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Wolves and Angels

Page 32

by Jokinen, Seppo


  He walked into the conference room.

  “There’s more people here than at the Hyrynsalmi Wolf Hunt Afterparty,” he said at the door with delight.

  Pekki had dragged in the whole team. With him around the table sat Ulla, Kaatio, and Eskola. Even Riipinen had hung around to hear what Koskinen had to say.

  Pekki and Kaatio were not trying to conceal their bitter expressions. “What the hell did you go and do?”

  Koskinen thought about what Pekki might mean. Their team of investigators had been called in on Sundays before, sometimes even in the middle of Christmas dinner, and usually for something less significant than this case.

  The reason for the huffing came out soon enough though.

  “You had to go and win,” Pekki grumbled.

  Kaatio looked at his knuckles sullenly. “Pekki and I are both fifty euros poorer.”

  Riipinen sucked on his inhaler and then coughed. “I lost thirty. Can’t trust anyone nowadays.”

  Ulla couldn’t hold back her laughter. “Who told you to place a bet? And besides, it’s illegal anyway. You should’ve got a gambling permit from the police. You all got what you deserved.”

  Pekka and Kaatio glowered at Ulla bitterly. Eskola, on the other hand, sat erect in his chair and held his hands on the table as if inspecting his fingernails. His hair was combed in a perfect, straight-arrow part. The sides were trimmed to a stubble making him look even more bat-eared than normal. “It’s in the lottery ordinance.”

  Everyone’s heads turned toward Eskola.

  “What?”

  “Any person who illegally and without official authorization organizes a betting pool shall be sentenced to a fine or a maximum of up to six months in prison.”

  Koskinen looked at Eskola in irritation. He really was to blame for a good amount of the taunting he received. Sometimes he seemed intentionally to look for it. Pekki and Kaatio were fuming over the money they had lost, and Eskola was just about to get thrown out of the room.

  Koskinen decided to save him again though. “That’s good,” he said, pretending to laugh. “Antti has a pretty quick sense of humor.”

  “Pretty strange more like,” Pekki grumbled. “If not just infantile.”

  Koskinen turned the flip chart to a fresh page, even though he hadn’t planned on using it. “You’re all probably wondering why we’re here.”

  “Not at all,” Kaatio said. “What could be more fun on a boring day off than coming to admire our lieutenant wearing the national costume.”

  Koskinen glanced at his clothing, the same tracksuit he’d been wearing all morning. His running shoes were muddy, and the dried mud reached halfway up his calves. Even though the morning had been warm and dry, the race course had cut across some damp spots.

  He decided to ignore the barb. He turned and wrote NO DANCE on the board and then pointed at Kaatio.

  “You heard these words at Wolf House.”

  “Yeah,” Kaatio said, a little uncertainly. “At least that’s what Rauha Salmi’s gibberish sounded like.”

  Under what he had just written, Koskinen put NO TRANSIT. He turned, hoping to see an a-ha moment happening in his listeners. However, Ulla was the only one nodding, but it initially had been her idea.

  Pekki and Kaatio, on the other hand, were shaking their heads like two wooden puppets being moved by the same string.

  “You aren’t trying to say that she meant Laine’s van, are you?”

  “Exactly!”

  “Salmi was a quadriplegic. There was no way she could’ve got out of bed on her own. How on earth could she have seen that the car that night wasn’t a Transit?”

  “If she didn’t see, then she heard.”

  “How could a 70-year-old lady tell car makes apart just based on their sounds?”

  Koskinen realized that he was being put on the defensive. He started explaining, too quickly. “Rauha Salmi didn’t exactly have a full social calendar. Her taxi rides were the only variation in her daily routine. She certainly would have remembered the makes and models, including the sounds they made.”

  He saw that their incredulous expressions weren’t softening in the slightest. He became even more disoriented. His theory, which had felt so watertight, might actually be a runner’s high delusion after all. And now it was being replaced by paralyzing uncertainty. It was like the morning after—he had called his team of detectives into work on a beautiful Sunday while hopped up on endorphins.

