“Thanks for the heads-up! Terävä can wait for a while. If you have enough guards, take him downstairs to one of the interrogation rooms to wait. If not, keep him in a cell. See you soon!” I hung up and turned to look at my team, then announced that it was time for a summary. Ursula and Puupponen had just returned from Pasila too.
“The initial analysis suggests a bomb with a combination of a timer and a contact detonator. So it was set to go off after a certain time at the first touch,” Ursula said. “That means this wasn’t a complete amateur job.”
“What was the explosive?”
“Don’t know yet, but probably not your basic dynamite. They’re doing a full search of the area, and supposedly this will get priority over everything else. Plenty of people wouldn’t mind an explosion at the Parliament building, but the Sports Building is a holy shrine. That’s where they hatch the plans for winning gold medals, even though you don’t see an athlete like Tero Pitkämäki walk through the doors every day. He’s too well-behaved for my taste, even though his body is fine,” Ursula said. She seemed remarkably calm, given that she’d nearly been the first on the scene of the explosion and had had to provide first aid to Jutta Särkikoski. I hadn’t even thought to praise her for how well she’d handled that.
“The Helsinki boys stayed behind to interview everyone with a window facing the inner courtyard, but they aren’t going to have any luck. Mark my words. My guess is the bomb was placed in Särkikoski’s car last night. Wasn’t the meeting at the Sports Building arranged just this morning?”
“Tapani Ristiluoma called it.” I walked across the room to switch on the electric kettle. Even a bag of Lipton tea would be better than nothing at this point. Ursula continued her report. Apparently, she’d also gotten along very well with Detective Perävaara. I told the team about my conversation with Jutta and the other things I’d found out during the day, like Hillevi’s theory about how the poison ended up in the bread rolls. That made Ursula roll her eyes.
Puupponen had contacted the fire station where Miikka Harju had worked before his supposed back trouble began. He’d arranged meetings that evening with a few of Harju’s former coworkers, on the condition that they weren’t out on a call. Puupponen had learned that Harju was from Parikkala near the Russian border and had attended the Emergency Services College in Kuopio before getting a job in Hyvinkää and then Espoo, apparently following the girlfriend who eventually left him.
“Ristiluoma didn’t have a family of his own. Ursula, will you look into his extended family and any new girlfriends when you have time? But first come with me to interview Sami Terävä after this meeting is over.”
“What about me?” Koivu asked, seemingly surprised. He’d probably assumed he’d be the one to go with me.
“You’re going home to count your children,” I replied. Koivu looked even more surprised, and Ursula cried out.
“I’d forgotten that you always favor those with families! Recharging is just as important for the rest of us. Is Anni going to turn out like this after she has her kid too?”
“How do you know about Anni’s pregnancy?” I replied angrily before I realized that I’d just let confidential information slip. Ursula smiled triumphantly.
“I was right. It doesn’t take a genius. First there were the appointment reminders on her desk for the fertility clinic, then her crying fits, and now the puking in the women’s restroom. It’s been like working with an alcoholic. What the hell kind of drive to reproduce controls you two? Taskinen should have given this case to me to lead, then we wouldn’t have to schedule the investigation around nap time!” Ursula crossed her arms and stared defiantly at Koivu.
“No one is forcing you to have children,” Koivu said. “And I can stay at work.”
“No, you go home and see Juuso,” I said sternly. “If you die tomorrow, you won’t regret not being chosen as police officer of the year or never visiting New York City. You’ll regret that you didn’t play table hockey with your son. Get going! We’ll meet tomorrow at nine unless you hear different from me. And Ville can head off to play cards with the firefighters. Or . . .” For a moment I considered the possible dynamics of the situation, but Puupponen had already made the appointment, so I couldn’t replace him with Ursula. “And keep your traps shut about Anni’s pregnancy. The department gossipmongers already have enough to talk about.”
“Does she have more than one baby on the way?” Ursula asked, but Puupponen told her to give it a rest, and to my surprise she did. The men then beat a hasty retreat.
