Nothing but the Truth hh-3

by Jarkko Sipila

  “Kannas. The fingerprint,” said Takamäki.

  “Right. The print belongs to a man from Korpi’s gang by the name of Matti Ahola, at least presumably he’s still with Korpi. Twenty-six years old with a history of drugs and debt collection.”

  “One of Korpi’s lieutenants, according to the information we have,” said Takamäki. “He is-or at least was-a former drug addict himself, but Korpi’s been using him mainly as a torpedo. A warrant for his arrest has already been issued. Based on Suhonen’s description, it’s possible the driver of the Escort was Ahola, but that’s still unconfirmed.”

  “The car is at our lab for further analysis, but I haven’t received any results yet,” said Kannas.

  “Photos of Ahola have been posted at all border checkpoints,” said Takamäki.

  Joutsamo had made copies of Ahola’s photo for everybody. His nose, broken at some point in his life, was raked sharply to the left. “Ahola is one of three lieutenants responsible for his own branch in Korpi’s organization. We don’t really have a complete picture of everyone involved, but here’s a diagram with some of Ahola’s potential connections,” said Joutsamo as she handed out copies. “Moving down from Korpi we have three main offshoots: Ahola, Siikala and Nyberg, and then a bunch more subordinates as you go down the line.”

  The names, telephone numbers and other contact information were written beneath the photos. “We matched the fingerprint to Ahola twenty-five minutes ago, so he’s got about a two-and-a-half-hour head start.”

  “Does he have any connections to foreign operatives?” asked Syväoja, his eyes scanning the handout.

  “Some Russians and Estonians, but no links to known terrorist groups.”

  Syväoja seemed satisfied.

  Kulta spoke up, “Any link between Ahola and the envelope the Lehtonen girl got?”

  “Nope,” said Joutsamo. “We don’t have his DNA on file, and so far we’ve found no matches to the DNA on the envelope.”

  “Kulta, how are the interrogations going with Jere Siikala and the attorney?” asked Takamäki.

  “Neither’s talking,” said Kulta. “They’re denying all involvement and demanding to be released.”

  “Well,” said Takamäki. “Both will be remanded into custody tonight. Suhonen, what’s the status with Korpi and Nyberg?”

  Suhonen raked his hands through his hair. “Both in solitary. No contact with the outside. No newspapers, no TV, no visitors. The only person they see is the guard who brings in the food. Or at least that’s what they tell me.”

  “Okay,” said Takamäki. “Clearly Matti Ahola is our prime suspect in the bomb investigation and yet another connection to Korpi. The bomb was undoubtedly a retaliation against Mari Lehtonen, probably planned in advance, since Korpi shouldn’t be having any contact with the outside, at least not after his transfer to solitary and Martin’s arrest. We don’t know what’s coming next, but we have to assume that something will.” He let his eyes roam the room. “They’re upping the ante.”

  He went on. “The good news about the bomb is that now we’re looking at attempted murder, which means the court will grant us warrants for phone taps. The bad news is we can’t ensure the victim’s safety when Mari Lehtonen is so comfortable being a sitting duck. At any rate, it’s clear that the matter should be kept from the media. This morning’s operation will be referred to as a bomb threat.”

  “So lie to the media?” wondered Karila.

  “Well, not exactly. We’ll just tell them our version of the truth. The bomb never exploded, so technically it was just a threat, right?” Takamäki scanned the officers in the room. “If anyone has a better word to describe the incident, they can suggest it to me later, but as far as I’m concerned, the presence of an actual bomb should be kept secret here.”

  “That’s fine with me, as a tactical decision,” said Deputy Chief Skoog. “But what about getting this woman committed? It’s a smart move if you ask me. She can’t be sane behaving like that. At least we could get her off the streets that way.”

  “Uh-huh…” Takamäki managed to say before his cell phone cut him short. He checked the caller: Römpötti. His first thought was to ignore the call, but the possibility that he could get some leads based on what the media knew or wanted to know made him change his mind. “Just a sec,” he said to the others.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, it’s Römpötti. Bad time?”

