Nothing but the Truth hh-3

by Jarkko Sipila

  Her thoughts turned to school. Her homework was done, but she still had to study for tomorrow’s English test. Mom had said she could stay in theater as long as she kept her grades up. Her thoughts returned to theater. On Saturday, her mother was taking her to see the new musical at the Helsinki City Theater, for which they had bought tickets back in August.

  The glue thing had been weird, as was Mom’s court appearance. But they had talked it over enough that neither incident bothered her anymore. The director’s positive feedback on her performance made her feel like skipping.

  She didn’t notice the dark-colored car until it was nearly upon her. It slowed just abreast of her and kept pace. She glanced over, unable to tell whether anyone but the driver was inside.

  Laura felt panicked and she quickened her gait. The car did the same. “Laura,” said a man’s voice. “Stop. It’s the police.”

  Laura thought for a moment before stopping. The car stopped too and the driver’s window rolled down. A hand emerged with an envelope.

  “I was bringing this to your mother,” said the voice. “Could you please take it to her?”

  Laura stepped closer to the car and took the envelope. On the front, the words MARI LEHTONEN were scrawled in marker.

  The window slid up and the car zoomed off.

  Laura was confused, but she continued on her way home. Still ten minutes to go.

  Their 1930s seven-story building was situated at what used to be the end of the number 3 streetcar line, just opposite Porvoo Street 21, the site of the murder.

  Laura dashed up the stairs. The new lock was still stiff, but she got it open. “Hi,” she hollered from the door.

  “Have you eaten?” asked mom from the kitchen.

  “What do we have?”

  “Pork sausage soup.”

  It wasn’t really her favorite. She hung her parka on the entry hook and went into the kitchen with the envelope.

  “Some policeman gave me this. It’s for you,” she said, handing over the envelope.

  Mari stopped stirring the soup and took it.

  “What policeman?”

  “I dunno. I was walking home past the ice rink and this car pulled up.”

  “What car? A police car?”

  “No, it was smaller. I didn’t see what kind.” Her mother’s grilling was making her wonder.

  “How do you know it was a policeman?”

  “That’s what he said. It wasn’t?”

  “I don’t know. But how many times have I told you not to talk to strangers?”

  “Well, he just handed it over and took off. What is it?”

  Mari was still holding the envelope. She took out a kitchen knife, neatly cut open the flap, removed the letter and began to read.

  “What is it?” said Laura. “Why are you shaking?”

  Mari didn’t respond. The letter was terse: THAT’S HOW EASY IT WOULD BE.

  The paper slipped out of Mari’s hand. She felt like screaming, but no sound came. She sunk to the floor and leaned back against the kitchen cabinets, her whole body seeming to tremble. She wrapped her arms around her folded knees.

  “What’s wrong, Mom?”

  “Sweetie…uhh…my phone, please.”

  Laura dashed back into the entryway.

  CHAPTER 19

  THURSDAY, 8:25 P.M.

  PASILA POLICE HEADQUARTERS

  Takamäki glanced around the VCU conference room where Suhonen, Kulta, Kohonen, Kannas and a couple of men from Lieutenant Kafka’s division had gathered. Kafka’s men were currently on duty, and had come to listen to the briefing in case they were called to help.

  “Okay, let’s get started,” said Takamäki. The briefing was primarily intended for Kafka’s men. “I’ll run through the key points of the case first so we’re all on the same page, then we can talk about how to proceed.”

  The others nodded.

  “A single parent by the name of Mari Lehtonen recently testified against Risto Korpi. I’m sure everyone is familiar with Korpi’s gang?”

  “Yeah,” answered Kulta, and the others nodded.

