Nothing but the Truth hh-3

by Jarkko Sipila

  Korpi looked at Saarni, confused. “Wrong? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  Now even Takamäki was dumbfounded. “Nothing?”

  Korpi was outright laughing now. “Absolutely nothing. Mari Lehtonen did exactly what she was supposed to. She called the police and testified in court like a good little girl. There is nothing wrong with that.”

  Saarni was at a loss for words. “Well… I don’t understand. Why retaliate against her, then? Why put glue in her lock? Why threaten to kidnap her daughter? Why plant a bomb at her doorstep? I don’t understand.”

  Korpi folded his arms on the table and gazed down at them for a while. Then he raised his eyes and surveyed his audience with an almost theatrical flair. His gaze went from Saarni, to Joutsamo, then Takamäki, and finally came to rest on Lehtonen.

  “You’re right. You don’t understand,” he said. “Sorry about all this, Mari. But obviously I’m angry that you testified against me. If not for your memory, I’d be a free man.”

  He scanned the faces again. It gratified him to see their confusion. “To me it makes no difference if you pin those threats on me. Appeals won’t change the murder verdict, so what do I care? This has nothing to do with her. It has to do with every other mari lehtonen in Finland,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a question of principle. Let’s see once and for all who the public dares side with. I can prepare for anything but some mari lehtonen seeing me in the wrong place at the wrong time. I can eliminate every fucking bug and tap, and flush every rat out of the system. Money can be moved abroad. But the only thing I can’t anticipate is some fucking mari lehtonen. So that’s the last variable I have to control.”

  Takamäki was beginning to understand what Korpi was thinking, and it frightened him.

  “This isn’t about me. It’s a question of principle. It’s a war between cops and criminals. Innocent bystanders don’t have to have any part in it. But if they decide to get involved, then they’re part of the game.”

  Korpi stared directly at Mari.

  “So when you called the cops you chose your side. Before that call you were neutral, but now you’re part of the system. An enemy.”

  Mari glowered across the table at Korpi. “Listen, asshole,” she said. The psychologist tried to tug on her sleeve, but to no avail, “Neither I nor any other citizen is neutral. Shit… As if we should stand by and watch as someone gets raped in the park. We are the system, but you, Risto Korpi, are a stinking sack of shit. The worst kind, and I’m damn glad that I helped put you away for life. I’m happy to be your enemy.”

  Korpi looked at the woman. “Sure, I got the life sentence. But you’re already dead. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but soon.”

  “That doesn’t scare me. We all die sometime.”

  Takamäki cut in, “You’re powerless now, Korpi. Ahola’s dead. Nieminen’s dead. Nobody will take orders from you anymore. Nyberg, Siikala, Martin…they’re all in jail.”

  Korpi smiled. “So Ahola and Nieminen are dead. So what. Temporary setback. Fresh troops are always on hand. But I’m interested in what you, Mari Lehtonen, are afraid of. If not for yourself, then what about for your daughter? There’re a lotta guys in here that would take a piece of her for free, to say nothing of getting paid for it.”

  Takamäki tapped Joutsamo on the shoulder, signaling that this had gone too far. No amount of mediation would get them out of this. Saarni sat frozen in her chair with a vacant expression.

  “If you touch her, I will pay to have you killed.”

  “Doesn’t bother me. Why would I care about the life I have here? For me it’s a question of principle, but you care about the girl.”

  Mari Lehtonen gave a sigh of resignation, then stood as if to leave. She stepped to the side, pulled the short-barreled.44 out of her bag, and leveled it at Korpi. “Are you afraid now?”

  Korpi didn’t say anything, but his eyes went first to Takamäki, then to Joutsamo.

  “I think you’re lying when you say you’re not afraid,” she said, her voice tense. She circled to the other side of the table where neither Takamäki nor Joutsamo could surprise her from behind.

  “Mari, don’t,” said Joutsamo. “This won’t solve anything.”

  Saarni gave it a go, “Let go of your hatred. Don’t let it control you.”

  Lehtonen smiled and waved the gun in the air. “Right. Use the force.”