  Takamäki felt like smiling, but his voice was serious. Kannas was whispering about something with Syväoja, but the others tuned in to Takamäki’s call. “Well, we’re in a little meeting here.”

  “Why don’t I call back later.”

  “No. What’s up?”

  “Well, about this incident on Porvoo Street.”

  “What about it?”

  “I hear it’s your case.”

  “You heard right.”

  The reporter tried to use silence to coax more out of him. A few seconds passed before she broke the silence. “Well, tell me about it.”

  “We’ll release a statement within the hour.”

  Römpötti didn’t let on that she had any new information, so Takamäki decided to test the waters a bit. “It’s really nothing all that unusual. We’re just trying to figure out who might be behind it.”

  “I see…nothing all that unusual.”

  Takamäki didn’t care for the tone of her voice. “That’s right.”

  “Listen, I’ve always thought you’re a pretty fair cop and that’s why I’m still on the line. We’ve gotten along pretty well, but don’t you dare lie to me. I know for a fact that a bomb was placed in front of Mari Lehtonen’s building. I also know the backstory on the threats and all.”

  Shit, thought Takamäki, and his eyes darted about the room in search of the mole. Who in the hell had gone and sung to Römpötti? His dumbstruck expression had gotten even Kannas and Syväoja to quiet down.

  “How in the hell…” he began, but Römpötti interrupted him.

  “Don’t bother looking for a mole.”

  “Goddamn it! It can’t be…”

  “But it is. Mari Lehtonen told the whole story on camera.”

  Takamäki felt the need to sit down, but there were no chairs within reach. “You’re not planning on airing it, are you?” he said in a last ditch effort.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because it’s a death sentence. Once it’s public, Lehtonen will be fair game for every criminal in the country.”

  “No, she won’t, because she’s not an informant. She’s an ordinary citizen who you guys couldn’t protect, so you tried to ditch her in some safe house. You had your opportunity, now let’s see if a little publicity can protect her.”

  “And if it doesn’t?”

  “Well, it couldn’t be any worse than under your watch.”

  “So you’re saying Lehtonen’s face is going to be on TV,” said Takamäki as the others looked on in open-mouthed astonishment.

  “Don’t be stupid. Although that’s what she wanted…to show her face, but I decided to scramble it. The thing is, her story has raised quite a few pointed questions about police performance. If you don’t want to answer them, then hand me over to Skoog. I’m guessing he’s there at your little meeting. And if he doesn’t want to comment, I’ll just keep going up the chain of command. We’ll see if anyone wants to comment.”

  Takamäki paused. He didn’t like this kind of arm-twisting, but they had to change their game plan, and there was no point in further irritating Römpötti. “I’ll call you back within the hour,” he replied coldly.

  “Okay. And no more lies. Your wife wouldn’t like that either,” she said, and hung up the phone.

  The others were waiting to be filled in, but Takamäki took ten seconds to gather his thoughts. “Well, I’m sure you overheard. The game has changed. The threats against Lehtonen will be aired on the evening news tonight. Lehtonen gave an interview to Sanna Römpötti.”

  “Oh, no,” said Joutsamo.r />
  “What did she say?” asked Skoog.

  Takamäki ran a hand over his closely-cropped hair. “We didn’t get into details, but let’s just say Lehtonen has been rather critical of our performance.”

  “We’ll have to think about how this will affect the case,” said Joutsamo.

  “That’s right, we’ll cover the PR issues later,” said Takamäki. “The situation has changed. Our first priority is figuring out how to keep her alive.”

  “Can’t we stop the broadcast somehow?” said Skoog.

  “Not unless you want to violate the constitution.”

  “Hell,” said Skoog. “Then the constitution needs to be amended. The media meddles with our cases with their stories, cartoons, who knows what else. The system needs some discipline.”

