For westbound trains, there had been an express to Turku at 10:35-impossible timewise-and next in line was a local at 12:03, followed by another express at 12:35.
Kulta was almost certain that if the Lehtonens had come to the station, they would have boarded a train to Helsinki. It seemed logical, especially since Kulta didn’t think they were going into hiding. They would have been safer at the safe house. Something else was behind this.
Kulta jotted down the departures, since Joutsamo would ask for them anyway. He walked through the crisp, clear air toward the main building, scanning for surveillance cameras. He found three, all appearing to be trained on the station frontage and the platform.
He reached the entrance to the station and pulled the handle. It didn’t budge. He pulled again before noticing a small sign that read, Closed Sat.
Can’t give up now, he thought. Especially since he’d have to explain everything to Joutsamo. She wouldn’t tolerate disappointments stemming from
lack of effort. There was no hiding it-she could smell indolence from a mile away.
Kulta considered his options. It’d be worth a call to ask about surveillance footage-maybe mentioning “Helsinki Homicide” would carry some weight. But who to call? The Espoo PD? They had jurisdiction here. Or the state railways? The whole case was beginning to irritate him. The surveillance videos were unquestionably the most promising idea. He dialed directory assistance, which connected him with the state-owned railway company. A recording informed him that offices were closed until Monday. For train schedules, he could call the premium-rate number. A call to the security company responsible for the train station ended in a voicemail box.
Just as Kulta hung up, his phone rang. “Yeah,” he answered.
“It’s Joutsamo,” said an irate voice on the other end. “What’s the status?”
“Uhh…” Kulta cleared his throat, knowing he’d already lost. Everything from this point forward would just end up sounding like an excuse, but he explained the events at the safe house and the problems at the station.
“Well, shit,” Joutsamo barked. “Get the footage, then.”
“And how do you suggest I do that?” he barked back. “I don’t even know who the station manager is.”
Joutsamo was quiet for a moment. “Come on Kulta… I’m in Helsinki, for god’s sake. You’re in Kirkkonummi. Gee, I wonder where the station manager might be? Quit fucking around and do
your job.”
“Fine,” said Kulta.
He hung up the phone and cursed, drew his Glock and searched the door for a pane of glass with a break sensor on it. Once he located it, he smacked the glass with the butt of his gun and it shattered. Inside, the alarm began to sound. Damn right, that’s more like it. Security guards, a cruiser and some stiffs from the railway would be crawling all over the place in no time. Kulta stepped back with a smile and slipped out a pack of cigarettes.
* * *
Joutsamo came into Takamäki’s office with a stack of papers.
“What did you hear from Kulta?” said Takamäki. “He find anything?”
“He’s at the Kirkkonummi train station complaining that it’s closed and he can’t get any footage.”
“You’re shitting me.”
Joutsamo smiled. “That’s what I said. I’m sure he’ll figure it out.”
“Let’s hope so. We need that footage ASAP. The million-euro question is whether they’re travelling alone or if someone has abducted them… Still nothing from their phones?”
“Nope, still off. But I did get Jere Siikala’s call data. I found a prepaid extension that made and received a few calls in the Kaarela area after the verdict. And a couple texts too.”
“So it might be Guerrilla’s new phone.”
“Possible, but we don’t know for sure. The phone has definitely been in the area the whole time.”
“Where’s it been calling?”
Joutsamo paused. “Other prepaid numbers in the metro area: Pakila, Töölö, Kallio, Lauttasaari, Itäkeskus…”
“So a fair amount of traffic.”
“But we got nothing on the content or the recipients. Is he still holed up in that house?” asked Joutsamo.
“Yep.”
“Must have quite the food stash in there-he never has to go for groceries? It also occurred to me that the house had a broadband connection when we raided it back in September. We don’t have access to that, so he might be communicating over the internet.”
“I know,” said Takamäki, and he thought for a while. “With our only charge being threatening a witness, we’ll have a hard time getting a warrant for a full phone tap, much less emails.”
“Yeah. Same old story. What’s the plan, by the way, if we actually find the Lehtonens?”
“You have any suggestions?” he said, looking helpless.
Joutsamo shook her head. “Give them an earful? Scare the shit out of them?”
Takamäki didn’t reply.
* * *
A small white security vehicle swerved up to the curb in front of the train station and a large broad-shouldered man in a gray uniform stepped out. Both the car and the uniform looked ridiculously small in comparison to the man. He walked up to the door where Kulta was waiting and promptly noticed the shattered windowpane.
“What’s this?” he barked, one thumb hooked on his utility belt, where a canister of tear gas was at the ready. “What happened?”
Kulta had already taken out his badge and he held it up. “Mikko Kulta, Helsinki VCU. Sorry, little accident here. I yanked on the door a bit too hard and the glass busted.”
“Really. Let’s see that badge.”
Kulta handed him the badge, and the man stood there examining it without so much as an upward glance. Bad idea, thought Kulta. The guard should have taken a few steps back. If Kulta had had any bad intentions, he could have easily surprised the big man.
“Okay, I guess this looks legit. I’ll just call the glass company.”
