I opened the ventilation window to check the weather. Chilly and a light fog. From the window, I could see the building across the way and folks going about their morning business. At one window, a guy in his undershirt was taking the last puffs of his cigarette. Then he stubbed it out on the window sill and flicked it into the street.
Outside, I breathed in the damp air and buttoned up my coat. An opening car door flashed at the left edge of my field of vision. I instinctively turned to look.
“Kafka!”
The person yelling was Klein, the head of security from the Israeli embassy. I walked up to his car.
“You have time for a coffee?”
We headed over to the Primula Café at Viiskulma. Klein ordered us a couple of coffees and sat down across from me.
He didn’t look nearly as competent as his position demanded. His eyes were bloodshot and he had a cold.
“I want to apologize for stepping on your toes. I was trying to help. I was the one who called Sillanpää; he was just being friendly. Don’t blame him.”
I sipped my coffee and let Klein talk.
“After you and I met, I started thinking about things. I was in touch with Jerusalem yesterday and asked the police there to look into Ben Weiss’s background. It looks like I painted an overly rosy picture of him.”
I raised my eyebrows a little.
“Weiss really does have a fur company, and he reported business as the reason for his trip. However… the police in Jerusalem informed me that the tax authority has been looking into Weiss’s affairs, and he’s suspected of tax fraud and money laundering. And according to tip-offs the police have received, he also has connections to certain major-league drug traffickers, who in turn have a lot of contacts in the Russian mafia. You’re aware that a lot of Jews have moved from Russia to Israel. There are criminals among them, and unfortunately they often continue their illicit activities in their new homeland.”
“So Weiss wasn’t here to buy furs?”
“That’s what it looks like. I’ll be honest, someone in Israel screwed up. We should have been informed about Weiss so we would have known to look out for him… we believe he was supposed to pay for a drug shipment on behalf of some criminals who live in Israel. The tax authority conducted an investigation of Weiss’s corporate accounts, and it revealed that payments made to them lead back to certain shady enterprises. They’re linked by a complex web of sham companies.”
“What do Weiss’s drug deals and terrorists like Saijed and Bakr have to do with each other?”
“We’re not sure. We have two theories. We know for certain that Tagi Hamid used and probably also dealt drugs. Maybe that’s how he and Weiss ended up working together. Tagi Hamid used at least amphetamines and heroin. It’s not easy being a terrorist; it’s tough on the nerves.”
I encouraged Klein to continue.
“Could be that Saijed or Bakr or both found out about things somehow, flew off the handle, and killed the two of them. The simple fact that Hamid was in contact with a Jew could have been enough to make men like Saijed and Bakr suspicious, especially since they were planning a terrorist attack at the time. In their minds, Hamid had made an unforgiveable mistake that put the whole strike at risk.”
“Are you sure they were planning a strike, or is that a guess?”
“The Israeli security service received certain information about the weapons and explosives. We also know with one hundred per cent certainty that Tagi Hamid has procured weapons from Russia – the kinds of weapons that are only suitable for terrorist use.”
Klein took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his running nose.
“I’m sorry. I was out on the Baltic fishing with friends and caught a cold… Another possibility is that Weiss was kidnapped because the kidnappers discovered he was a rich Jewish businessman. Weiss had a lot of money on him, hundreds of thousands of dollars. The money’s missing. He was killed because he was Jewish. For guys like that, it would be three birds with one stone: take a Jew’s money, kill him, and then use the stolen money to buy weapons to kill more Jews.”
“There’s only one but,” I noted. “We’re not even sure that the guy who got hit by the train was Saijed and that Weiss’s killer was Bakr. Neither one has been identified yet.”
My phone rang. It was Huovinen.
I stood up and stepped a few yards away. Klein tried to look hurt.
“Where are you?” Huovinen asked.
I told him.
“That Murak Laya who’s being sought for the explosion in Vantaa just turned himself in at HQ. He’s in custody.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I went back to the table and tried to remember what I was saying before Huovinen’s call. Klein was faster.
“According to the information we have, they are Saijed and Bakr. The source is extremely reliable. Saijed and Bakr have worked together before, and both of them left Denmark at the same time. According to our source they came here. We’ll be happy to offer you expert assistance in identifying the deceased, if that’s acceptable to you.”
“I was under the impression that you don’t have any fresh photos of them, not even fingerprints.”
“We have our methods.”
“One more thing about the latter theory. If Weiss’s murder was political, how come no one has exploited it?”
“Because things went awry and one of the kidnappers died.”
“And the man who was with Weiss?”
“You mean Dan Kaplan, or Josef Kayly, the name he was going by here?”
“What do you know about him?”
“Please understand that this is extremely embarrassing for us. In principle, Israel protects her citizens tooth and nail. We believe that Kaplan is involved in Weiss’s death. If the first theory holds true, he was here protecting the interests of the Israeli criminals. If the latter theory is true, he was in on the kidnapping and helped Israel’s worst enemies… You Finns have a fitting saying for this. The one about the goat and the cabbage patch.”
“The goat guarding the cabbage patch.”
