“We’re going to test your clothing for explosives residues,” I said. “If the tests come back clean, you will be free to go. You’re going to have to stay here overnight.”
“But . . . I didn’t . . . I didn’t have any reason . . .” he sputtered and then began to shake his head. Ursula had the sense to keep quiet while Terävä arranged his thoughts. “So my cousin and Pentti Vainikainen are both dead,” he finally said, as if to himself. “And the police think that I had something to do with it. Now I’ve heard fucking everything! Are you ladies crazy? I’m just trying to live my life. I’m planning to compete again once my suspension is over! Why would I make everything even worse?” Terävä stood again and started for the door, but Ursula stuck out her long leg. He stumbled, and I grabbed his wrist and wrenched it behind his back. I hadn’t grappled with anyone in years, and if Terävä had really tried to get away, I would have been no match for him, but Ursula was there to help. And Terävä wouldn’t have made it far anyway, because the next door was locked, and the guard would have been waiting for him even if he did manage to slip out of the interrogation room.
“Should we cuff him?” Ursula asked and, to my surprise, pulled a pair of handcuffs out of her breast pocket. My investigation kit was upstairs in my office, but apparently Ursula was always prepared to make an arrest.
“Are you going to behave yourself?” I asked, and Terävä nodded. I released my hold, and Ursula followed my lead. Terävä shook himself like a dog after swimming.
“Seriously . . . I’ve got really bad claustrophobia. The guys always laugh at me because I never take the elevator. I’d run up the stairs at the Olympic Tower if I had to. Please. I’ll go nuts if I have to be in a cell overnight.”
“Do you have an official diagnosis?” Ursula asked coldly. When Terävä said no, I considered our options. Terävä did have motive to kill Jutta Särkikoski, so I wanted him screened for explosives, and that couldn’t happen until tomorrow morning. And we couldn’t let him go before the samples were taken. When Terävä realized we wouldn’t relent, he began to struggle again, and Ursula’s handcuffs became necessary after all. I asked the guard to give Terävä a sleeping pill if he wanted it. I then gave instructions to release Terävä as soon as the samples were taken, and to let him know that I was issuing a temporary travel ban.
“Let’s check his cell phone and those prescriptions too,” Ursula suggested as we were about to head back upstairs.
I asked the guard for Terävä’s belongings, and we pulled on exam gloves. The painkiller prescription was in his wallet, along with a bank card, an athletic club membership card, a bus pass, twenty euros, and a few coins. Apparently Terävä didn’t carry any keepsakes around. He hadn’t worn a watch. In addition to the wallet and phone, Terävä’s shoes and jacket would also be tested. Ursula looked at Terävä’s cell phone with interest. I reminded her that we didn’t have a warrant to inspect his call records yet.
“That is such a stupid law. It only makes our job more difficult. Shouldn’t the police be able to automatically check everyone’s phones, contact lists, calls, messages, and stuff like that when investigating a crime? Plenty of us do it anyway—we don’t have time to deal with the pointless bureaucracy. And then there’s all the prepaid burner phones, which we can’t do anything about.”
I didn’t bother answering. When Ursula had joined our unit five years before, I’d chalked up her excesses at least partially to inexperience, but she didn’t seem to have mellowed, despite her years of service.
We left Terävä’s belongings in Holding and headed back upstairs to our floor. As we were leaving, Ursula’s phone rang, the ringtone a familiar male voice:
“It’s Kristian, baby. Answer the phone.”
Glancing at me, Ursula lifted the phone to her ear. I didn’t hear Kristian’s replies, but I could infer plenty from Ursula’s half of the conversation.
“Hi, honey. No, I’m still at work. Yes. Longer and more complicated. I don’t know what the boss is going to want me to do next. But I’ll come when I can. I have a key. Mmm . . . kisses!”
I knew Ursula meant for this cooing to annoy me, but I found the entire situation immensely amusing. No way Kristian would have been so brazen as to give Ursula a key to the home he and his wife shared. Apparently the Ljungbergs were at least separated. I didn’t bother to ask Ursula for the gossip.