  Takamäki shoved the psychologist under the table where she’d be out of the way. “Mari,” he said. “If you fire that gun, your daughter’s future will be destroyed.”

  Mari Lehtonen grinned as she peered down the barrel at Korpi, “But if it’s really a question of principle, then let’s settle it, good versus bad. Who’s got more guts?”

  She had two hands on the revolver now, and it seemed to Takamäki they were trembling. She took another step toward Korpi. Too close, thought Takamäki. She was no more than five feet away.

  The armed guards had taken a couple of steps closer, but neither dared draw his weapon.

  Salo had circled out of the line of fire.

  “Are you afraid?” Mari asked. “Will you be afraid if I pull the trigger? It makes no difference to me. I’m dead already. I’ll gladly go to prison if that’s what I need to do to save my daughter.”

  She inched a little closer.

  “Watch it!” said Takamäki as Korpi’s right hand lashed out and wrenched the gun from hers. He spun her around, clamped his arm around her neck, and pressed the barrel of the gun against her temple, her body shielding his.

  The psychologist shrieked from the floor.

  “Shut up bitch!” shouted Korpi, and she fell silent.

  One of the armed guards had drawn his weapon, but the other hesitated. At some point in his training he had learned not to provoke a gunman in this kind of situation. Salo jerked the man’s gun out of its holster and aimed it at Korpi and Lehtonen. Takamäki and Joutsamo stood helpless, having left their firearms in the car. Saarni was still huddled on the floor.

  “Give it up, Korpi,” said Takamäki. “There’s no way out.”

  Korpi smiled and cocked the hammer.

  “Really? You listen to me, pig. With this bitch on my arm we could waltz out the front gate. I’ll get a helicopter…an airplane…I’ll go anywhere in the world.”

  “If you can get outta this room,” said Salo, taking another step closer.

  “Well, well. A real prison guard…fantastic room service. Gets friendly with the inmates and enjoys it, don’t you, punk.”

  Korpi turned his gaze back to Takamäki. “But what if I don’t want to go anywhere? What if all I want is to blow this bitch’s brains all over these walls? Might suit my purpose just as well. Imagine the field day the media would have over what happens to your witnesses. Heheh.”

  Takamäki’s eyes were fixed on the trigger of the gun. Only a sliver of light was visible behind it now. One little squeeze and Mari’s head would fly apart. The stout little gun would make quite a mess. Takamäki kept imagining Korpi’s hand squeezing the trigger.

  “Don’t do it,” he said. “Let her go. Take me instead.”

  Korpi laughed. “A hero cop, huh? You really think I’d switch?”

  “Think about it. If you do, you’ll get your helicopter.”

  “And you’d be a legend,” said Korpi. He wrested Lehtonen’s head to the side and pressed a kiss onto her cheek.

  “What soft skin you have. I’m sure the girl’s is even softer.”

  “Eat shit,” said Mari. “Joker my ass. You’re a four of clubs. Nothing more, nothing less. A four of clubs. Pathetic.”

  Korpi’s eyes flared. “You wanna die?”

  “Go ahead,” she said with a wooden expression. “I’m already dead. Just do it!”

  “Fuck you!”

  Takamäki looked on helplessly as Korpi’s trigger finger began to close. The lieutenant had managed to inch a little closer-maybe he could make a lunge for the gun. But that wouldn’t work, the distance was too great. Korpi
squeezed his finger and Takamäki’s mind pictured the hammer as it flew home, but a shot from the left rang out at the same time. Takamäki’s ears went deaf from the blast. Risto Korpi sank to the floor with Mari in his arms.

  One shot or two? Takamäki wasn’t sure. He looked to the left and saw that Salo had fired. Joutsamo scrambled to the other side of the table and pulled the bloodied Mari away from Korpi’s body. Takamäki looked at the inmate. The bullet had shattered his skull. He was dead.

  “Is she okay?” asked Takamäki. Joutsamo was holding Lehtonen in her arms some fifteen feet away.

  “She’s alright. She’s not hit.”

  The second armed guard reclaimed his Glock from Salo’s trembling hand. Takamäki couldn’t understand why Mari wasn’t dead. He felt certain he had seen Korpi pull the trigger before Salo.