“That’s the one. Kaplan was like the goat guarding the cabbage patch.”
“Isn’t he in the service of the Israeli army?”
“Was. A few years back, the army discovered some cases of weapons theft. Kaplan was implicated, but they couldn’t gather sufficient evidence of criminal activity against him. Nevertheless, he was forced to leave the army. After that, he set up a security company with a dodgy reputation.”
“Do you have an idea of why Tagi Hamid’s cousin Ali was killed then?”
“Maybe he had got mixed up in the drug dealing or the kidnapping and once Tagi botched things they didn’t trust him any more. Wasn’t the burnt car his or rented by him? Another possibility is that Bakr, Saijed or Kaplan didn’t want to split Weiss’s money with anyone else.”
“Do you know where Kaplan is?”
Klein sneezed again.
“No. We’ll do anything we can to help the Finnish police apprehend him, but he’s a tricky bastard… and he has a lot of contacts from his army days. The Jerusalem police have been tailing him for years, but they’ve never caught him red-handed.”
“We’ve checked every hotel in the Helsinki area. Neither Kaplan nor Weiss stayed at any of them. Do you know where they were staying?”
“I’m afraid not.”
I considered how much I could reveal to Klein. Then I decided I didn’t have anything to lose by rattling his peace of mind a little.
“Weiss had business dealings with a Jewish fur trader, he consulted a Jewish lawyer, and Weiss and Kaplan used a car that was stolen from a Jewish antiques dealer.”
“Blood is thicker than water. You know that Jews prefer dealing with Jews.”
“Why did they have to steal the car?”
“Because they were involved in criminal activity. Maybe they heard about Oxbaum’s van and trip by accident.”
“I never said that the stolen van was Oxbaum�
��s.”
Klein looked at me almost sympathetically. It annoyed me, because it reminded me of my brother Eli when he was a move away from checkmate. It made me want to get my butt kicked by him the old-fashioned way rather than lose the game.
“It’s part of my job to be on top of things like that.”
“You know everything else, but not the things that would help us.”
“We’ll get Kaplan as soon as he returns to Israel.”
I reminded Klein that that wouldn’t do us much good, because Israel doesn’t extradite its citizens.
“We can still question him, and maybe even allow the Finnish police to interrogate him. If he was mixed up in Weiss’s death, he will definitely be prosecuted. Israel is a democratic state and operates under rule of law, the only one in the Middle East,” Klein added.
“I want a recent photo of Kaplan.”
“I’ll try to get you one.”
Observing my reaction, Klein asked: “Is it true that Kaplan was your childhood friend?”
I answered in the affirmative.
“What about nowadays?”
“He’s a criminal suspect I’m looking for.”
Klein glanced at his watch.
“Unfortunately I have to get going, I have a meeting with the ambassador… we sincerely hope that Bakr is found and apprehended prior to the visit of our foreign minister. I hope you’re taking this seriously enough; he’s a dangerous man.”
Klein rose, and so did I.
In the doorway, I asked him casually if any Mossad agents were still in Finland.
“No… Why would they be?”
I don’t know if the question surprised Klein, but nonetheless, he hesitated for a second.
“I didn’t do anything wrong. I lent my car for a couple of hours. Is that a crime?”
Laya was on the verge of crying. He hugged his arms around his chest and tried to pull himself together.
“I loved Taina. If I had known, I would have gone myself…”
A stream of tears rolled down from the corner of one eye. I didn’t doubt that his grief was genuine.
Murak Laya was a small man a little over thirty. His hair was short and curly. He was sitting on a concrete bed in the lockup at headquarters. Stenman and I had been interrogating him for almost an hour. Simolin and Oksanen were on the other side of the wall, listening to the interrogation through a speaker and immediately verifying anything they could.
According to Laya, this is how it had all happened:
Laya knew Tagi Hamid. They had met at an establishment frequented by Arabs and hung out there together on a few evenings. Hamid had a lot of money, so he treated. When Hamid had moved to the apartment on Toinen Linja, Laya had helped out with his car. A week ago, Hamid had explained that an important friend of his might need a car for a few hours and asked if Laya would agree to rent his in exchange for good compensation. Initially Laya had been hesitant, because he suspected the car would be used for criminal activity. Hamid had laughed and promised that there was no danger of that. Laya had eventually given in, and Hamid had told him that someone would be in touch if his friend ended up needing the car.
The day before yesterday, Laya had received a phone call. The caller was a man and spoke French. He had asked Laya to drive the car to a certain spot in Kallio and tape the keys to the bumper. The caller promised to return the car to the same place and leave the fee in the glove compartment. And that’s exactly what had happened.
The caller hadn’t given his name, and the number had been blocked. After seeing Hamid’s photo in the paper and hearing what had happened at Linnunlaulu, Laya had panicked and tried to think what he should do. He had told his girlfriend about lending the car, and she had demanded that he contact the police.
“What was your girlfriend doing at your apartment?”
“I asked her to pick up the car and then come get me. The keys were inside the apartment.”
“Why didn’t you pick it up yourself?”
