Helsinki Homicide: Nothing but the Truth

by Jarkko Sipila

  She turned to look at her daughter, now reading on her stomach with her feet kicked up. Mari felt fairly comfortable—the place was safe, at least. And, for

  once she had time to read. But something still nagged at her.

  She picked up her book again, but was still unable to focus. She tried to pinpoint what it was that didn’t seem right, but came up empty. Her instincts told her that something was wrong. Well, damn right something’s wrong when she and her daughter are holed up in the woods hiding from murderers. But everything would work out, she assured herself. Joutsamo and Takamäki—indeed the entire police force—were on their side and would do everything in their power to protect them. The bodybuilder downstairs would keep them safe here and have droves of cops on the place if necessary. Everything was okay. Look at it like a free vacation, she told herself. Read a few classics and relax. It’s what you’ve always wanted. Kind of like a Mediterranean vacation without the swimming pools and beaches—just a hotel room and a book.

  Mari wasn’t so sure about her attempts at being positive.

  An incoming text message announced itself. Laura gave a passing glance as Mari got up, walked to the coat hooks at the door and fetched her phone out of her coat pocket, but the girl’s attention soon returned to her book.

  Mari read the message—it was from her boss, Essi Saari: Hi. I chatted with the police. Lay low as long as you need. It’s paid leave. Good luck!

  Mari read the message over and over again. Of course she was happy that her employer was being supportive, even promising to pay her, but “lay low as long as you need?”

  Lay low—the wording seemed about as appealing as these four oppressive walls. The rules stated that she could go out in the yard, but no further.

  “Who was it from?” asked Laura.

  “Work.”

  The girl stared at her mom for a while. “You know, this is actually kind of exciting. Kinda like a movie, you know…witnesses hiding out in a hotel room. The only person that ever knocks is room service, except for the one time that the killer comes to the door.”

  “Stop it,” said Mari. Just then, a knock came at the door. Both of them startled.

  “Don’t open it,” whispered Laura.

  The knock came again. Mari shuddered, not that there was anything to worry about—this place definitely didn’t have room service. She slipped the door chain into the slot, unlocked the door and peeked through the gap.

  “Hi,” said a dark-skinned woman with a smile. She looked about forty, wore an afro and had a three-inch laceration running down her cheek. The wound was old enough that the stitches were gone. She spoke with an accent. “I make some coffee. You like some?”

  Mari didn’t know how to react. Were they allowed to speak with others here? The rulebook forbade revealing any personal details. Not even your own name.

  The woman smiled, though her scar made her expression rather gruesome. “I’m Agatha. Come, come. It’s okay. I been here now two months. I know rules.”

  Mari nodded. Agatha, huh? Was that her real name? “Laura, honey. I’m going to have a cup of coffee. I’ll be over in the common room.”

  Laura looked up. “You’re leaving me? Can’t

  I come?”

  “Oh…of course.”

  Laura slipped a bookmark into her book.

  Mari turned and smiled at the woman waiting at the door. “Alright. We’ll be right there.”

  Agatha had apparently put the coffee on before knocking on their door, as it was already waiting when Mari and Laura reached the common area. The chairs and table were a newer vintage than those in the rooms.

  “You have beautiful girl,” said Agatha, her back turned toward them as she poured the coffees at the counter. Laura looked embarrassed.

  “Yes,” said Mari, not knowing what else to say.

  “Does she like coffee?” asked Agatha.

  Mari glanced at Laura, who rolled her eyes as if to say that ‘no, isn’t there any tea?’ Mari shrugged. “No, she doesn’t.”

  “What about tea?” said Agatha, turning to look at Laura.

  Laura nodded with a smile. “Thanks.”

  Agatha returned the smile, took a tea bag from the cabinet, put it in a cup and doused it with hot water from the pot. “It is no worry, but we pay for tea and coffee together. Easier for us if each just pays five euro per week, no matter if we drink tea or coffee. These I will buy,” said Agatha, and she gave Laura her tea. A bowl of sugar was on the table, and Laura added a couple of spoonfuls.