On the stairs, I bumped into my old friend Katri Reponen, the prosecutor, whom I hadn’t had time to inform about my change of employment. Katri worked in the same building, in the Espoo District Court, and in previous years we’d often handled the same cases. She was currently specializing in family law, so our collaboration had continued during my research project. A lot of lawyers considered family law a fluff specialty, and the group who handled those cases only included one man—who had been forced into the position so the grumbling about men always getting steamrolled during divorce proceedings didn’t grow even louder.
“Hi! I was just looking for you! Why didn’t you tell me you were back? I had to read about it in the paper,” Katri said. I was surprised at her outfit, a violet sweat suit and gym shoes, but I didn’t say anything. Usually Katri was more the two-piece suit type, at least on trial days.
“I didn’t have time. I’ve been swamped. Do you want to get some tea?”
“I wish I could, but yoga is about to start. Have you heard our department started a yoga club? We just got a new chief judge, who thinks the whole thing is nonsense. We’re waiting for him to disband the group. Come try it out. You look like you could use some stretching and calm breathing.”
I admitted that was true, but I didn’t have time, and my mind was in overdrive. There was no way I’d be able to relax.
Back at my office computer, I found three e-mails from Perävaara. The first was a public relations plan. We would hold a joint press conference the next morning at ten o’clock at the Helsinki police station, as long as that fit with my schedule. Could I be there half an hour early? I quickly scanned through the other messages, which mostly reiterated that, so far, they hadn’t identified the explosive or pinpointed its location in the car. The third e-mail was a summary written up by one of Perävaara’s subordinates about the eyewitness testimony they’d collected, which basically said that in the Sports Building it had been business as usual, and no one had seen anyone crawling around under any of the cars in the parking lot or anything else out of place. Behind the parking lot was a forest with a walking path, and someone could have come from that direction too, but the area around the building itself was so open that going unnoticed would have been nearly impossible.
I replied to Perävaara about the press conference and let him know about Terävä’s detainment and that we would be testing him for explosives residues. I received a quick, happy reply.
Good. At least we have one arrest to tell the media about. See you tomorrow.
I heard Ursula talking on the phone in the other room, still dealing with arrangements for Ristiluoma’s remains. The digital news had reported the explosion and said that all train traffic toward Turku was delayed due to technical difficulties.
That reminded me of our Turku suspects. I’d completely forgotten about Ilpo Koskelo and Toni Väärä. They’d been in the metro area today too. I wasn’t certain whether they took the first train back to Turku after their interviews or not. Maybe one of them paid a little visit to the Sports Building. Or maybe both of them.
12
When I finally got home, Taneli was already asleep. Iida was still up reading, so I sat next to her on her bed for twenty minutes. She wanted to know why my work situation had changed so suddenly, and since she was eleven, I could almost tell her the uncensored truth. And besides, she’d already seen the headlines and the tabloids.
“Do you like investigating murders?” Iida asked. Deciding how to answer wasn’t easy.
“I wouldn’t say I like it, but it’s necessary. We can’t let killers run free.”
“Does it
scare you?” The gaze of her brown eyes was intense. Iida had inherited them from her father. Slowly I stroked her hair, which had become greasier when she began puberty.
“Not exactly. I know my job has risks, and I’ve been in danger a few times.” I hadn’t told Iida about the time I’d been pregnant with her and had to flee a murderer armed with an ice skate across the rink where she now trained. “We’re all trying to solve this set of crimes as quickly as possible, and then I’ll be home more. Dad will take you guys to practice tomorrow.”
“Will you even be here for dinner?”
I didn’t dare promise anything, so I just wished her a good night.
Antti sat in the living room with a book and a glass of wine. Venjamin had climbed into his lap. I went and poured myself a glass too, and then we talked through practicalities. He was still a little aloof, which wasn’t at all surprising. My sister-in-law and my mother had called—they both stubbornly continued calling our landline—and asked what on earth I was up to. My personal cell had been on silent all day, so they couldn’t have reached me that way anyway.