“Listen,” said Kulta. “You wouldn’t happen to have the key would you?”
“Sure. Why?”
“Well, actually I’m working on a pretty serious case, and I need to see the CCTV footage. That’s why I’m here.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes,” said Kulta in a serious tone of voice. The guard seemed a bit slow on the uptake, but Kulta was glad the guy hadn’t asked about the case. Few rent-a-cops could resist prying about anything related to real police work.
The lout nodded and took out his key ring. “CCTV footage, huh?”
“Yeah, you know where the monitoring station is?”
“Sure…follow me,” said the guard, and he opened the door.
Kulta fell in behind him with a smug smile.
* * *
Rauli Salo, prison guard, was sitting alone at a table in Parnell’s Pub drinking beer from a mug. His navy blue parka was draped over the back of the chair. The Pub, in Kallio, was furnished in the traditional British style-dominated by dark-toned woods. Salo glanced at his watch: a quarter after two. Fifteen minutes late already.
A blond-haired man came in and Salo followed him with his eyes. He wasn’t sure what sort of man he was here to meet. This one stopped just inside the entrance and scanned the bar. He looked about fifty and wore a black Burberry overcoat, which he left on as he made his way for Salo’s table. The man’s face was tanned.
“You waiting for somebody?” the man asked from six feet off.
The prison guard nodded, and the man sat down at the table. “Hello,” he said. “I had to find a parking spot.”
Salo guessed the man had parked a Mercedes, or at least he seemed to have expensive tastes. The guy would fit in better at some trendy bistro downtown than this poor man’s pub in Kallio. Salo had expected something between a straggly-bearded junkie and a tough-looking torpedo, but you never knew with these criminals. This was actually better-at least he’d get paid. Salo slowly sipped his beer.
“Well?” Marti
n said impatiently. The lawyer didn’t feel quite at home, and he didn’t care much for this sort of impromptu meeting. On the phone, the man had said he had a message from a certain inmate. Of course that meant Korpi. But who was this guy across the table? Martin didn’t know and didn’t really
want to, either. He didn’t look like someone on parole, anyhow. More like a prison staffer.
“Your inmate had a message.”
“You already told me that.”
“Money first. He said five hundred.”
Martin gave the man a hard stare. “Five hundred?” He couldn’t possibly know how much Korpi had actually said, and wondered to what extent this guy was padding his own pockets. Martin dug out his wallet and slipped five green bills into the man’s hand. “So?”
“He says tighten the screw.”
“Tighten the screw?”
“That’s right,” said Salo.
“I see,” said Martin, and he got up to leave.
After he left, Salo stayed to finish his beer. He thought about what the message meant. Five hundred for that was easy money. Tighten the screw…must have something to do with Korpi’s debts. Whatever it was, he knew he shouldn’t be conveying messages from a prisoner in solitary, but what harm could it do? Especially when it was so vague, and not really even a threat.
Salo was actually glad that Korpi owed him one now. In the long run, it would make his life easier. There was one major difference between the work of police and prison guards: the former encountered criminals in fleeting moments of danger, but the latter had to live with them for years. It called for a different kind of touch that involved cooperation. And easy money.
* * *
As Joutsamo stepped into his office, Takamäki could tell from the faint smile on her face that she had good news.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Something, which is a good thing. First off, Kulta got footage of the Lehtonens at the Kirkkonummi train station. They boarded an 11:30 train toward Helsinki, scheduled to arrive at 12:08. The video showed that they were clearly alone on the platform.”
Takamäki glanced at the clock. “So we’re about two and a half hours behind them.”
“Right, but of course they could’ve gotten off at an earlier stop. No sign of them at the apartment.”
“I’m sure Kulta will check the footage at the Helsinki end next?”
“That’s what he said,” said Joutsamo.
“Well, at least we’re on the trail.”
That the Lehtonens were travelling alone was a relief. If someone had snatched them, they wouldn’t be using public transit. More than likely they would’ve been tossed into a trunk. Or a trash bag.
“One other thing,” said Joutsamo. “Guerrilla got another phone call. Came from a cell tower in Kallio.”
“A prepaid phone?”
Joutsamo nodded. “That’s the third call from the same number, but all from different towers. I think it makes sense to file for a warrant at this point.”
“I think so too,” said Takamäki. Given the calls had come from three separate cell towers, it made sense to dig deeper-it would be easier to limit the number of phones falling within their range. The data could also reveal the caller’s other phone numbers, which might be registered to a real person. “I’ll take care of the red tape ASAP.”
Joutsamo looked exasperated. “I’m sick and tired of messing with all this cell tower bullshit… No question in my mind we should be able to listen to these calls. Right now we have no idea who’s calling and what’s being said. With a tap we’d be two steps ahead of the game.”
“You’re preaching to the choir. Talk to the parliament and interior ministry,” said Takamäki with an edge in his voice. “Maybe you could stage a protest.”
Joutsamo was quiet for a while. “Stage?” She thought for a while. Laura’s theater project was over, but hadn’t Mari mentioned something about a show they were planning on attending? A musical, she recalled. Wasn’t it around this time? A Saturday, to be sure.