“I was at work.”
“Where?”
“The paint plant… in Vantaa.”
“Let’s forget the car. Hash and amphetamines were found in your apartment.”
Laya grew grim. Perhaps he thought that the drugs had been destroyed in the explosion and subsequent fire.
“They were only for my personal use.”
“And a sub-machine gun and grenade shards. The investigators believe that one of the grenades exploded or that there was a home-made bomb inside the apartment that exploded and detonated the grenades. The question is whether the bomb exploded by accident or on purpose.”
Laya looked genuinely surprised. For a moment, his mouth actually hung open.
“I don’t have a sub-machine gun or any bombs or grenades. I hate weapons. The people who planted the bomb also planted the gun. Maybe they want you to believe I am some kind of terrorist or big-shot criminal.”
“Who are they? Who are you talking about?”
Laya almost lost his temper. “Don’t you understand – the same men who killed Hamid, or else then it was the man who borrowed my car.”
“What do you know about them?”
“Nothing. I read about it in the paper. I’m not stupid, I don’t believe it’s a coincidence.”
“You also dealt drugs to Hamid. You’d think you’d know at least something about his business partners.”
“No, I didn’t. I lent some to him a couple of times, but I’m not a terrorist. I left my own country to get away from violence. I hate it. I’ve lived here seven years, and Finland is my second homeland…”
“You lent him drugs?”
“He didn’t have any money and he said he was going to be getting some and a big load of amphetamines and hash. He promised to give it all back to me… he had once before…”
“Was it because of drugs that someone killed Hamid and tried to kill you?”
Laya thought for a second.
“I’m positive that it all has to do with Tagi. He was always afraid that something would happen to him. He said that if he held on to a few good cards, he might live. He never said who he was talking about.”
“What did he mean by good cards?”
“Some kind of important information.”
“And he didn’t say what?”
“No, but once he met someone and he asked me to photograph the meeting. I took a picture when they met at Kaisaniemi.”
“When?”
“About two months ago.”
“Where’s the picture?”
Laya wiped a tear from his cheek.
“At Taina’s place.”
“That still doesn’t explain why someone tried to kill you. How would anyone have known about the photo?”
Laya’s voice rose to a shout: “I don’t know, I’ve been racking my brains, but I don’t understand! I’m not some mafioso, I’m a normal man who has only done some small-time stuff.”
“What if Tagi told someone about the photograph, and about you too?”
“Why would he? He was afraid.”
“Did he tell you who he was afraid of?”
“One time when we had done some hash, he said something, but at the time I thought he was just babbling. He told me how someone thought he was so smart, but that he would scam all those Jewish bastards. He said that if the bait is good enough, you can use it to hook however big a fish you want.”
“Jewish bastards?”
“Or he actually used a nastier word.”
“Moshe manjak?” I suggested.
Laya was surprised. “You understand Arabic? That’s exactly what he said.”
“You suspect that he was involved in the drug trade with some Jews?”
“Yeah, but I’m not totally sure. He was always so careful, so careful.”
“What about his cousin Ali, the one who owned the body shop? Was he in on it?”
Laya nodded.
“I think Ali funded the business. I was along once when Tagi got half a kilo of
hash from the body shop… I don’t know where it came from.”
“Many kilograms of plastic explosives and heavy weapons were found at Tagi’s place. Could Tagi or Ali have been planning a terrorist attack?”
Laya wiped his eyes as if he were drying tears, but he let out a laughing sound.
“Tagi? He always said that he couldn’t give a shit about religious stuff, live and let live, as long as he can live the way he wants. For him, the good life was a beautiful woman, a new Mercedes, and a nice house on the beach. He wanted to live comfortably and party. Ali was the same way, went to the mosque to pray, but money was always the most important thing. Men like that can’t be terrorists.”
Laya’s girlfriend’s apartment was in Tikkurila. We entered with the keys Laya had given us. The photo was there where it was supposed to be, in an envelope taped to the bottom of the breadbox.
The photo had been taken at Kaisaniemi Park. It was summer, and the greenhouse at the botanical gardens could be made out in the background. The men were standing next to each other, talking. One of the men was Hamid. The other was even easier to identify: Dan Kaplan. It had been ten years since I had seen him last, and now I was running into him everywhere.
“Why did Hamid want the meeting with Kaplan to be photographed?” Stenman wondered.
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe Kaplan was in the narcotics business with Hamid and figured he could blackmail him with the photo if necessary.”
I looked at the picture thoughtfully.
“Laya said that the photo was taken two months ago. We don’t have any information indicating that he was in the country then. He must have been travelling on false documents,” Stenman continued.
I was starting to believe that Dan was no longer the man he was when he left Finland. Still, it was hard for me to imagine him dealing in drugs. I could only think of two reasons why he would have met with a drug trafficker like Tagi Hamid in Finland without contacting his friends or relatives.
Klein had said that Dan had been forced to resign from the army for stealing weapons. Dan had said basically the same thing in slightly different words. I didn’t believe either of them.
Nights of Awe Page 18