Nothing but the Truth hh-3

by Jarkko Sipila

He shrugged. “Off the shelf of some gun shop in Turku for all I know.”

  “You stole it?”

  “No, but you’re not supposed to ask. It’s hot, at any rate, so don’t show it to your cop buddies.”

  “Okay,” said Mari. Teittinen handed her the weapon. It felt quite solid, though it didn’t weigh much more than two pounds. At least it brought a semblance of security. Now the target could shoot back if circumstances called for it.

  “It’ll stop the crackheads, too. Got a good kick, but as you can see by how short the barrel is, you’re not gonna hit anything past fifteen feet.”

  Lehtonen studied her ex. “Have you ever shot at anyone?”

  “Nah. Guns are more about the fear factor. But remember, you point this at somebody, you better be ready to pull the trigger. And if someone’s threatening Laura, you aim for the head. They’ll be picking brains off the pavement for a good while.”

  “How much do I owe you?” asked Mari as she packed the revolver back into the box, and the box into the plastic bag.

  Teittinen smiled. “I already told you it’s a Christmas present.”

  Mari slipped the bag and the bullets into her blue handbag.

  CHAPTER 24

  SATURDAY, 3:40 P.M.

  HELSINKI CITY THEATER

  Joutsamo and Takamäki were standing in the atrium of the Helsinki City Theater. Takamäki took in the ambience of the forty-year-old building. Back in the sixties, it had been considered modern, but now it seemed cold and clinical. The detectives had chosen a spot next to the coat check where they could see the guests filing in through the main entrance. With their coats off, they did their best to act like theater-goers waiting for friends to arrive.

  The two had arrived at a quarter after three. By now, there was little to chat about. They’d already gone through the details of the case, and chitchat wouldn’t move it along. Circumstances remained grim from their standpoint. If the Lehtonens didn’t turn up at the theater, the police were just as lost as they were that morning. Kulta had spotted Mari and Laura on tape at the Helsinki Central Train Station, but the footage ended at the doors leading to the Railway Square.

  Takamäki glanced at his watch. “If they don’t come for this showing, the next is at seven.”

  “Yeah,” said Joutsamo as she scanned the new arrivals. She noticed a familiar TV reporter: Sanna Römpötti. Shit, she thought. The reporter came in

  with a short-haired boy of about ten and recognized the detectives immediately.

  “Just what we needed,” muttered Takamäki through a smile.

  Römpötti slipped out of her coat and came over to greet them. “A little culture to go with your crime, huh? What’s up?”

  Her question was intentionally open, as Römpötti was surprised to see the two of them at the theater together.

  Takamäki smiled. “The VCU theater club donated some tickets. Apparently hard to come by.”

  “Yeah,” answered Römpötti, and she gestured toward her young companion. “This is my godson, Tommi. Tommi, say hi to these nice police officers.”

  The boy smiled shyly and said hi.

  “Hi,” said Takamäki and Joutsamo.

  The reporter’s back was toward the door, but the detectives still had a view of the entrance. “I got my tickets way back in August. You know who’s singing the lead in this show?” said Römpötti.

  Neither detective even had a notion of what the choices might be. “I don’t, actually. The programs are up there,” said Joutsamo. “We’re just waiting for a couple of our colleagues and Takamäki’s wife.”

  “It’d be nice to meet her sometime,” said Römpötti.

  Joutsamo spotted Mari and Laura outside the glass entrance doors. They had to get rid of Römpötti fast. The reporter would quickly notice their interest in Mari. Römpötti had been at the trial, after all, and would surely recognize her.

  “Are your seats on the main floor or the balcony?” asked Joutsamo.

  “Main floor. Row seven on the right.”

  “Hm. We’re in the balcony. That must be the difference between detectives and reporters,” said Joutsamo with a smile.

  Little Tommi tugged on Römpötti’s sleeve. “That Sprite, remember?”

  Römpötti grinned. “Well, we’d better go. See you.”

  “Sure,” said Takamäki. He too had noticed the Lehtonens at the entrance. The sight of them was a huge relief, but Römpötti was still only a few feet off, so their original plan of immediately intercepting them wasn’t going to work. Römpötti would presumably take a final backward glance on the stairs en route to the lounge.