“You know what,” said Joutsamo. “I think they’ve got tickets to a musical today.”
“A musical?”
“At the City Theater, if I remember right. I wouldn’t think there’d be too many musicals running at the same time.”
Takamäki grabbed a copy of the Helsingin Sanomat and opened it to the entertainment section. “Two shows there today. A matinee at four and an evening show at seven-thirty.”
Joutsamo looked at the clock. “Still a good hour before the matinee starts. Maybe we ought to have a look.”
“I’ll come too. If they don’t show, let’s stop by their apartment and take a stroll around the neighborhood.”
* * *
Mari and Laura Lehtonen were sitting at a table for four on the second floor of the Hakaniemi McDonald’s. There were few other customers. Mari was sitting with her back to the wall, with a clear view of anyone who came up the stairs. Laura was facing her.
The window provided a view of the empty Hakaniemi outdoor market. It had closed at two, the vendors having packed up their carts and left.
Mari and Laura ate their hamburgers in silence. The decision to run had been discussed thoroughly back in Kirkkonummi. Laura had complied with her mother’s wishes.
Mari saw him the moment his face came into view on the stairs. He spotted her and cut straight for their table.
Mari set what was left of her hamburger on the table and followed his approach with her eyes. Anton Teittinen stopped and stood at the end of the table. Mari had called him an hour earlier to ask for a favor and they had arranged to meet here.
Laura’s eyes went from the man to her mother with a mystified expression.
Teittinen kept his gaze on Laura. “You sure have grown.”
Laura was confused. And who is this supposed to be, her eyes seemed to say.
“Laura, this is your father,” said Mari.
Laura stood and threw her arms around his sturdy body. At first, he was taken off guard, but soon he wrapped his strong arms around her and held on. He couldn’t speak, nor could he keep the tears from welling up in his eyes. After about half a minute, the girl let go and so did Anton.
“Sit, sit,” said Mari, glancing around at the other customers. Nobody had taken any interest in them.
Anton Teittinen tried discreetly to dab away his tears, but he wasn’t fooling either of them. “Been quite some time,” he said. “Time you can’t get back. I…uhh…I’ve been pretty stupid.”
Mari nodded. This was probably the closest to an apology Anton was capable of. “There’s no going back to the way it was,” she said.
“That’s not what I meant. But maybe we could meet here…or someplace else, say, a few times a year?”
“I’d like that,” said Laura.
Mari nodded. “I’d be okay with it.”
“Or what if dad came to see my play?”
“If he wants to,” said Mari.
“I don’t see why not, but…” he gathered his thoughts for a moment. “…about the current situation.”
“Right,” said Mari. She looked at Laura, “I’ve told her everything.”
“Okay, then I’ll just be blunt. There’s a lotta rumors going around about you. Hard saying what’s true and what’s not, but there could be some truth to them.”
“We know, but who?” asked Mari.
“Korpi, of course.”
“Why?”
“That I don’t know. Probably fu… Umm… Annoyed about his sentencing,” he said, smiling sheepishly at his daughter.
Mari thought for a moment. “What do you think we should do?”
“I dunno. You can’t show fear, but Korpi has some crazy guys in his corner. I really don’t know.”
Laura cut in. “Are you a criminal?”
Anton chuckled. “Uhh, how to put it… I never been much for the straight and narrow, but I’m not a bad man. At least not that bad,” he said, trying to keep a gentle face.
“
Listen,” said Mari. “We should go. Did you
bring it?”
Teittinen took a bag out from beneath the table. “I got some Christmas presents for the two of you. This bigger one is for your mom and this other is for you. I didn’t have time to wrap them. This all came up kinda sudden.”
He handed the smaller package to the girl. “Here. Merry Christmas. It’s one of these MP3 players with a bunch of music already on there.”
Laura smiled in surprise. “Thank you!”
Mari didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking how and where he had managed to purchase a player with preloaded songs.
“And Mari…maybe we should duck into the restroom to open this one.”
Mari nodded and stood up. “Watch our stuff,” she said to Laura.
The restrooms were on the second floor, small but private. Mari chose the women’s room. Anton followed and locked the door behind him. The room felt a bit cramped for Mari’s tastes-she didn’t care to be so close to her ex-husband.
“I haven’t changed my mind about your testifying against Korpi. But let’s not talk about that right now. You’re both in trouble, so I’ll help you because of
the girl.”
He opened the box to reveal a small revolver with a roundish profile. The handle was made of dark
wood, and mated with chrome-plated steel. The barrel seemed remarkably short.
“It’s the best I could get on short notice. A short-barrel Smith amp; Wesson.44. It’ll fit in your purse and it’s fucking easy to use.”
He cocked it, pulled the trigger, and the hammer snapped shut. “The bullets are in here.” He held up a small Zip-loc bag with six rounds in it, then took out a small rag and set about wiping his fingerprints off the weapon. “This is what the gun dealers always do.”
“Where’s it from?”
Nothing but the Truth hh-3 Page 17