  He found the revolver on the floor and picked it up. The hammer was closed, so Korpi had definitely pulled the trigger. He snapped open the cylinder. Empty: the weapon hadn’t been loaded.

  Takamäki realized that Mari was watching him. Their eyes met for what seemed like a minute. Had she planned this all in advance? he wondered. Her eyes offered no clues, but that gaze was intense.

  “It’s all over,” he said calmly. “Put your safeties back on. Nobody talks to anybody till the interrogations are done.”

  CHAPTER 29

  MONDAY, 6:00 P.M.

  PASILA POLICE HEADQUARTERS

  The lobby of the police station was nearly full. What used to be the press briefing room had been remodeled into a monitoring room for traffic enforcement cameras, so press conferences had to be held in the lobby now. A couple of tables had been set up in front of a glass wall near the elevators, and about twenty chairs had been assembled for the reporters.

  Half a dozen TV cameras and upwards of a dozen newspaper photographers were lined up in the front row. The first few reporters to arrive on time had had the good sense to take the outermost seats in the front row, the only ones with sightlines not obstructed by the photographers’ backs. Other reporters stood to the sides.

  Sanna Römpötti was standing about thirty feet from the tables when Deputy Chief Skoog arrived. The cameraman gave the signal and the live broadcast cut from the news desk to the police station.

  “I’m here at Pasila Police Headquarters where a press conference on today’s dramatic turn of events is about to begin. Let’s listen in,” said Römpötti, and the picture cut to a second camera trained on Skoog.

  Deputy Chief Skoog sat behind a table bristling with microphones and recorders. Alongside him sat the equally grave-looking state prosecutor, Roosa Kemppinen. Skoog began, “Hello. I’m Mika Skoog, Deputy Chief of the Helsinki Police Department, and here with me I have State Prosecutor Roosa Kemppinen. To begin with, I’ll read a statement that will be available in printed form after the conference.”

  Skoog cleared his throat and began reading, “In recent days, the Helsinki Violent Crimes Unit has been investigating a series of threats toward a witness who testified in a recent murder trial. Among the threats was a car bomb that was found in front of the witness’s home. After a relentless search, police were able to locate the bombing suspect, but this afternoon the investigation ended in an unfortunate incident on Juna Street, in which the suspect fired shots at police officers. The shots missed, but officers at the scene were forced to return fire and the suspect was killed. The same individual is also suspected of a homicide in Vuosaari earlier in the day.”

  Skoog looked up. “We ask that anyone with information on this incident contact the Helsinki VCU,” and he listed a phone number.

  The reporters were silent.

  Skoog returned to his paper. “In a related incident at the Helsinki Prison today, a corrections officer shot and killed an inmate who was threatening the life of another individual. This same inmate was suspected of being behind the threats against the aforementioned witness.”

  He went on, “Because police officers were involved in the shooting on Juna Street, State Prosecutor Roosa Kemppinen will be leading that investigation. Both the shooting in Vuosaari and at the prison will be investigated by the National Bureau of Investigation, as it would not be prudent for the Helsinki VCU to investigate the matter themselves. At this time, State Prosecutor Kemppinen will make a statement.”

  “Yes. I don’t have anything to add at the moment,” said Kemppinen dryly, “Except that the state prosecutor’s office will conduct a thorough investigation.”

  She turned back to Skoog.

  “I think we can open it up for a few questions at this time. Go ahead.”

  “Was Risto Korpi the inmate who was killed?” asked one of the newspaper reporters.

  “Yes, he was.”

  “Can you tell us what happened?”

  Skoog paused for a while. “That’s still under investigation. Unfortunately the lead investigator is still at the scene and was unable to attend this press conference. At this point I don’t have any more information.”

  Römpötti blurted out her question without being called upon, since that would never happen after last night’s news story, “This whole case seems to revolve around threats against a witness who testified in court. Now both suspects behind the threats have died at the hands of the authorities. Was this an intentional message to criminal organizations that they shouldn’t tamper with witnesses?”