  “Good,” said Takamäki. “Well, this Lehtonen testified that she saw Korpi waiting in the car while Esa Nyberg shot Tomi Salmela back in September. The trial was yesterday, and everything went smoothly. Since the verdict, we’ve had two incidents. Today, either late morning or early afternoon, somebody filled her door lock with super glue, and about an hour and a half ago, a man claiming to be a police officer gave Lehtonen’s daughter Laura a letter as she was walking home along Western Brahe Street. The letter said, ‘that’s how easy it would be.’ Clearly referring to kidnapping the girl. Right now, Joutsamo is at their apartment and we have a patrol posted at the entrance of the building. Last I heard, the situation was secure.”

  “How are they doing?” asked Kulta.

  “According to Joutsamo, they’ve calmed down. Just watching TV, but Mari is definitely scared, which is rubbing off on her daughter.”

  “So Joutsamo’s spending the night?”

  “Yes, same with the patrol. Kannas, what’d you find out about the paper and the marker?”

  Forensics had done a quick analysis of the threat letter. “Standard 20-pound stationery. Same stuff you see everywhere. We found some fingerprints, but they all belonged to the mom. The envelope was also standard store-bought stock, and no fingerprints. As far as the marker, it was more felt-tip pen than marker. One-millimeter line width, which is about consistent with a Text Mark 700.”

  “With a what?” asked Kulta.

  Kannas pointed to the flip chart in the corner, which held three different-colored felt-tip pens on the tray. “Those. Garden variety markers.”

  “So not much to go on, then,” said Takamäki.

  “Right… But the envelope was apparently sealed with moisture-sensitive adhesive, not the peel-and-stick type. If that’s the case and somebody licked it, we can get the DNA. Same thing with the envelope itself if it has any hairs or sweat drops. We sent the envelope and letter to the NBI’s lab for further testing with a rush on it.”

  “Good,” said Takamäki. “Sounds like we could get somewhere on that.” Still, they’d need a matching DNA sample on file. And of course, the envelope could have been sealed with water. “Anybody have anything else?”

  “So the girl didn’t catch the plate number?” said Kulta.

  “Nope.”

  “I can look for the car on the surveillance cameras in the area,” said Kulta. “Unless there’s a better idea.”

  “Sounds good. Check the database for any cameras on Brahe Street, but be sure to look further out, too. The suspect was probably trailing her all the way from the theater academy on Haapaniemi Street.”

  Suhonen’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and excused himself from the conference room.

  “Hey,” said Suhonen in the hallway.

  “Hey,” said Salmela.

  “What’s up?”

  “This is kind of a strange thing, but there’s a lot of buzz going around about this Mari Lehtonen.”

  “What kinda buzz you talking about?”

  Salmela paused for a while. “She seems to have found herself on someone’s hit list…”

  “Tell me more.”

  “Well, someone’s got a lotta dime and wants to give her a real hard time. Damn, that was like a poem. Not exactly Tommy Tabermann, but not far off. I oughta pick up the pen…”

  “Stick to the point,” Suhonen snapped.

  Salmela was silent for a moment. “What, something happened?”

  “First tell me what you know. What kind of hard time, and who?”

  “That’s the whole problem. I don’t know whether it’s true or just talk…”

  “Get to the point.”

  “Right. Well, word is you can make some good money for pushing her around.”

  “What kind of pushing.”

  “What do you think? Harassment…threats against the family…that kind of thing. Problem is, word’s goin
g around a bit too much.”

  Suhonen knew what he meant. In that case, it was probably planted. Such a rumor was bound to spread quickly in the bars with everyone wanting to crow about what they knew.

  “What’s your guess?”

  “I dunno. I’m sure there’s some truth to it, but it sounds more like a plant. True or not I figured I’d call.”

  Suhonen thought for a moment. “Well, thanks. All I can tell you is someone gave Lehtonen’s daughter a letter threatening to kidnap her.”

  “No shit.”

  “Nothing happened, but we got our hackles up over here.”

  “No kidding…”

  “And then earlier someone squirted glue in

  her door.”

  “In the lock?”

  “Right.”

  Salmela didn’t respond.

  “Helloo,” said Suhonen after a while.

  “Well, if this someone’s already doing it, then why would they trumpet it all over the place. Unless these things happened because of all the talk?”