  “Well, I doubt we’ll have time for constitutional amendments. Right now, we have to find Ahola and track down the remainder of Korpi’s henchman. Let’s meet at five and see where we’re at. Get to work.”

  Kulta stood up first. “Hell, if this doesn’t work out we’re bound for a scolding as bad as the one I got from the newly-married lingerie model at the bar last Saturday night.”

  Takamäki didn’t laugh. “Lehtonen has given us a pretty bad scolding already.”

  * * *

  Sanna Römpötti was sitting at her desk in the newsroom with copious amounts of paper arranged all around her in neat piles.

  She didn’t have a private office, just a cube in the same cube farm she shared with most of her colleagues. Back in the corner was the most hallowed ground in the newsroom, the desk from which the anchor read the evening news.

  Sundays were always quiet in the newsroom. That didn’t bother Römpötti. She stared at the computer screen, headphones on, watching her interview with Mari Lehtonen. The tape had been transferred to the newsroom servers.

  Römpötti was humored by Takamäki’s antics. Clearly, if that was the lieutenant’s reaction, the police were dealing with an extremely serious threat. First he downplays its importance, then can’t string together a single sentence about it. But the most striking thing to Römpötti was that the lieutenant was downplaying it by saying that there was nothing serious about the case. Perhaps therein lay the root of Mari Lehtonen’s problems.

  The outline of the story was taking shape in Römpötti’s mind. She had already begun editing some of Mari Lehtonen’s interview on the computer “So I decided to stop being afraid… This Korpi’s the criminal, not me… I’m just an ordinary citizen doing my civic duty… If I fulfill my civic duty and testify, it shouldn’t mean that my daughter and I become pariahs to be hidden away indefinitely… I’m very disappointed in how the police have handled the situation. It seems that to the police we’re part of the problem, and they solve it by sweeping us under the rug… If society expects citizens to testify in court, then it needs to able to protect them.”

  Scathing commentary, thought Römpötti.

  During the interview at the coffee shop, Römpötti had thought Mari to be somewhat crazy for spurning the security of the safe house, but once she explained the prospect of being trapped there for weeks and months, Römpötti had begun to understand. Her predicament applied specifically to the ordinary citizen. Certainly a criminal striving to break free of a gang could adapt to life in a safe house, but Mari Lehtonen had done nothing wrong. To the contrary, she had done everything right. And if that resulted in unbearable circumstances for her, something was seriously wrong with the system.

  After the interview, Römpötti had asked Lehtonen if she needed any help, but she hadn’t. She and her daughter had decided to see a movie and then go home. “Make it good,” she had said to the reporter.

  Römpötti had managed to find some additional material from foreign sources, including a sobering interview with Danielle Cable, her voice altered and her face scrambled. Cable gave an account of hiding from a criminal organization for seven years because she had testified against the man who murdered her husband. A second witness from the same trial, a father of three, had been murdered after a year of constant threats. The material wouldn’t fit into this evening’s news, but perhaps in a few days, once the story had really broken.

  Römpötti had also researched anonymous testimonies, where the witnesses’ identities were hidden. This was an unattractive alternative, since witnesses, police officers or courts weren’t infallible. The defense needed the right to cross-examine witnesses as to the reliability of their testimony, as Martin had done with Lehtonen.

  Römpötti’s thoughts returned to the news story. She wondered what clips she would use. She had managed to get some footage of the blockade on Porvoo Street, and later in the afternoon, toward dusk, she planned to take her cameraman to Lehtonen’s building, and to the spot where Laura was accosted.

  She’d need some commentary from the police. If neither Takamäki nor Skoog would comment, she’d send a regional reporter to interview the minister of the interior, now attending an Emergency Services Christmas party in the Joensuu area. The minister, who had almost certainly been briefed on the case, would undoubtedly comment on camera, at least on a general level. Römpötti would instruct her colleague to word the question, “How important is witness protection?” She could already hear the response in her head, something in the vein of, “More robust witness protection is a crucial part of the landmark Internal Security Program passed by the legislature two years ago. It is our top priority to safeguard anyone involved in the investigation of serious crimes.”