“Let’s go deal with Terävä. You can take the lead,” I said to Ursula. “I’m just going to drink this tea first. Although I guess I can have it on the way,” I said and poured hot water in a cup and threw the tea bag in. I took a sip. The flavor experience was just as terrible as I’d imagined. You would have thought that during a century of tsarist rule, the Finns could have learned the art of tea making.
Terävä was still in cell number six because there weren’t enough personnel to guard him in an interrogation room, the guard on duty explained to us. He left for a minute, then returned with a man who, at first glance, looked far too short and narrow-shouldered to be a discus thrower. In her heels, Ursula had a couple of inches on him.
Sami Terävä had brown hair that reached his shoulders, along with a carefully shaped mustache and pointed beard. His rings would have made a nice collection for a table at a flea market, and he had enough necklaces and piercings that it must take him several minutes to prepare to go through an airport metal detector. The guard hadn’t found it necessary to take his jewelry, maybe thinking Terävä couldn’t have hurt himself much with it anyway.
We sat Terävä down in Interrogation Room 1, and Ursula recorded his personal information on the tape. Sami Kalevi Terävä was born on May 2, 1984, in Vantaa. He worked as a sports-field maintenance technician and lived in Tikkurila in a Vantaa city rental apartment. Terävä had less than a year remaining on his competition ban, and by his own account was in constant training.
“Why did you drag me down here? I don’t have anything to do with spiking those sandwiches.”
“When did you last have contact with Jutta Särkikoski?” Ursula asked and leaned over the table toward Terävä. I moved my own chair farther back into the shadows so Terävä couldn’t see my face well, only Ursula’s.
“I haven’t been in contact with her at all! Why would I?”
“Do you have a prepaid SIM card for your cell phone?”
“No! I don’t have anything to hide from anyone. Eero Salo and me got fines for possession and sale of anabolic steroids and a two-year ban on competition for using performance-enhancing substances. Is that really enough to make me murder someone?” Terävä looked around in agitation. According to Jutta, Terävä was the less intelligent half of the pair, but it was likely neither of them was the brains of the doping operation. Someone else had orchestrated it. Still, Terävä had coped better during his competition ban than his supposedly more intelligent companion.
“Why were you allowed to keep your job after your conviction?” The clicking of Ursula’s nails on the table was familiar and irritating, and for a moment it felt as if three years had been erased from my life, and I would never be able to extricate myself from the Espoo police.
“What does my work have to do with doping? I have a job with the City of Vantaa, and I’ve always done it well! I guess the federation probably spoke in my favor. Pentti Vainikainen might have called the sports-program manager at the city and asked them to give me a second chance. Everybody makes mistakes. Pentti was a good man, and I never would have done anything to hurt him. You’re crazy if you think I did. Can I please have something to drink? I haven’t eaten or drunk anything since breakfast.”
“You just said you handled your job well,” Ursula said, completely ignoring Terävä’s request. “But today you didn’t show up to work. Why is that?”
“I was at the doctor. I think I tore my left trap, so I went t
o get some anti-inflammatories. I have to be careful about what I take if I want to be able to compete. Can I have some water? The pain meds make my mouth dry. I’m supposed to take them three times a day. I can do that in jail, can’t I?”
“What doctor did you visit? And why were you at the Tikkurila train station instead of on your way back to the sports park?”
“It was the company doctor! I got sick leave. All the prescriptions and receipts are in my bag—the other cops took it when they brought me in here. At least tell me why I’m here!”
Ursula didn’t answer him, instead slowly turning her chair toward me. “What do you think, Lieutenant, shall we give this turd some water? Otherwise he might take us to the European Court of Human Rights.”
“Coke good for you, Terävä?” Those were the first words I’d said since introducing myself. Terävä nodded, and Ursula left the room after marking the time of the pause in the interrogation on the tape. Once the door closed behind her, Terävä turned to me.