  Mari and Laura came into the atrium and began shedding their coats. Mari was lugging a large shoulder bag, so apparently they hadn’t stopped at home after leaving the safe house. The detectives turned their backs as the Lehtonens filed into the coat check line. Römpötti was already on the stairs with the boy when she turned back and waved. Joutsamo gave a nod, which earned a questioning look from Takamäki. “Römpötti’s on the stairs,” she explained.

  Within a minute, Mari was at the front of the line handing her jacket and shoulder bag to the coat check attendant, but she kept her blue handbag with her. Laura handed over her parka and took the ticket.

  “Where to?” said Joutsamo.

  “Let’s go in a little further,” said Takamäki. “We can’t talk to them here in the middle of the crowd.”

  The atrium was beginning to fill up already. People were drinking coffee, wine and beer, and eating overpriced pastries. The whole situation seemed rather absurd to Takamäki. At the heart of it all was a woman and a girl, the targets of a hardened criminal, and the police were trying to figure out how to approach them.

  “Let’s take them back into the corner,” said Takamäki, and he let Joutsamo go ahead.

  Joutsamo weaved swiftly through the crowd and approached the Lehtonens from behind. “Hi,” she said in a soft voice. “Everything alright?”

  Mari turned around first, then Laura. Takamäki came up alongside Joutsamo.

  “Yeah, fine,” said Mari as she pushed onward.

  “Listen,” said Joutsamo, still gently, but a bit firmer this time. “Can we talk?”

  “What about?”

  Takamäki cut in. “Why don’t you take a guess…you think this is some kind of game?”

  Mari was about to say something feisty, but she bit her tongue. Not with so many ears around. She thought for a moment before responding, “Sure, let’s talk. We’ve got a few minutes.”

  Joutsamo and Takamäki led Mari to a quieter section of the atrium. Laura hung back by the coat racks, about thirty feet away.

  “What’s going on?” said Joutsamo. “Why aren’t your phones on?”

  “The batteries are dead,” she snapped.

  They were all quiet for a while. “Let me get this straight,” said Takamäki. “We work our asses off on your behalf and you scrap it all just like that?”

  “And just what exactly have you done, if I might ask?”

  “Really,” he groaned. “Are you out of your mind? While we’re trying to find out who’s behind the threats, it’s vital that we know you’re safe. It allows us to concentrate on the investigation.”

  “Oh, so this is about your investigation.”

  “No,” said Takamäki. “It’s about…”

  Joutsamo interrupted her boss. His tack was clearly headed in the wrong direction, and she didn’t want Mari to be at odds with them. “Mari, tell me what’s going on…”

  “Why should I ruin my life because of some criminal?”

  Takamäki was stunned. Ruin her life? Soon she’d lose it. But he bit his tongue.

  Mari went on. “Seems to me this ‘safe house’ is just a place where you can tuck us away. Sweep us under the rug. We can’t cause any problems there. While the criminal gets to do whatever he wants.”

  “Mari,” said Joutsamo. “The criminal is in prison. You were sent there for your own good. So you’d be safe.”
<
br />   “For weeks or for months? I mean, the place was like a prison. Stuck in a room all day. I have a life. My daughter has a life. We have work, school, family, friends, interests. And tickets to the theater. What right do you have to lock us up?”

  Takamäki was about to say something, but Joutsamo shut him up. “We’re looking out for your safety. You’ve been threatened. This is a perfectly normal course of action.”

  “It might to be normal to you, but not to us. And what if the threats keep coming? What do you recommend then? That we move to Lapland or Sweden? Cut all ties to our old lives? Geez, if you can’t come up with something better, then I’ll take the risk.”

  “For Laura, too?”

  “Yeah, we’ve talked it through. We want our lives back. If I start being afraid all the time, I’ll never get my life back. I can’t give up. I can’t be afraid.”

  Joutsamo paused for a while. Takamäki had decided to keep quiet. “Let me ask you a question: Do you remember how you felt when Laura got that envelope?”