  Skoog stared coldly at Römpötti, but then looked directly at one of the TV cameras. “Of course not. We don’t work that way here in Finland.”

  But something in his expression or perhaps the tone of his voice left a shadow of doubt in viewers’ minds, just as Skoog had intended.

  “What about Mari Lehtonen?” asked Römpötti.

  “She’s fine,” he said, and followed up quickly with, “Thank you. The next press conference is tomorrow morning at ten. Hopefully we’ll be able to tell you more then.”

  Römpötti took up her position in front of the camera and reiterated the day’s events and what little they had learned from the press conference.

  * * *

  The live broadcast at the police station came to a close and Mari Lehtonen turned off her television. Laura was sitting on the sofa reading a book.

  “So what now?” asked Laura.

  Mari shrugged. “I guess our lives will return to normal. There’s nothing to worry about anymore. That’s what the police said. I might get a fine for an unlicensed firearm and for threatening with a deadly weapon, but Joutsamo said the prosecutor might not even press charges given the circumstances.”

  Next to the television was a handsomely decorated Christmas tree, a traditional gift from the officers at a military base near the safe house.

  “So when do we get to go back home?”

  “I don’t know, but after all these shootings I think it’s best if we stay here for a while.”

  “So they can solve the cases?”

  “Shouldn’t be much to it, but they’ll find the rest of Korpi’s gang and locate his money. There shouldn’t be much else after that. Joutsamo said they were checking into a warehouse of Korpi’s somewhere around Hämeenlinna.”

  Laura looked at her mother, who was smiling faintly.

  “How long?”

  “I don’t know. A week or two, that’s what Joutsamo said. We’ll be just fine,” said Mari.

  A grave expression came over Laura’s face.

  “What is it?” said Mari.

  “Well…about what happened at the prison…”

  “Yes?”

  Mari had decided to tell her about the incident immediately, so she wouldn’t be left wondering. Laura had gotten the same story as the NBI investigators who had questioned Mari as a suspect immediately following the incident. She had become overwhelmed with rage, she had told them, and that was why she had pulled the gun. Mari had learned during the trial that witnesses and plaintiffs had to tell the truth, but suspects did not. As a mother, she also had the right to bend the truth with her child.

 
; “When you pointed the gun at him, did you know it wasn’t loaded?”

  Mari smiled. “Listen to me, Laura. Do you remember when we were at McDonald’s and your father brought you that MP3 player? Well, he brought that gun at the same time. I thought it might come in handy if we ever got into trouble. But your dad said if I ever point it at someone, I better be ready to pull the trigger. That’s why I never loaded it. I could never kill anybody.”

  And she spoke the truth. Somebody had to kill Korpi for her, and in such a way that they wouldn’t be convicted. But that was something she would never reveal to anybody.

  Laura nodded.

  A cheerful voice rang out from the kitchen. “Come in here, you two!” Agatha called. “I need some help with these tarts!”

  Mari looked at Laura.

  “I suppose we should go,” said Laura, and she set her book down on the sofa.

  * * *

  Salmela was sitting at the corner table at the Corner Pub. The Christmas tree languishing near the door seemed to cough on the cigarette smoke. Suhonen was weaving through the crowd with two steaming mugs of glögi, a suitable treat for a snowy yuletide evening. He reached the table, took a seat and slid one of the mugs over to Salmela.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  The men sat and sipped the hot, spiced wine. Apparently the bartender hadn’t spared any vodka. Or maybe some rookie had messed up the recipe. Both men coughed at the same time.

  “Well, poetic justice, they might call it,” said Salmela.

  Suhonen shrugged.

  “Aren’t you gonna tell me what happened? Word on the street is that Korpi and Ahola were executed for bucking the system.”

  Suhonen couldn’t help but smile. “Some reporter asked the chief the same thing on TV. His answer was no.”

  “Bullshit. I saw his expression. Said execution all over it.”

  “I actually wasn’t there, but my boss Takamäki was. When I left the station tonight he was still there writing up reports. I got a look at the draft and I gotta say, everything went according to the finest letter of the law.” Suhonen smiled broadly and stroked his beard. “Those sections on self defense are pretty broad.”