“Are you that one’s boss? Tell her I was at work at the field all last Tuesday. Lots of people can back me up, like half the elementary school students and teachers in Vantaa. They were having a track meet, and I was superbusy all day. I was moving equipment around, and I even had to tape one little boy’s sprained ankle. I never could have gone down to Espoo.”
“Repeat that for Sergeant Honkanen and the tape,” I managed to say before Ursula returned with a bottle of cola and a pitcher of water. Terävä opened the drink and chugged greedily. His thirst wasn’t an act. Then he repeated his statement for the tape, but Ursula didn’t react in any way. Terävä’s alibi would be easy to check, since he was well-known at the Tikkurila sports park.
“Did you threaten Jutta Särkikoski after she exposed you? Did you send her letters?”
“No!”
“Postcards?”
“Not that either.”
“E-mails or text messages?”
“I didn’t send her a fucking thing!”
“Did you call her?” Ursula continued her bombardment. Terävä shook his head at this last suggestion. It was as if the soda affected him like water would a wilted flower: he now seemed more confident and aggressive than thirsty.
“I haven’t had anything to do with that bitch! What would I gain by it? Somebody tipped her off, and we got caught. I should have known it would happen. Everyone uses; the Russians and the Americans and the others just have better drugs. We just need to invest in better technology and hope we can finally clean up the sport.”
“Well, aren’t we righteous now? Druggies like you are treated far too leniently in Finland. In Italy doping gets you sent to prison. You said Särkikoski got a tip. From whom?”
Terävä drank more of his Coke, and Ursula asked her question again.
“Ask Särkikoski how much she paid for her information, and to who.” Terävä looked Ursula up and down as if to evaluate how far she would let him push it. Ursula immediately responded.
“You’re just trying to change the subject. You don’t know who talked to Särkikoski. Otherwise you would have told in your interrogation.” She glared at Terävä as if he were a rat she’d found in her pantry. Terävä looked away, then directed his next words to me.
“I didn’t threaten anyone. Believe me! Of course I was pissed that someone I trusted blabbed to Särkikoski, and yes, we know who burned us. But what good would it have done to name names when we were still claiming that we were innocent?”
“Which was idiotic, since the evidence from your samples was so clear.” Ursula smiled sardonically. “Anyway, why not out the person who exposed you to Särkikoski? Are you planning to take revenge later, when everyone’s forgotten about the scandal?”
Terävä stared at Ursula in shock. “I’m not going to take revenge on anyone. He was just shooting his mouth off. He didn’t realize Särkikoski was a reporter. At least that’s what he said.”
“Did it cross your mind that a newspaper might pay good money to know who ratted you out?”
“But they wouldn’t pay! There wasn’t enough evidence, and he claimed Särkikoski already knew. The newspaper people just laughed at me.” Terävä appeared genuinely offended.
“Whoever turned you in did the right thing anyway. What about your partner in crime, Salo? Maybe he was sending your mutual friend Jutta Särkikoski little notes or calling her at night.”
Seeing his opportunity, Terävä responded bitterly.
“I’m not sure about Eero. Throwing was all he ever had in his life. Maybe he did make some calls to Särkikoski from the last pay phone in Nokia—even he wouldn’t be so stupid as to use his own phone. If he even has a phone anymore. He probably pawned it to buy more beer at the pub. He has friends there who think he’s a good guy despite the drug bust. We haven’t been in touch much lately.”
“That Coke really seems to have loosened your tongue. Are you saying that Eero Salo threatened Jutta Särkikoski?”
“No.”
“So this is just your courageous attempt to shift the blame to your friend.” Ursula tsked. “So manly of you. What did you think about your cousin working with Jutta Särkikoski?”
“What do you mean? Why would I think anything?”
“Isn’t thinking one of your strong suits? If not, what is? Explosives?”
The consternation on Sami Terävä’s face seemed genuine, and I started to get the feeling that interrogating him was a waste of time. Salo’s and Terävä’s alibis at the time of Jutta and Toni’s car accident had been checked, and there’d been abundant evidence that they had been far away from that particular road.