  “Good question. Did you have a particular ‘someone’ in mind?”

  Salmela smiled. “Well, someone someone… Isn’t it pretty obvious?”

  “Well, yeah. But still, why all the talk?”

  “Either this someone’s recruiting more guys or he just wants to extend his reach. You know. A little guerrilla marketing, right?” said Salmela, with emphasis on the word guerrilla.

  “Right,” said Suhonen, and he hung up the phone.

  * * *

  Suhonen stepped back into the conference room and waited till all eyes were on him.

  “Well?” said Takamäki.

  “A horse named Champion’s gonna win at the races tonight,” he said with a smile.

  Takamäki looked impatient.

  “So my informant tells me there’s a lot of street talk about getting back at Lehtonen. Even more about her than the best places to steal Christmas presents for the kiddos.”

  The others were not humored.

  “But,” Suhonen continued, “of course there’s another angle. If someone really wanted to get back at her, why would they be advertising it? Might just be a cover.”

  Kulta looked skeptical. “Right, a twelve-year-old girl is being stalked, but it’s just a cover.”

  “My point exactly,” said Suhonen. “If someone actually wanted revenge, they wouldn’t fuck around. They’d just do it-girl in the trunk, a bullet in the brain, and the body in the drink. And mom goes too.

  Right now, it’s all talk, threats and games. Intimidation.”

  Takamäki nodded while the others just stared. “At any rate, the only charge we can work with right now is intimidating a witness. The maximum penalty is three years in prison, which means we can’t use phone taps.”

  “And we have no suspects,” said Kulta.

  “Really?” said Suhonen. “It’s obvious that this is connected to Korpi’s trial, and Jere Siikala is one of Korpi’s lieutenants. If Guerrilla’s not the perpetrator, he’s at least the instigator.”

  “Based on what evidence?” said Kulta.

  Takamäki cut in. “The threshold for reasonable suspicion isn’t terribly high. I won’t open an investigation in Siikala’s name yet, but obviously we’ll have to start looking into his activities. The prosecutor never charged him in the murder investigation, so we can’t use that as a pretense for surveillance.”

  “What about the mom and the kid?” asked Kannas.

  “We’ll have to consult with Joutsamo about that.”

  “Just thinking that a round-the-clock operation like this takes four guys per day, at the least. That’s a lot of manpower…”

  Kulta interjected. “Ever heard of that German prosecutor who lives in a fenced-in bunker with his family? The kids get carted off to school in an armored Mercedes?”

  “There’re plenty of Finnish cops who’ve hung it up because of threats, too,” said Kannas. “Even if the cop can deal with it, the family’s another story.”

  “Let’s think about that later,” said Takamäki. “For tonight, the situation is under control.”

  * * *

  Joutsamo was sitting in a recliner in the living room, while Mari and Laura were on the sofa. An episode of an American legal drama was playing on the television.

  “I’m glad you were able to come,” said Mari.

  “Yeah,” said Joutsamo. Lehtonen had called her in a panic after opening the letter. Initially, she’d had trouble understanding what had happened, but ultimately the extent of the threat had come to light. Takamäki had sent Joutsamo to their apartment and launched some kind of an operation. What exactly that was, Joutsamo didn’t know, and she didn’t want to talk details within earshot of Mari and Laura.

  “Have you guys been following this series?” said Joutsamo, attempting to take their minds off the case. They had already gone over it once, and Joutsamo had assured her that, although it was unfortunate, it was rare and gave little cause for worry.

  “Off and on,” said Lehtonen. “So what happens now?”

  “Well, the Boston lawyer is probably…”

  “No, I mean with our case.”

  Joutsamo smiled. “Pretty soon you guys will go to bed. I’ll be here on the sofa, and we also have an officer posted at the entrance. That’s about it.”

  “And tomorrow?”

  “We’ll talk about that with Lieutenant Takamäki in the morning.”

  “I have an English test tomorrow,” Laura

  chimed in.