  Agatha sat down at the table and gazed at Mari with her dark eyes. “So…what is your story?”

  Mari hesitated. “I can’t say. The police…”

  Agatha laughed. “Yes, we are not supposed to

  talk. But here you have to. Or you go crazy. We are all here in same boat.”

  Mari wasn’t so eager to break the rules, however, so she turned the question around. “What’s your story?”

  “How long version you like?” Agatha smiled, and she continued without waiting for a response. “I tell you shorter one so your daughter not fall asleep. I am a Turkish Kurd and I come to Finland four years ago with my husband and my daughter. My husband had bad situation in Turkey, and we got residence permit. Life here was quite good. I got a job and Nabila, my daughter…”

  “How old is she?” asked Mari.

  “Six, now.” A flicker of sadness showed in the woman’s eyes. “She is not here.”

  “Why not?”

  Agatha raised her finger and smiled. “I will get to that. A year ago Nabila was in day care, and around same time Hamid get mixed up in some crimes. They steal some things and get caught by the police. Hamid got arrested, but got out quite soon. That starts a big fight. I tell him we have to obey the law for Nabila sake, but Hamid…he is very bitter because he cannot find work. Our fight just gets worse and worse, and so I go to get divorce. It takes forever, but finally the court gives me a divorce and papers to give me custody of Nabila.”

  A pretty familiar story, thought Mari, but she just nodded.

  “Hamid does not approve, so my friend at work told that I should get a restraining order. Well, this does not help much. Hamid just violates it, and they start deportation process because of his crimes. His hatred for me just grows. So I have to send Nabila back home to Turkey to be safe with my mother. When Hamid finds out about it, he tries to kill me. The police came in time, and Hamid goes to jail again. I was moved here because Hamid has many friends, and the police think I’m in danger.”

  “Where did you live?”

  “Savonlinna.”

  Mari was cradling her coffee cup in her hands. “When did this happen?”

  “Three months ago.”

  “And?”

  “Last week a policeman came and said that there is still danger.”

  Laura was quietly sipping her sweetened tea, but she threw in a question, “How is Nabila doing?”

  Agatha smiled. “I think she’s okay. She must wait there until everything is better. That can take some time.”

  Mari looked at Laura, who went on, “Why don’t you go to her?”

  “If I go, I lose residence permit. Things will settle down. Finland is better country than Turkey. I think Hamid will be deported and so he cannot travel to EU countries anymore. And Turkey will not become EU country for many years. After that, Nabila and I can be safe together.” Agatha sipped her coffee. “I have time to wait for what is best.”

  Mari looked at the spruces out the window. Did she too have time to wait for her life to return to normal?

  Agatha’s smile was laden with sorrow. “Of course I miss my daughter, but here, I am like a mother to everyone. It helps me to forget.” She stroked Laura’s hair. “I should tell about the laundry room. There is a list there that tells you…”

  Mari had a hard time listening. Agatha seemed like a nice person, and Mari was glad that she was able to talk with somebody. Still, the woman’s situation made her wonder. For how long shou
ld she be afraid? Was she afraid for her own life or for Laura’s? What if she sent Laura to be with her godmother in Oulu for a few weeks or months while she stayed in Helsinki? On the other hand, she thought, how could she ever be apart from her daughter in the middle of a crisis?

  * * *

  Mikko Kulta yawned. It was exactly four o’clock in the afternoon, and it seemed to Takamäki that fatigue was not a good sign, even if it was Friday. They, along with Suhonen, Joutsamo and Kannas, had gathered around the large table in the conference room.