“I have to be up before seven tomorrow. If you want to sleep longer, you’ll need to go to the guest room. Or I will,” I suggested once I’d drained my glass. I’d begun to feel sleepy.
“No, we’re going to sleep together. Otherwise I won’t see you at all,” Antti replied.
I sent my mother a text message telling her not to worry. In bed, I tried to focus on my book, but it was no use, and I turned the lights off as soon as Antti joined me.
“How are you doing?” he asked and wrapped his arms around me. I pressed my face against his shoulder and smelled his familiar, slightly salty scent.
“I’m fine. I’m staying unattached,” I said, knowing as I did that I was lying to both Antti and myself. I knew that I’d been ordered to be a cop, so I needed to think like a cop, and now I had to sleep so I’d be able to deal with whatever came my way tomorrow. The Maria who lay in Antti’s arms did not belong to the police station, but the woman who went there tomorrow must be fully committed to the role of homicide detective.
“Do you have a gun?” Antti whispered.
“No. We’re handling it so that I won’t need it. Let’s sleep now.”
Antti kissed my cheek. It was good to fall asleep in his embrace. In the night, I woke up to Taneli padding into our room. Nowadays that was extremely rare, but it felt good when he curled up between us. I could smell the shampoo in his hair. When Venjamin settled down at my feet, the bed was more than warm enough.
In the morning, I left the family to sleep and paid a visit to the Espoo station to leave instructions for my team and inform them that our morning meeting would be at eleven instead of nine due to the press conference. I considered leaving the car at the station and taking the train to the Helsinki suburb of Pasila, but the transit schedules didn’t work out right. Thankfully it was Saturday morning, so there was plenty of parking at the Helsinki headquarters.
It felt like an eternity had passed since my stint in the Helsinki PD. That assignment had included my first lead on a homicide investigation. My boss at the time had been a hopeless drunk, and everyone had tried to cover for him. These days that wouldn’t fly, since tolerance for drinking in the workplace had diminished considerably. As I understood it, Lieutenant Kinnunen had taken a disability pension about five years ago and then ended up in the ground soon after.
The police station in Pasila felt foreign. The building had been remodeled since I last visited, so I had to ask directions to reach the right room. Oddly enough, the building smelled differently than when I’d worked there. I’d always had a good memory for smells, and now the unfamiliar scent confused me. It was the same on the floor where the Violent Crime Unit was housed. The walls had been painted, and everything seemed strange. Eventually I found a door with a sign that said “Perävaara” and knocked on it.
Detective Perävaara looked like he hadn’t slept since I’d last seen him. Compared to him, with his stubble, wrinkled shirt, and red eyes, I must have looked downright perky. But there was nothing lethargic about my colleague’s brain function, and his team had managed to interview the majority of the people working at or visiting the Sports Building the day before. People were helpful, especially since the attack had been directed at someone who worked in the same building.
“Almost everyone in the building knew who Jutta Särkikoski is and that she is currently working there. Some of them even knew her car. The head of the Fencing Association, whose car was right next to Särkikoski’s yesterday, said he’d known whose car it was when he parked. His vehicle was also totaled in the explosion. Maybe not everyone liked the fact that Särkikoski was working at Adaptive Sports. Apparently, there had been some grumbling about it in the weight-lifting wing. But only a few people knew Ristiluoma, mostly the Athletics Federation folks because he was Pentti Vainikainen’s occasional golfing buddy.” Perävaara yawned and scrolled down in his file. “I sent these interview documents to you, but I bet you didn’t have time to read them this morning, right?”
“Right. I slept until a luxurious 6:45.”
“You’ve picked up bad habits since leaving the police. I spent the night in the lounge down the hall. Anyway, a few people claimed they saw someone sneaking around Särkikoski’s car, but we’re still checking on that. A couple of our detectives are going through the tapes from the security cameras at the building entrances, but so far, they haven’t found anything. The terrorism and explosives task force think we may be dealing with something as simple and accessible as TATP. Theoretically you can even make it at home, but it’s pretty unpredictable stuff. A lot of terrorists use it, and professional criminals.”