“How close is your relationship to your cousin Tapani Ristiluoma?” Ursula intentionally avoided using the past tense.
“Tapani? We’re eighteen years apart. His mom is my mom’s oldest sister. She never really cared much about her relatives. The Ristiluomas were higher class than the rest of us, according to my other aunt. I saw Tapani sometimes at sports events, but we don’t have much in common. If you’re asking whether I ever dropped by his office to say hi, the answer is no. His mom died about a year ago, but none of us cousins were invited to the funeral. I think maybe my mom went. After I got busted, Tapani didn’t exactly advertise that we were related. He joked that we barely even had the same blood flowing through our veins, since I’d diluted mine with so many other things.” Terävä drained his soda and crushed the can between his hands. “But I wasn’t using EPO, just steroids, and they grow your muscles, not your blood-oxygen uptake.”
“Were you ever offered an opportunity to participate in a new biomedical training research project?”
I’d been expecting this question from Ursula. When Terävä asked what that even meant, I guessed that he hadn’t been promising enough for anyone to invest in expensive doping technology for him. Eero Salo had been the more successful of the two. As I remembered, Terävä’s greatest accomplishment had been fourth place in a Finnish junior nationals meet. In the adult men’s division, he’d placed fifth in the last Kalevala Games, while Salo had taken the bronze medal, although there had been a ten-meter difference between the number-one and number-two performances.
“What research project?” Terävä asked again, but Ursula didn’t respond. In court, Salo and Terävä had sworn up and down that no one knew about their doping. They’d had different trainers. They’d only become friends because they’d been in the army sports league at the same time.
Exhaustion had begun to creep over me. Ursula finally began to press Terävä about his exact movements during the day. He said that he’d woken up at around six with significant pain in his shoulder and had taken the last over-the-counter pain medication he could find in his medicine cabinet. Since the occupational health clinic opened at eight, he called and set an appointment for nine. It didn’t occur to him to notify his workplace because there wasn’t much going on at the field in the morning besides physical education classes from the local schools. After visiting the doctor, Teräv�
� went to Helsinki and “just hung around.” According to the receipt, he picked up his prescription at the pharmacy on Three Smiths Square at 12:37.
“The police tried to call you, but you didn’t respond to their messages. Why?”
“My battery was almost dead. I was saving it for really important calls.” Terävä grinned.
“So you were in Helsinki. Did you stop in Pasila, perhaps at the Sports Building, to say hi to old friends?”
“No! I jumped on the 5:21 train to Tampere. Yes, I know city passes aren’t good on those trains, but no one ever checks tickets before Tikkurila. There’s your crime. I confess. Can I go now?”
“When did you last see your cousin Tapani Ristiluoma?” Ursula asked.
“I don’t remember! Not since the beginning of my suspension, at least.” Terävä stood up, but Ursula’s voice stopped him midmovement.
“You’re not going anywhere. We’re going to test you again.” Ursula should have asked me first about taking samples from Sami Terävä to test for explosives residues, but his account of his day was undeniably vague, so there was good reason for heightened scrutiny. And we did have Taskinen’s miracle budget, so the cost was no issue.
“What the hell do you mean?” Terävä sat back down, then turned to me. “OK, sure, maybe you’re going to find more painkillers than I was prescribed, but who cares? I didn’t drive a lawn mower, let alone a car today. I don’t have anything to do with that poisoning. Two hundred people can testify that I was in Tikkurila—I wasn’t anywhere near Espoo!”
At this point I thought it only fair to tell Terävä why he’d been detained. “Your cousin Tapani Ristiluoma was blown to bits in the parking lot of the Sports Building while trying to start Jutta Särkikoski’s car.”
I’d rarely seen anyone go so white. It was as if even the color of Terävä’s eyes dimmed, and all his self-confidence instantly disappeared.
“Tapani . . . What? He’s dead?”
“My condolences.”
“He was killed instantly,” Ursula said. Terävä looked back and forth between the two of us.
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