  Mari swallowed hard. “Yes, I’ll never forget. But I was weak then. I thought the experts could help us. But once we were at the safe house, it dawned on me. You don’t care about our lives. You just don’t want problems. That’s why you had to get us out of the picture.”

  “Well, what do you want us to do?” said Takamäki, struggling to conceal his disgust.

  “Do what you want, but we’ll be going on with our lives.”

  The first chime sounded, signifying that the show would begin soon. “Right now, we’re going to watch the play. Afterwards, maybe we’ll have some tea and then head home. I don’t really give a rip what you cops do.”

  “Fair enough,” said Takamäki in resignation. “Enjoy the show. Good night. Afternoon, that is.”

  He gestured to Joutsamo, and they took their leave.

  “We can’t just leave them to Korpi you know,” said Joutsamo as she pulled on her coat. “The wolf will get his sheep in short order.”

  “She said herself she doesn’t care what the police do,” he snorted.

  “But…”

  “Stop and think, Anna,” he said as he held the entry door for her. The temperature had dipped well below freezing. “We’re not gonna abandon the case, we’ll just have to do without their cooperation. Basically, that means you get to stay here and wait till the show is over. Then you just politely ask if they’d like a ride in an unmarked squad. If they turn it down, follow them and make sure nothing happens.”

  “Isn’t that…”

  “She said herself she doesn’t give a rip what the cops do. At least for now, that’s the way we’ll have to do it. Like you said, we can’t just leave them to Korpi. To hell with the cost,” he said. “I’ll leave you the squad and catch a bus back to the station.”

  “I can drop you off,” said Joutsamo. “The show will probably take a couple hours, and I didn’t see any suspicious characters around.”

  “Except for Römpötti. Alright, let’s do that.”

  * * *

  It was nearing six o’clock and already dark outside. Suhonen was sitting in a car in the Haukilahti district of Espoo, staking out a house that belonged to Attorney Mats Martin. Suhonen had parked the car with a clear view of the façade. There was no doubt that there were people inside-the place was actually hopping. Presumably the lawyer was hosting some kind of party.

  Only a few hours before, Suhonen had been spending his day off with the intention of going for pizza and a few beers with his wife candidate Raija when Takamäki called. Of course, he could have said no, but that wasn’t his style.

  Besides, the situation seemed pretty juicy. Based on information gleaned from phone taps, they had reason to believe that Martin had called Jere Siikala three times on a prepaid card in recent days. The lawyer was the only one whose own phone had been within range of the same cell towers as the prepaid phone that was used to call Guerrilla. It couldn’t be a coincidence. And if it was, it called for a formal explanation in a police interrogation room. Martin had also gone to visit Korpi in Helsinki Prison on the Thursday prior to Korpi’s transfer to solitary.

  Takamäki, Suhonen, Joutsamo and Karila had held a meeting at the VCU conference room to discuss the situation brought about by the Lehtonens’ desertion. Once Martin’s and Siikala’s phone records were added to the equation, it became clear that there was no reason to wait. Particularly with Siikala continuing to call anonymous numbers. The police had to be proactive. Anybody who could be linked to the case would be taken in and held for as long as legally possible, and potentially remanded into custody if the interviews and searches produced any evidence.

  As for Guerrilla, his arrest was left up to Narcotics agents, who were overjoyed to be done with their mind-numbing surveillance detail. Suhonen, for his part, had tracked down Martin. Because the two men were connected, there was good reason to make their arrests at more or less the same time. A tentative time of six o’clock was agreed upon, just before the conclusion of the play at the Helsinki City Theater.

  Suhonen considered the various ways that he could arrest Martin. If the house was packed with lawyers, sending in the SWAT team would likely be ill-advised, though quite educational. Karila and Takamäki had emphasized the importance of the lowest possible profile and minimal publicity. The goal was to turn the situation back in the Lehtonens’ favor.

  In terms of a low profile, Martin’s party was clearly a terrible starting point. No matter how they got him out of the house, there would be an uproar amongst the guests. Suhonen couldn’t wait until the party was over, because timing was important. But the bosses had only urged the lowest possible profile. Needless to say, they would have to search the house, so the party had to end. But how to do that without revealing the reason for Martin’s arrest to his guests?

