“And Pentti Vainikainen was a member?” Ursula asked impatiently. Pihko glanced at her in irritation. He didn’t want anyone to ruin his performance. “Yes, but that isn’t the key. The important thing is that Fit & Fun donated significant sums of money, about three hundred thousand euros, to the Finnish Field Sports Fund four years ago when it was founded, and then that money was placed in fixed-term accounts to collect interest. This connection interested me, of course, and I looked up the charter documents in the register of associations. The founding members were Pentti Vainikainen, Juhani Linkosalo, who died a couple of years ago in the Swiss Alps in a skiing accident that appears to have been a genuine accident, and Kari Laakkonen, who is one of the principal shareholders in Fit & Fun. Pentti Vainikainen was the chairman of the fund’s board since the beginning, and Merja Salminen was named the board secretary at the first annual meeting. The board also includes two other members, who are Fit & Fun customers. They’ve met once a year for a general meeting, and according to the bylaws, six members plus the chairman must be present in order to form a quorum. As we’ve investigated this case, however, it’s become apparent that those other two board members didn’t even know such an organization existed. Pentti Vainikainen also donated forty thousand euros to the fund when it was founded, which was money he’d inherited just prior. That’s pretty strange, given that the very next year he took out a large mortgage with Merja Salminen, who is now his widow. According to the organization’s charter and bylaws, the purpose of the fund is to distribute stipends to Finnish field athletes, but so far, they haven’t awarded any, instead focusing first on growing their capital, and that’s been going well, since at the beginning of the month they had nearly five hundred thousand euros in their accounts.” Pihko paused, and then he smiled at me.
“The treasurer of the fund is named as Unto Lohi, who heard about the organization for the first time when I contacted him. He had no idea he was on the board of anything. But only one person has ever had the right to sign for the Finnish Field Sports Fund or access its account: Pentti Vainikainen.”
“So the fund is a straw man?” Puupponen said. Koivu stood up to make coffee, apparently believing that a guest with such important news should be served something.
“That’s how it looks,” Pihko said. “I don’t really know how cognizant Pentti Vainikainen was of any of this. It may be that he didn’t connect the dots until recently. The fund’s accounts were emptied on Sunday of last week, two days before his death. Almost half a million euros have disappeared like dust in the wind. Well, into a Swiss bank account we don’t have any way to access.”
“Did Vainikainen empty it?”
“It was emptied out online using Vainikainen’s log-in. He had the only one.”
I felt even more confused than before. If Vainikainen had been mixed up in a money-laundering scheme, then the use of explosives familiar to Afghan terrorists wasn’t out of the question. But someone had blown up Jutta’s car after Vainikainen was already dead. Could Jutta have known about the Field Sports Fund? Or did someone just think she knew about it? What the hell was going on?
“I only have one request,” Pihko said. “I know that you want to solve your case as soon as possible, but I also want to nab Kari Laakkonen. He has links to many other money-laundering fronts, so this would be a really big score for us. I’d like to ask you not to interrogate him yet.”
“What do you mean, ‘yet’?”
“Maybe in a day or two. We’re on the verge of breaking this thing wide open. That’s why it’s important that this doesn’t leak, especially to the media. If Laakkonen finds out that we’ve figured out what Fit & Fun is up to, he might start destroying evidence. When we’re ready, you can have him on a silver platter. Agreed?”
I wondered if I should consult with Taskinen. Then again, I had the authority to make agreements with Pihko. And besides, he had gone out of his way to share his information with us, so why not return the favor?
“Has the name Tapani Ristiluoma come up in your investigation?” Koivu asked.
“No,” Pihko said. “There’s no Fit & Fun member named Ristiluoma.”
I asked the same question about Jutta Särkikoski, and the answer was negative again, as it was for everyone else who had been at the MobAbility campaign launch after-party.
Were financial malfeasance and the connections between MobAbility and Fit & Fun Jutta’s big scoop, the one she was protecting her source for?
“What about Merja Vainikainen?” I asked. “Have you interviewed her? If she’s the board secretary, she must have been aware of what was going on. Did she sign the general meeting minutes?”
“I haven’t seen any meeting minutes, just the incorporation documents sent to the register of associations and the bank statements I had to fight the Helsinki District Court to get. You violent-crime detectives have it easy. When you conduct interviews, you rarely have a truly intelligent person on the other side of the table. White-collar criminals are a lot more challenging to match wits with.”
I guessed that meant Pihko wouldn’t be too interested in filling in as commander of the Espoo Police Violent Crime Unit. Thankfully that wasn’t my problem.
“Who wants more coffee?” Koivu asked. I definitely didn’t. I called Merja Vainikainen’s number, but she didn’t answer. How much had Merja known about what Pentti was up to?
The conference room door opened again, and now Jyrki Taskinen entered. He was also happy to see Pihko but turned down the coffee and chocolate cookies Koivu tried to press on him.
“The safe house is all set up. I’ve arranged for transport tomorrow at twelve o’clock. Will you inform the subject? You know her better.” Taskinen gave me a look that said I had little choice in the matter, but a quick stop by the hospital might do me good, so I had no reason to object. I wanted to clear my mind, and a little time alone would help. Did someone have a bicycle here at the station they could lend me? It was a clear fall day, and it would be wonderful to coast along the bay and watch the flocks of geese gathering in the sky.
