice Girls. But even in stonewashed denim, you are my dream woman.” He kissed her. “Are you ready, Lady Lip Gloss? I’d like to drop you off a bit early so I can buy some wine for Mum.”

  En route to the pub, she charged him with delivering her love to Heather and promised to be home by lunchtime tomorrow. He pulled up outside The Angel and wished her a fun evening. She blew him a kiss goodbye, so as not to leave more sticky gloss on his face and hopped out of the Land Rover. He drove away with a toot of the horn and she turned to the pub. Let battle commence.

  The landlady, Susie, had followed Tanya’s instructions to the letter. The function room was all set for a girlie party of cocktails, music and a trip down memory lane. A slide show was all prepared to play on the white wall at the end of the room. It would show pictures of Tanya from bald pudding in a pram to the day she got engaged. Everyone present was included in at least one photograph and even some absent, such as Beatrice Stubbs.

  The minibus arrived at seven-thirty, announced by whoops and squeals and gales of laughter. Tanya met her guests at the door, kissing and hugging and exclaiming over their outfits. Friends from school, from work, from the village, her babysitter, her sister and finally, her mother all ascended the stairs and filled the room.

  The atmosphere was giddy, as guests helped themselves to glasses of Prosecco. Marianne immediately buttonholed Tanya. “Where’s the stage area? I told you we planned a little performance. I specifically asked Susie to leave a place for ...”

  “I know what you said. But this is my night and I have chosen the tone. Sorry. No performance, no surprises.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her mother approaching.

  Pam hovered at Tanya’s elbow? “What’s up, girls? Do we have a problem?”

  “Yes,” said Marianne.

  “No,” snapped Tanya.

  The door opened and Catinca walked in. All heads turned to stare at the vision in the doorway. In a pink tutu, pink tartan bustier with exposed midriff and bright red Converse All-Stars on her feet, Catinca had styled her hair into a cascade of black ringlets, threaded with electric pink streaks. The room erupted into spontaneous applause.

  She swept into the room and embraced Tanya. Then she clasped Pam’s hands in both of hers and whispered something in her ear. Pam nodded, all earnestness, and motioned to Marianne. The three of them snatched up a glass of Prosecco each and retreated to a window seat, deep in discussion. Curious as Tanya was, she trusted Catinca to handle things her own way. Now it was party time and first track on the playlist was Britney Spears.

  At half past eleven, Susie came upstairs to let guests know the minibus had arrived. With much groaning, emotional farewells and a final few selfies, the room emptied. Tanya and Catinca followed them out into the car park, waving and blowing kisses. Once the bus had departed, they returned to the pub. Seated at a table covered in glitter and feathers, they toasted a successful evening.

  “What did you say to my mother and sister? They’ve been as docile as lambs,” Tanya asked, draining her glass.

  “Truth, mate. Told them your wedding is not just your special day, but also a Catinca Radu showcase. Got a photographer coming, gonna put selected pictures into catalogue and whole event is stage-managed by me. Nothing, and I mean nothing, happens without approval by me. I am wedding designer and I need two smart women to make sure everything I say goes. Anyone tries to change one tiny detail, they tell me. Them two are my Rottweilers, innit?”

  Tanya rubbed a hand over her face. “But the only people trying to change details are my mother and sister.”

  “Not anymore, mate.” Catinca blinked her eyes like a cat. “People will fall over themselves if they think pictures will end up in gossip magazine. You gonna have the wedding you want and rest of your squad got your back.”

  Tanya held out her glass and Catinca filled it with the dregs from a Prosecco bottle. “You are amazing, Ms Radu. What would I do without you? You know what? I wish Beatrice was here.”

  “Me an’ all. Sodding off to Finland just before wedding? Me and her gonna have words. And I’m kicking Theo’s arse too.”

  “Kick his arse? I thought you fancied him.”