  Suhonen had looked into Martin’s background. The man was married with two teenage children, but more interesting was what he found in the firearms registry: a shotgun and two handguns registered in his name.

  His two-story red brick house was situated just across the street from the ocean front, not far from Mellsten’s beach.

  Suhonen took out his phone and called the on-duty lieutenant at the Espoo police department. Takamäki had already arranged for back-up to be available. After that, Suhonen called Takamäki, who had no objections to his straightforward plan.

  Within ten minutes, the cruisers from Espoo had pulled up to the agreed-upon meeting spot in the parking lot of the Toppelund school. Suhonen briefed the uniformed officers on his strategy and showed them a photo of Martin he’d gotten from a directory of lawyers.

  The squad cars pulled up to the house in single file with their roof lights off. Suhonen parked his vehicle behind them and he, along with four other cops, weaved through the cars parked in the driveway. One of the uniformed officers rounded the house to cover the back door.

  Suhonen reached the front door and was about to ring the bell when it opened. He recognized Martin immediately. The man had a glass of Cognac in his hand. He reeked of alcohol, and his pupils were dilated. Latin music and the smell of cigar smoke wafted outside.

  “What’s this?” he said. “Are the neighbors complaining? We’ll turn it down.”

  “No need. I’ll take care of it,” said Suhonen.

  “What? You can’t just…”

  “Shut up,” said Suhonen, and one of the Espoo cops twisted Martin’s arms behind his back. The glass of Cognac fell to the floor and shattered.

  “What the hell…” Martin managed to say before the burly officer slapped on the cuffs, took hold of his suit coat and started hauling him toward the cruiser. Martin wasn’t wearing any shoes, but the cop didn’t care.

  “What is this!” shouted Martin, struggling against the cuffs.

  “I’ll explain in a bit,” said Suhonen, and he went inside. The furnishings looked expensive. Suhonen took a quick glance into the two downstairs bedrooms, the bathroom and entertainment room. Empty. He continued on upstair
s with two Espoo officers in tow.

  “What’s going on down there?” shouted a woman’s voice from the top of the stairs. The music shut off.

  Suhonen waited until he reached the top before answering. The two beat cops stayed just behind him.

  Once on the second floor, he pulled out his badge, “Helsinki Police.”

  Three women and four men were sitting around a large living room decorated entirely in white furnishings. Their posh clothing harmonized with the expensive decor.

  “What’s this all about?” said one of the women as she rose. She was slender, with long blond hair and a black knee-length dress. “Where’s my husband?”

  “Take it easy,” said Suhonen. “Mats Martin is under arrest.”

  One of the men shot a quick glance toward a corner at the back of the room where a couple of chairs and a chess table were arranged. Suhonen caught the glance and walked over to the table.

  Martin’s wife was babbling something, and as he neared the table, Suhonen heard one of the men cursing. A couple lines of white powder lay on the marble chess board with a straw to the side. “I see,” said Suhonen with a smile. The drugs would make a convenient excuse for the raid.

  “You’re all under arrest on suspicion of drug possession.”

  “I haven’t done anything!” one of the men protested as he got to his feet.

  The Espoo cops took a step toward him and he fell silent again. Martin’s wife was in hysterics now.

  “You can’t just barge into someone’s house like that!”

  “But here we are in the middle of your coke party. Imagine that,” said Suhonen. He turned to the other cops. “Take down their names and bring them to the Espoo Station. I’ll call and let them know we gotta bunch of junkies on the way. I need one of you guys to come with me to Helsinki. And cuff ’em all,” he hollered after them. A ride in the back of a cop car with handcuffs on and a night in jail was a more fitting punishment for these types than whatever fine they’d get for possession. Of course, if Espoo Narcotics didn’t have any big cases going on, they’d search their homes and offices to find out where the drugs came from. But Suhonen was confident that that would come out in the interrogations anyway. Whatever the case, he wasn’t interested in the drugs.