  With the minister’s comment as an intro, she would then move on to the account of an actual witness. The contrast would be stark. Then on the following day she’d run a follow-up story on what the Internal Security Program had accomplished: not much of anything.

  * * *

  Takamäki, Joutsamo, Karila, and Skoog were crowded into Takamäki’s already cramped office. “Just let me say something. I think we should go public with the case, maybe even issue an apology,” said Karila, the head of VCU.

  Deputy Chief Skoog shook his head. “We can’t do that… The best course of action is to do nothing and let the storm blow over. It’s not the kind of story other media outlets will pick up anyway.”

  “Really?” said Karila. “I’d say it’s exactly the kind of sensationalism the media loves-easy to understand and emotionally charged.”

  Takamäki sat behind his desk and wondered briefly if he should mention his wife’s reaction from a couple of days earlier, then decided against it. He sided with Karila. “I think we should answer Römpötti’s questions. I can do it. I’ll just say it’s a difficult problem, but as always, we do everything we can.”

  “If you admit publicly that we have a problem, where are you gonna get witnesses for these kinds of cases going forward?” said Skoog.

  “Well, if we sit on our hands while Lehtonen and Römpötti have their say, we won’t be getting any witnesses anyway,” said Joutsamo.

  “My point is that you can’t take an isolated case as an indication of systemic flaws,” said Skoog. “Sometimes it’s a good idea to talk to the media and try to sway public opinion in our favor, but in this instance we have no choice but to keep quiet. The witness chose not to take advantage of the safe house that we provided, and instead went solo with a tell-all to the media on a sensitive case. I still think she belongs in a mental institution, but that’s off the table now that the media is involved. Like I said, we’ll put out a statement like this, ‘Police were called to Porvoo Street this morning on reports of a bomb threat. For reasons pertaining to the investigation, no further information will be provided. The police are doing everything possible to hold the person or persons behind the threat accountable, and are asking for any information that might be connected to the case.’ And that’s all we say. I’ll take responsibility for all communications with the media.”

  Takamäki sat behind his desk, arms folded, trying to keep a straight face. “So you’ll take media responsibility. Maybe you’d like to lead the
investigation as well?”

  “Don’t fuck with me. If this blows up in my face, I’ll have Internal Affairs look into your role in this mess,” said Skoog, and he stormed out.

  Takamäki, Joutsamo and Karila sat and watched as he left. Once the door had closed, Takamäki spoke up, “Well, looks like I’m still in charge of the case. Any ideas on how to proceed?”

  “You already said it,” said Joutsamo after a long silence. “Let’s find Ahola.”

  * * *

  The SWAT officer stood behind the door, his face masked, a helmet on his head, and in his hand, a three-foot iron ram at the ready. Three other SWAT officers were lined up behind him on the stairs, the first clutching a heavy ballistic shield, the second a shotgun, and the third an MP5 submachine gun. Suhonen stood further back in his leather jacket. He too wore a mask to protect his identity.

  Suhonen nodded and the lead man slammed the ram into the lock, reducing the surrounding wood to splinters. The door sprang open, and the shield man swung into the lead, followed by the officer with the shotgun. They moved more hurriedly than at the Kaarela house-the apartment had to be secured as quickly as possible.

  “Police! Nobody move!”

  Next came the submachine gun man, then the ram wielder, who had ditched the ram in favor of a pistol. Suhonen came in last.

  The apartment was a two-room flat in one of the high rises on Kallvik Street. The address had come from Joutsamo’s list of residences associated with Ahola and his accomplices. They had no indication that Ahola would actually be here, but there was only one way to find out. They’d already searched three other apartments, and six remained on Suhonen’s list. Kulta had his own list and another SWAT unit. Both teams were scrambling.