“Is it possible to use it to make a bomb that goes off when you start a car?”
“As I said, it’s a pretty unpredictable substance, so offhand I’m thinking no. We’re going to talk to a few folks who’ve messed around with it before, and we’ll see if they can give us any insight. One of our detectives is also looking in the online message boards for any clues. How about at the press conference, I talk about the bomb, and you answer questions about the victim and the car, OK?”
“Great.”
“Do you know much about where Särkikoski’s car has been the past few days?”
“It’s mostly been in the parking lot at her apartment building. No cameras there, unfortunately. She doesn’t have a garage, just an engine heater plug spot. And anyone could have asked the Bureau of Motor Vehicles for her license plate number.”
“You interview the neighbors, since Särkikoski lives in Espoo. Are you also considering the possibility that Ristiluoma really was the target? As I understand it, Särkikoski has cheated death twice now. Maybe she set the trap herself.” Perävaara noticed my expression of disbelief and laughed. “Don’t you suspect everyone and everything anymore? Paranoia is our number-one occupational hazard. Or did you recover from that during your leave of absence?” I didn’t have time to correct his characterization of my departure from the police before he stood up. “I’m going to go clean myself up. My wife gets on my case if I look like a slob in press photos, not to mention my mother-in-law.”
After he left, I thought about what he’d said. Was it possible that the car accident and the death threats had messed up Jutta to the point that she’d started taking out the people she thought were threatening her? Jutta seemed frightened but not insane, and she’d been injured in the blast too. What if this was a case of Munchausen syndrome? Maybe Jutta missed the attention she’d gotten during the doping case and after her accident, and now she was trying to recapture the spotlight by faking threats against herself? I shook my head—there had to be some limit to our paranoia.
About ten minutes later, I got a text from Koivu, letting me know that Terävä’s tests had come back clean, so they’d let him go.
“Ready to face the lions?” Perävaara asked from the door. I looked up from my phone. A shave, a shower, and a clean shirt had wo
rked miracles on him. He must have even put concealer on the bags under his eyes, because the skin there was a normal color again. The glasses he wore hid most of the redness in his eyes.
“Let’s go. You can start.” Perävaara took me by the arm but released me well before we stepped into the briefing room.
Naturally the room was crowded. Bombs didn’t go off in Helsinki every day. I declined to name the hospital Jutta Särkikoski had been taken to for treatment, but I did say she was under constant guard. Hopefully the person I was looking for followed the media. Perävaara and I both appealed to the public for useful information. Puupponen would check the tips that came in and investigate any possible connections between Perävaara’s list of known bomb makers and our suspects. Perävaara’s presence next to me was reassuring, and he immediately shut down one of the crime reporters when he asked about the possibility of a serial killer. I remembered that Ursula had just finished profiler training. Those skills might be useful in this case after all.
As I drove back to Espoo, I felt satisfied that the collaboration between the Espoo force and the Helsinki force was going smoothly. Perävaara had the same troubles I did: he’d promised to take his kids to the face-off between the two rival Helsinki hockey teams, but the case had to come first.
On the way, I called Töölö Hospital. The nurse on duty told me that it had been peaceful overnight, and no one had tried to see Jutta Särkikoski. Her condition was good, given the circumstances, and I would be able to interview her later that afternoon.
As I exited the freeway, I looked wistfully at a jogger on the sidewalk. It looked like the day would be sunny for a change, and I longed for fresh air. The fall colors were at their best, the birch trees blazing yellow and the aronia bushes full of striking red leaves. With its white facade, the Espoo police station looked like an animal that had donned its winter coat too soon.
Inside, my team was already assembled in the conference room, Koivu with his customary cup of coffee and Ursula wearing an abnormally restrained pantsuit and only two-inch heels.
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