  Catinca snorted and ran her fingers through her ringlets. “Of course I fancy him. Who doesn’t? He’s sexy as hell. That don’t mean I can’t kick his arse. Trouble with Theo, he’s way too willing to please. Beatrice says jump, he jumps. With forceful personality like Beatrice, you gotta be strong. Otherwise she always gets her way. Tell you what, Matthew deserves a lot of respect.”

  “Is there any more Prosecco?”

  Catinca placed an arm around her shoulders. “Not for you, mate. Big glass of water and bed or you ain’t fit for nothing in the morning.”

  “I’m getting married on Saturday,” said Tanya, as Catinca heaved her to her feet.

  “I know. And it’s gonna be sodding spectacular.”

  Chapter 16

  At that precise moment in time, Catinca wasn’t the only person who wanted to kick Theo’s arse. Wide-awake and alternating between annoyed and amused, Beatrice lay under the duvet, wondering if she was likely to get any sleep.

  With one look at her assistant when he had arrived back at the hotel bar at twenty past nine in the evening, she gave up on having any kind of intelligent conversation. For someone who rarely drank, Theo must have consumed an entire week’s worth of alcohol in one afternoon. His eyes were glassy and his coordination was suspect. On top of that, his usually soft-spoken voice had turned into a foghorn.

  “Beatrice!” he boomed. “Sorry I’m late. Didn’t get a chance to send you a message, sorry. Have you eaten? I’m starving. Let’s have dinner and I’ll tell you what I found out from the…”

  Beatrice slipped from her bar stool and guided him towards the lifts. “Hush now. Not here. Let’s get you upstairs and order you something from room service. You need to eat, wash your face and get some sleep. We’ll talk about this in the morning, when you’re sober.”

  Theo weaved his way into the elevator and turned to Beatrice with a finger to his lips. “Ssshh. You never know who might be listening. Walls have ears,” he said, with a giggle.

  Beatrice pressed her lips together and pushed the button for floor six. “I assume you’ve been drinking with the television producer since five o’clock this afternoon. No wonder you’re three feet to the wind. The question is, did you get anything useful out of him?”

  The lift ascended and Theo blinked at her, apparently concentrating hard. “Out of who?”

  “The producer. The person you’ve been getting drunk with all afternoon. Did he tell you anything useful?”

  Theo looked over his shoulder as if checking for eavesdroppers. Where he thought they might be hiding in the lift containing two people, Beatrice had no idea. Theo leaned in to whisper in her ear. “He’s not a he.”

  Fortunately, at that moment the lift opened onto floor six, because Beatrice was on the point of strangling her incoherent assistant. His breath certainly should not come into contact with a naked flame. She marched him down the corridor to his room. Theo found his key card after some pocket searching and let them both in. Beatrice switched on the lights and located the room service menu. When she turned to suggest burger and chips might be the ideal way to soak up all the beer, Theo was on his hands and knees, looking under the bed.

  “What are you doing?” Beatrice asked, exasperated.

  “Checking for bugs,” Theo replied, in a stage whisper.

  “God give me strength,” she groaned and picked up the phone to make her order.

  She all but forced him into the shower where he sang lustily about what sounded like red ribbons and a motorised tortoise. When the water stopped, she knocked on the door, opened it a few inches and handed him a bath robe.

  The food arrived and Theo fell on it as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. Between mouthfuls, he spouted some gibberish about the news programme of which Beatrice
could make no sense. Finally, his head began to droop over the remains of his dinner. She opened the balcony door just a touch for some fresh air, made him a cup of coffee, placed a bottle of water beside his bed and left him to sleep it off.

  Despite her conviction she would lie awake all night, Beatrice did fall asleep in the wee small hours and awoke just shy of eight o’clock, feeling rather fresh and ready to tackle the day. She suspected Theo would be feeling precisely the opposite and decided to let him sleep another hour while she checked her emails and sampled the delights of the breakfast buffet.

  She had just sat down with a plate of scrambled eggs, potato cakes and sausages when a sorry-looking sight hove into view. He sat down opposite with a mumbled “Good morning”.