  With VCU Chief Karila’s help, Takamäki had managed to pass the surveillance of Siikala’s house in Kaarela on to the Narcotics undercover unit, which didn’t have much going on at the moment. In addition to one in the ditch, two others were posted in the parking lot of a nearby office building. More men would be called in to help if Siikala left the house. The arrangement freed up resources for homicide, but had come only on the condition that Jere Siikala was officially named a suspect in Mari Lehtonen’s harassment. Takamäki had decided that the threshold for reasonable suspicion had been met, and had filed for a telephone warrant.

  “Apparently nothing new on Siikala?” said Takamäki.

  Suhonen shook his head. “Been there all day, and still there—I just checked.”

  “What about Mari and Laura?” said Takamäki, turning to Joutsamo.

  “Been there all day, and still there—I just checked,” said Joutsamo. “Mari didn’t feel much like talking. Of course, the most important thing is that they’re safe.”

  “Pretty down?”

  “Sure seemed that way.”

  “Is there anything new?” said Takamäki, scanning the faces.

  “I probed a bit more into Korpi’s organization and got some leads from Nykänen,” said Joutsamo, handing out a stack of copies. “Here are some names of known contacts with phone numbers and addresses. No guarantees on whether it’s up-to-date, though.”

  Suhonen looked over the list. Lots of familiar names.

  “Are we expanding surveillance to include these guys?”

  “No,” said Takamäki. “Not enough manpower. If you start running into them, we can reconsider. But let Anna know if you find more names.”

  Suhonen nodded.

  “Good. Did you find anything in the footage from Brahe Street?”

  “Nothing of any use,” said Kulta. “I saw the girl a few times, but no car that fit the description.”

  “Did you get all the tapes?”

  “Yep. I went through all the cameras that were in the database and drove the route to check for any new ones. Found a few additional cameras, but nothing on

  their tapes. The picture quality at nighttime is terrible.”

  “Okay, at least it was good to try,” said Takamäki, continuing around. “What about the DNA on the envelope. Have we gotten it back?”

  “Nope,” said Kannas.

  “And you put a rush on it?”

  “They promised it this afternoon, but I haven’t heard anything.”

  Takamäki paused. “Lots of work, little result.”

  “Should we take a more proactive approach?” asked Suhonen.

  “Meaning?” said Takamäki.

  “Well, we could spread a rumor that all of Korpi’s money has been confiscated and there’s a mole in his organization. In other words, send a message to stay away from him and his outfit.”

  Takamäki thought about it. There were pros and cons to the idea. “Okay, you can do the bit about the money, but the mole part could be dangerous. Someone might actually lose their life.”

  “Sure,” said Suhonen. “It’d be more effective with the mole part, but I can leave it out.”

  “Good. Seems like we have the situation under control. No new threats. The Lehtonens are safe. Just got word from prison that Korpi is in solitary, so he’s cut off from the outside. So for now we just wait for the DNA and the phone data and keep an eye on Siikala. And spread a few rumors, too. Time is on our side.”

  CHAPTER 22

  FRIDAY, 10:20 P.M.

  TAKAMÄKI’S HOME, ESPOO

  Takamäki was at home sitting at the kitchen table, a towel around his waist, and his hair still damp from the sauna. A half-empty beer stood on the vinyl tablecloth.

  He sifted through a pile of mail from the past week that had never been read: ads from car dealerships and bills, but nothing of any interest. He sipped his beer.

  Takamäki’s wife came down the stairs in a T-shirt and yoga pants. “The boys are asleep.”

  “Good. Kinda early isn’t it?”

  “I guess they had tough practices today. Games tomorrow, too,” said Kaarina. Joonas was fifteen and Kalle was thirteen. The Takamäkis had been married for almost twenty years, after having met at a joint party of police officers and nurses. The parties, popular in the eighties, had paved the way for dozens of cop-nurse couples, some of them still together. In the beginning, the Takamäkis’ rigorous work schedules had created problems, but Kari’s promotion to lieutenant and his wife’s advancement to management had helped to smooth out the wrinkles.

  “How was your week?” asked Kaarina.