  “We’ll have to see about that. It’s possible you’ll both get a day off.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” said Mari, her arms outspread in obvious frustration.

  “That Laura’s not going to school and you’re not going to work.”

  Mari stood up. “I’ll get your sheets.”

  FRIDAY, DECEMBER 15

  CHAPTER 20

  FRIDAY, 7:45 A.M.

  PASILA POLICE HEADQUARTERS

  Takamäki was sitting in the slightly more spacious, but equally joyless office of his direct supervisor Karila, chief of the VCU. Both men were nursing cups of coffee.

  “Shitty deal,” said Karila.

  “It is.”

  “We just don’t have the numbers for an operation like that. It would tie up two officers during the day, one for the girl and one for the mom. Evenings and nights we might be able to make do with one. Once you figure in all the shifts, you get six, seven cops. Or eight if mom and daughter are out separately in the evening.”

  Takamäki took a sip of coffee. He had come to the same calculation the previous evening. “A good ten percent of our entire unit.”

  “Damn right. Of course we can’t just leave them to fend for themselves.”

  “We don’t really have any official witness protection program, but maybe we could rig one,” said Takamäki. “We could get her an apartment in another city and help her get a job.”

  “Wasn’t there some working group looking into witness protection?” Karila asked between sips of coffee.

  “Yeah, but they didn’t come up with anything concrete. Just suggestions due to lack of funding. Nowadays that famous Kennedy quote might go more like: ‘Ask not what you can do for your country, ask what you can not do because of the economy.’”

  “Right.”

  “Besides, we have no idea how long this will last or how serious it’ll be. For now we’ll take it seriously, of course, but Lehtonen is just a random citizen that testified in court, not an informant or a biker trying to get out of a gang.”

  “True,” nodded Karila.

  “The easiest thing might be to send them to a safe house for a few days or a couple weeks. In the meantime, we’ll try to resolve the threats.”

  Karila thought for a moment. “Do you think they can be resolved? If word’s out already, then…”

  “I have a few ideas,” said Takamäki. “First thing we do is put Korpi in solitary, so at least he can’t be doling out orde
rs. And then there’re a few other things…” he said, and listed the alternatives.

  * * *

  An hour later, Takamäki was ringing the doorbell of Lehtonen’s apartment. Joutsamo came to the door in track pants and a white T-shirt.

  “Good morning,” said Takamäki with a smile.

  Joutsamo looked at him dejectedly and raked her fingers through her dark hair. She invited him in and he hung his coat on the hook and went into the kitchen where Mari and Laura were eating breakfast. Takamäki greeted them both and sat down in an empty chair at the table.

  “Let’s cut right to the chase,” he said. Initially, Takamäki had wondered whether he should talk to Mari without Laura present, but the situation affected them both, so Laura’s participation was helpful.

  “Fine by me,” said Mari.

  “The threats against you are being taken very seriously, and we’ve opened an investigation. Your safety is our number one priority. Number two is to stop the threats, and number three is to apprehend those responsible. We strongly suspect that this is related to your testifying against Risto Korpi.”

  “Well, that’s pretty obvious,” snorted Mari. Laura sat beside her, watching quietly.

  Takamäki was unfazed by the comment. “Unfortunately, we have no proof of that. We made little progress on the investigation overnight, but we’re expecting some results from the crime lab today, among other things. But these have to do with priorities two and three. Right now we should talk about number one.”

  “What about it?”

  “How to protect you,” said Takamäki. He had decided not to give her any choice in the matter. “We’re going to have to move you two out of this apartment.”

  “Move?”

  “Yes. Whoever is threatening you obviously knows your address, so it’s not safe to stay here.”

  “So where? And for how long?”

  “There’s a safe house in Kirkkonummi. You’ll get your own room and Laura will have a private tutor. I’ll talk personally with your employer about the situation. I can’t say how long it will be, probably a matter of weeks, but at least until the threat against you has been eliminated.”