But Pihko was headed to Pasila, and he volunteered to drop me off at the hospital if I could leave right away. I asked Ursula to take the Field Sports Fund files to the IT office and assigned some other quick tasks before rushing off with him.
“If you can get those files open, will you send me copies?” he asked as we climbed into his car.
“Of course. How connected is Fit & Fun to organized crime? Could they have a connection with someone from Russia with experience setting car bombs?”
“Some of the drugs and women come from Russia but not all of them. We’ve only been handling the financial side, but Narcotics is involved as well. It isn’t easy to collaborate with them, since they always seem to be fighting amongst themselves about their procedures. I’m most interested in the fraud side, less so in how they got the money. We’ll have to see whether there’s enough evidence to prove the procurement charges. Why are you asking about Russian bomb makers? Do you think a professional took out Ristiluoma?”
“It’s possible. Perävaara hasn’t been able to get any tips on the bomber.”
“If Perävaara is in the dark, then the situation must be bad. It takes a lot to stump him. How are you enjoying being back on the job?”
I replied with a weak smile. Pihko drove through Tapiola to the West Highway. I looked at the Waterfall Building on the right as we passed. Puupponen was on his way in the afternoon to interview Satu Häkkinen, the one who Anneli Vainio claimed had been infatuated with Tapani Ristiluoma. If we thought of the poisoning and the car bombing as two separate and unrelated crimes, then Häkkinen would have a spot on the list of suspects for Ristiluoma’s murder. But would she have access to someone who knew how to build a bomb, or know how to build a bomb herself? That seemed unlikely, but we had to check every possibility. It was an established fact that 99 percent of police work was wasted effort, but we rarely knew ahead of time which 1 percent would turn out to be the right lead.
My phone rang just as we were crossing the final bridge into Helsinki.
It was Outi from my real job as domestic violence researcher. We’d agreed that she would check my e-mail and let me know if there was anything that I needed to respond to personally. She was calling to let me know that she’d forwarded a couple of e-mails to my personal account. I’d have to wait to read them until I got home or back to the station. It was hard to believe that I’d only been working this case for six days. It felt more like six weeks.
A terrier yapped as it frolicked in a pile of leaves in the yard of Töölö Hospital. I knew the guard on duty and said hello.
Jutta was already sitting up and reading one of the books Leena and I had taken from her apartment.
“Hi! I thought you were the nurse or an orderly. Lunch will be here soon. I’m starting to get my appetite back, and I could really go for some good pasta or some roasted vegetables. I must be recovering.”
“Great! We’ve arranged you a place in a safe house—I can’t promise you gourmet, but at least you can look forward to a change in diet. You’re being moved tomorrow.”
“A safe house? Where is it?”
“We’ll find out tomorrow. Tell your parents you won’t be able to contact them for a while. But don’t worry, we’re close to solving this. This is all just precaution. You may not be in danger anymore,” I said, then filled Jutta in on what we’d discovered about the car accident.
“Miikka Harju! That can’t be right! He’s such a nice guy. So you’re saying the crash wasn’t intentional?” Jutta clutched her blanket.
“He swears it was an accident. The Lohja police are interviewing witnesses. Maybe someone will be able to back up Miikka’s story. I haven’t heard from them today.”
“Is Miikka in jail?” Jutta looked bewildered. “I swore I would take revenge on whoever hurt me and stole more than half a year of my freelance wages. But now that I know it was Miikka, I can’t even be angry. Strange.”
“Miikka is still free.”
“He isn’t behind any of these other attacks, right?”
I decided to tell Jutta about Pentti Vainikainen and the snus. When she heard that Vainikainen had been the intended victim, Jutta went white. I’d expected her to be relieved, but she was anything but. Instead she began to shake.
“Have I messed everything up?” she said, seemingly to herself. “But Pentti didn’t even know about the e-mail. Of course the sender didn’t know that Pentti hadn’t read the message, because it was probably deleted immediately . . . Would the sender have sent it again? Why didn’t I think of that?”
“Jutta, what the hell are you talking about?” I said, interrupting her muttered monologue. “What e-mail? Does this have something to do with your source?”
Jutta let out a small cry and put her hand to her mouth. There was panic in her eyes. I continued pressing her.
“So your source wouldn’t have hurt you, but he could have killed Pentti Vainikainen? Is that what you mean? Don’t start blubbering. That isn’t going to help!” I snapped like Ursula would when Jutta’s eyes began to well up. “You’re going to tell me who your source is right now, and then I’ll decide if anyone else needs to know. If you really want to go to that safe house, the time to talk is now!”
Jutta went silent. I felt like standing up and walking out of the hospital and out of her life. How had I ever gotten mixed up in this case?
An orderly appeared with a food cart, but Jutta claimed she wasn’t hungry. The young man left the tray anyway. When I saw the chicken fricassee and blancmange, I understood why she had no appetite.