  Takamäki shrugged. “Two life sentences, so I’d say pretty good, but…”

  “But what?”

  “But…well…there’s been a threat related to the case.”

  She bristled. “Against you?”

  “No,” he said quickly.

  Several years back, Takamäki himself had been threatened, but he had kept it from his wife to save her the worry. This had created a crisis in their marriage, which they had resolved only after months of tense discussion.

  “Against someone on your team?”

  “Why are you so interested?” said Takamäki, turning the questioning around. Usually she wasn’t terribly interested in his work.

  “I want to know. Tell me.”

  He sensed that she felt like chatting, so he told her the story about Mari Lehtonen’s role as star witness, and how she had ended up at the safe house. He also mentioned the threat against Lehtonen’s daughter, which darkened his wife’s mood substantially. Takamäki finished off his beer and took another bottle from the fridge. Three remained in the six-pack.

  “So what happens next,” she asked. “And I’ll have a beer, too.”

  He grabbed a second beer and handed it to his wife along with a glass. He preferred it straight from the bottle. “Well, the situation is under control for now, so we’ll just wait and see if the bad guys come out of the woodwork.”

  Kaarina was quiet for a while. “Sad story.”

  “Uh-huh,” Takamäki nodded.

  “I mean for the lady.”

  “Right.”

  “In a way, you’ve ruined her chance at a normal life.”

  “What do you mean ruined? We didn’t do anything.”

  “You made her testify.”

  “That’s the law. Witnesses have to testify. Besides, she’s the one who called us.”

  “Well, the law ought to be changed if this is what happens. Society can’t expect people to sacrifice their everyday lives for the sake of some criminal case.”

  Takamäki sipped his beer. “Well, there’s no telling what’ll happen, if anything. It might already be over.”

  “For you, maybe. But this poor woman will be looking over her shoulder for the rest of her life.”

  “Hey, we’ll protect her.”

  “How? By locking her up like the murderer?”

  Takamäki studied his wife. “So it would be better if this Korpi were on the streets dealing drugs and having people killed?”

  “Of course not. But why should this woman serve the same sentence?”

  “Uh-uh. It’s not the same thing. Right now, this safe house is the most sensible and secure solution. Maybe it’ll be weeks, but certainly not months.”

  Kaarina looked him in the eyes. “That kind of an experience can really scar a person. Especially the little girl.”

  “So we should just forge
t about witnesses, right?”

  “It’s a possibility.”

  “Impossibility is more like it. It’s out of the question! Witnesses are far too important. The police need the support of the community that we protect.”

  “But you have to consider the witness and their family before you make them testify,” she went on. “You’ve got phone taps, surveillance, hidden cameras, undercover agents, GPS tracking and who knows what else. Certainly with all that you should be able to build a case well enough to leave innocent citizens alone.”

  “Better yet if the criminals would leave us all alone,” said Takamäki, his annoyance beginning to show.

  “That’s not much of an argument.”

  “What I’m saying is that testifying is a civic duty. The police can’t go it alone—we aren’t some kind of island apart from the rest of society.”

  Kaarina was about to say something when Takamäki’s phone rang. He dug it out of his jacket pocket in the entryway and looked at the screen: Joutsamo.

  “Yeah,” he said, lingering in the entryway.

  “Hi. Sorry to bother you,” said Joutsamo. “The night shift guys called to say that Siikala’s phone records are in. We can get the real-time data on the computer. You want me to go in and check it out?”

  “You at home?”

  “Yeah.”

  Takamäki considered it briefly. “Uhh…probably alright if we wait till morning. But check with Narcotics to make sure the guy is still at the house.”

  “Well, they promised to let me know if he goes anywhere. I haven’t heard anything.”

  “Alright. Let’s talk tomorrow.”

  “Bye,” said Joutsamo, and she hung up the phone.

  Takamäki came back to the table. His wife looked at him inquiringly.