  “And good morning to you too. Dare I ask how you’re feeling?”

  “Better than I deserve to. On a scale of one to ten, how embarrassing was I last night?”

  Beatrice gave him a compassionate smile and gave him her orange juice. “There, drink that. You were on the tipsy side, it’s true, but I bundled you out of the bar and upstairs before you could say anything indiscreet. You’re not a big drinker, are you?”

  Theo shook his head. “No, I’m not and she knew it.”

  “She?” Beatrice gave him a puzzled look. “Is that what you were trying to tell me last night? The TV producer is a woman?”

  He nodded and took a slug of juice. “Päivi Aho is definitely female. Not only did she get me pissed, but she came on to me when I was trying to leave. I was lucky to get away with my innocence intact,” he said, with a sorrowful shake of his head.

  “You poor lamb,” said Beatrice, cutting into a sausage. “Had I known I was sending you after a man eater, I might have gone myself. Go get yourself something to soak up the booze and then I want a full debrief.”

  “So did she,” said Theo. He finished the juice and headed to the buffet table.

  Considering he had spent four hours drinking with the woman, the information he had gleaned from the television producer was patchy and inconsequential. Nothing Päivi Aho had said incriminated herself or her staff, but she had told Theo the editorial angle was to fuel the divide between environmental protesters and supporters of the new nuclear facility. Not only that but the journalist who died at Saturday’s march, Juppo Seppä, had been sacked by Aho herself for his overly sympathetic attitude towards the Gaia Warriors. The third piece of information, which the editor had hinted at but not directly confirmed, was that the violent elements who confronted the security guards had been paid for by ‘parties with an interest in balanced news’.

  “Theo, what you’ve given me is supposition, possible fact and unverifiable allusion. What do you mean when you say she hinted at those plants being on the TV station’s payroll?”

  “If you’d been there, you’d think the same as me. When I mentioned the idea that some protesters were there merely to cause trouble, she batted her eyelashes, did the wide-eyed innocent look and said ‘who would do a thing like that?’ in a little girl voice. She was basically telling me she knew who’d hired those thugs. She’s a nasty piece of work, I’m telling you.”

  They finished their breakfast, both deep in thought.

  Finally, Beatrice broke the silence. “Find out who funds Channel 6. See if you can link its parent company to anyone in government, private enterprise, or any other organisation with influence.”

  Theo made a note on his phone. “On it. Now we’ve both shared all our discoveries from yesterday, where do we go next?”

  “My key concern is Samu Pekkanen’s health.” Beatrice dropped her voice. “We need to ramp up the pressure on anyone and everyone who might have the smallest inkling of where those teenagers are.”

  “And that would be…?” asked Theo.

  “And that would be the CEOs of Scanski Solutions and Baltic Energy Services, as the key people most likely to want protesters off the streets. I also think it possible that if Päivi Aho is dirty enough to stir up trouble at the march, she’s certainly capable of having two genuine protesters kidnapped. In the guise of an exclusive and with police permission, we could give her the information about his illness. That might trigger an attack of conscience.”

  Theo looked sceptical. “I honestly don’t think she has one. Whatever. If you think it’s worthwhile, we could try pressing the emotional buttons of the money men and the TV news management. Something else occurred to me. For some reason yesterday afternoon, I was singing an Elton John song in the shower.”

  Beatrice peered into his face. “I think you need more black coffee.”

  “No, hear me out. This is typical when my subconscious is trying to attract my attention. When I talked to the Gaia Warriors yesterday lunchtime, one of them used an interesting expression. He said Valpuri and Samuel understood the importance of sacrifice. A sacrifice. I wonder …”

  Beatrice studied his face. “You think those young people are actually in hiding? Making a sacrifice in faking the disappearance?”

  “Could be. Although I get the impression not all the Gaia Warriors are in the same place, in terms of political activism. Some come across as more extreme than others. What if the extreme element decided to hide Valpuri and Samu in order to throw suspicion on the energy companies?”