“OK, Maria, I’ll tell you,” Jutta finally said. “But you can’t get her in trouble. Or me either. The e-mail with the information about Sami Terävä and Eero Salo selling doping drugs at a gym in Helsinki—”
“Fit & Fun, right?”
“Apparently you’ve already gotten pretty far! Yes, that’s correct. The e-mail was addressed to Pentti Vainikainen, sent from a member of the club. It was intended to warn him and the federation about Salo and Terävä’s doping, in the hopes that Pentti would be able to intervene before another scandal erupted.”
I didn’t understand. Had Pentti Vainikainen been Jutta’s source? No, that didn’t make any sense. Why would he have wanted to burn his partners at Fit & Fun? Jutta must have noticed my confusion, because she continued.
“Pentti never received the e-mail. It was forwarded to me and then destroyed.” Jutta grimaced painfully and then forced herself to continue. “You’ve met Merja’s daughter, Mona, right? I did a story about her once, and we e-mailed every now and then. In the spring of last year, her eating disorder was getting out of control, and Merja and Pentti were trying to get her a bed in a treatment facility. Mona interpreted that as Pentti wanting to get rid of her so he could be alone with her mother. To get back at him, she went through his e-mail, looking for something that she could use to hurt him. She found the doping e-mail and forwarded it to me. I’m sure you understand why I was protecting my source. My source was Mona.”
20
“Did Mona have a habit of using her stepfather’s computer without his permission?” I asked Jutta, once I’d recovered from her startling admission. Jutta said she didn’t know. Was it possible that Mona had figured out Pentti Vainikainen’s log-in information for the Field Sports Fund accounts and transferred the money to Switzerland? Could she have somehow opened a bank account in a foreign country?
“Was the relationship between Mona and Pentti strained?” I asked. Merja Vainikainen had stressed that, given the circumstances, her daughter and her husband had gotten along well, but of course she would have said that if she wanted to protect Mona. Could Mona have poisoned Pentti to get rid of him before he could send her away? It would be easy for someone living in the same household to spike his snus with nicotine, but what about the sandwiches? As I understood it, eating disorders were often the internalization of anger or aggression, common among people who felt helpless or out of control in their lives. But someone being mentally ill didn’t mean they were a murderer. I remembered Mona’s withdrawn face and the bleakness of her black room.
“I don’t know. Mona didn’t tell me much about their relationship. After that one interview, Mona e-mailed me but not very often. Now I’m ashamed to admit it, but at the time I was annoyed by her e-mails. I didn’t know how I was supposed to react. I’m a reporter, not a mental health professional. But I did reply. I tried to be nice to her.”
“Did you save the e-mails? What did she write to you about?” Jutta said she’d deleted the e-mails almost immediately after receiving them. After the accident, they’d stopped coming. From what she could remember, they’d just been typical teenage venting. Mona was bullied at school, and Jutta encouraged her to tell her teachers or her mother, but Mona refused.
“Maybe I was shirking my duty by not following up. I was shocked when I saw her later on at Adaptive Sports. She looked so . . . old, or something. It wasn’t just the extra weight. It was that she seemed to have absolutely no desire, like she didn’t even want to be alive. I don’t believe that she would have wanted to hurt me, though. And anyway, she wouldn’t have the strength for it.”
That was all Jutta could tell me. I would have to see Mona and Merja Vainikainen immediately. Maybe we wouldn’t need to move her to a safe house after all. Maybe none of this had been about her.
I told Jutta I had to leave, then ran outside while scrolling through my phone for Merja Vainikainen’s number. I called her as soon as I passed through the hospital doors. The first call went straight to voice mail, so I redialed. The third time, I got through. Her voice was tense.
“You can’t contact Mona right now. I finally got her into the hospital. I finally convinced them that this is a life-threatening situation, that she could very well gorge herself to death. Pentti’s death has pushed her even further off balance.”
“Where is Mona now?”
“At Lapinlahti Hospital in Helsinki, at
the eating disorder clinic. Only her father and I can contact her. I beg you not to upset her. This is already hard enough!”
“Did Mona have a habit of using your husband’s computer?”
Merja was silent for a long time. I tried to listen for sounds in the background, but all I could make out was a faint buzzing. Was she at work, or was she at home, finally able to mourn her husband now that others were caring for her sick child?
“I couldn’t monitor Mona every moment,” Merja eventually replied. “Theoretically she was going to school—it was her first year of high school—but I don’t think she ever went. Hardly any of her old friends go to her new school, and I doubt she’s made any new ones. I don’t understand how a young person’s life can go so wrong . . .” I heard tears in Merja’s voice, but I continued anyway.
“Did Pentti ever mention that someone had broken into his computer?”
“Do you mean his home computer or at work? What is this about?”
Instead of sharing the details of our investigation, I asked whether she was at work. I could come to meet her. I had to talk to her about this Field Sports Fund thing, even at the risk of word making its way back to Kari Laakkonen.
“Yes, I’m here. Life must go on. You can come by anytime. I’ll be here at least until five. By the way, when will Pentti’s body be released? It would be a relief to know when we’ll be able to bury him. People are asking.”
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