  “That’s a long shot,” said Beatrice. “But if we are pressing buttons, let’s press them all. Why don’t you take Samu’s mother to meet the activists? I can think of no more compelling person to explain the dangers Samu is facing. Meanwhile, also in the spirit of double bluffs, I will talk to Karoliina again. If she takes the threat to the young man’s life seriously, she’ll pass that on to her financial backers. As for the telly people and other media, I’ll need the detective in charge to release that kind of information. There may be a very good reason why they have not yet done so.”

  Theo scratched his chin. “You managed to get the cops on your side? How?”

  “Charm, obviously. That reminds me, I had to sign a confidentiality agreement and they want you to do the same. Otherwise, they will not be able to share their findings with us. Could you swing by the police station at some point today?”

  “Yeah, no worries. Is it OK if I take the car to collect Mrs Pekkanen?” Theo asked.

  “Absolutely. I never want to get behind the wheel of the bloody thing ever again. My track record with driving in foreign countries is the stuff of nightmares. It’s all yours. After I’ve spoken to Karoliina, I’m going to check the street where the missing teens were last seen. Ask a few questions, that sort of thing. When you speak to the Gaia Warriors, will you find out how they got to Saturday’s march? Mode of transport, whether they travelled together, how they carried their placards and so on?”

  “Sorted.” He gave her a sheepish look. “Umm, it’s Wednesday. No stress but should we be thinking about flights home tomorrow? There’s a storm forecast for the afternoon.”

  Beatrice folded her napkin and stood up. “Let’s just see how we get on today, shall we? Right, I’m off to brush my teeth. Check in with each other at lunchtime?”

  “You’re the boss,” said Theo, with a helpless shrug.

  Chapter 17

  Normally when the Helsinki police called a surprise press conference, Päivi Aho watched it live with her team, barking orders at her news gatherers the second any new information came to light. Today, a gut feeling told her to watch it alone. All news is good news, her mentor used to say. Somehow, she had a premonition this was the exception to that rule. She gave her deputy instructions to act on whatever information the police released and locked herself in her office.

  It was a wise move. As she listened to Detective Sahlberg describe the death of Juppo Seppä as premeditated murder by suspected infiltrators of the protest march, the colour drained from her face. A witness had given them a good enough description to create a photofit of the two men they were seeking in connection with the journalist’s death. Instantly, her phone rang.

  On seeing the name on her screen,
she hesitated, fighting the urge to disconnect the call, in the full knowledge she had no choice but to answer.

  “Change tack. Major feature expressing shock, sympathy, outrage at the loss of a colleague. Get footage of his reports, eulogies from anyone who worked with him and focus on his integrity. Send a cash donation to his widow on behalf of the whole company and arrange a huge wreath to be delivered to the funeral. The tone should be deep sadness and journalists all over the world should be entitled to do their job without fearing for their lives. As for the…”

  Päivi interrupted. “Really? That’s going to look like we’re making a U-turn so fast we’re burning rubber. I sacked Juppo because the stupid bastard had genuine integrity. On top of that, you paid those thugs to stir the shit. Isn’t there the slightest whiff of hypocrisy here?” Her deputy rapped on the glass door and she sent him away with an aggressive hand gesture.

  The voice continued, ignoring her points completely. “As for the missing teenagers, we offer a reward. If murderers have wormed their way into a well-meaning group of young people, those passionate young voices cannot be silenced. Throw the weight of the entire channel behind this and from tomorrow, make them the main story. We get the whole of Finland rooting for them.”

  She thought about his words. “Ah, I see. Then miraculously produce them like rabbits out of a hat?”

  “We could only do that if we knew where they were. And I don’t.” There was a long pause. “Do you?”

  She placed her palm over her eyes. “Of course I don’t know where they are. Unlike you, I report the news, I don’t make it. You should know there’s a private detective sniffing around.”

  “Yes, I met her already. Nothing to worry about there.”