  But he couldn’t retreat now. “Lea Kalenius explained to me once how people confined to wheelchairs can learn to register sounds better than normal people. Rauha Salmi was a textbook case. Over the years she had learned to differentiate the sounds of the different handicap taxis that came to Wolf House. And the one that had been there the most often, of course, was Ilmari Laine’s Transit.”

  Suddenly Koskinen realized he was using a pleading voice—please believe me—and the expression in Pekki and Kaatio’s eyes was unmistakable. It made his blood boil. He felt like shouting, “Fine, if you can’t understand something so obvious, go home you obstinate pricks.”

  Ulla suddenly came to Koskinen’s defense. “That night Rauha heard the sound of the vehicle. She couldn’t recognize it, but she was sure of one thing—it wasn’t Laine’s Transit.”

  Koskinen gave Ulla a glance that said thank you and then picked up the thread. “That was what Salmi was trying to explain to me on Wednesday, and later also to Kaatio. But we misinterpreted what she was saying.”

  “And from what dark recess of your mind did this new interpretation bubble up?”

  “I didn’t make it up,” Koskinen said and smiled to Ulla at the end of the table. “Ulla and I went to Kangasala last night and questioned the nurse who was fired from Wolf House this summer. Pike gave us a good hint. She said that the word ‘dance’ could mean something completely different, and Ulla cleverly got from there to ‘Transit’.”

  Ulla shoulders trembled as if from a sudden chill. “It just occurred to me to wonder if Salmi’s sharp ears ended up being her downfall.”

  Pekki whispered in a sardonic tone, “The biddy who knew too much.”

  “And that other resident was talking bull?” Kaatio continued in the same vein. “The one who claimed he’d seen Laine’s van.”

  Koskinen quickly turned the question to his advantage: “What Taisto Toivakka saw tells us that the car at least somewhat resembled a Transit. So the vehicle in question was on the larger side, at least a minivan.”

  Kaatio laughed dryly. “Wow, we’re really getting somewhere now. We’ve really narrowed down the pool of suspects: everyone who owns or drives a minivan.”

  “The situation isn’t all that bad,” Koskinen said. “We just have to come up with whose van it was if it wasn’t Laine’s.”

  Kaatio snorted. “Whose van! We could spend all Sunday sitting here thinking about that.”

  Koskinen shook his head with theatric self-importance. “It won’t take quite that long. I already know.”

  He savored his audience’s reaction for a moment. Even Eskola dropped his military posture and scratched his head in confusion, messing up his part.

  Even Ulla couldn’t get anything out of her mouth but an astounded, “Tell us!”

  “The van was Anniina Salonen’s. The big nurse.”

  “Now you’re really barking up the wrong tree,” Kaatio said jubilantly. “Salonen has a little red Fiat. Even a blind man couldn’t confuse that with a van, not even from the taillights. And even less from the sound.”

  Koskinen smiled at Kaatio as compassionately as he could. “Stop interrupting! Have any of you heard about Ketterä’s music hobby?”

  “Yeah, there was mention of it…he played the piano,” Pekki said and cocked his mouth hesitantly. “What the hell does that have to do with any of this?”

  “He did indeed play the piano,” Koskinen said, miming the action. “Lea Kalenius told me that the Nokia Lions Club wanted to support his hobby and donated a piano to Ketterä. Lea
also mentioned in passing that Anniina Salonen was the one who brought the piano to Wolf House in July.”

  The others still didn’t grasp what Koskinen was getting at. “I didn’t get it myself at first either. It ate at me for two days, and it didn’t click until today. You need a big car to move a piano.”

  “At least you couldn’t do it with that little Italian job,” Ulla said.

  Eskola jumped in too: “So Anniina Salonen has two cars.”

  Koskinen rewarded him with the same enthusiasm as if he had just realized it himself, “Exactly! I just checked with the DMV. In addition to the Fiat, there is a ’99 Toyota Hiace registered in Salonen’s name. The owner on the title is listed as one Uolevi Salonen. Anniina is unmarried, so I’m betting that Uolevi is either her father or brother.”

  Ulla leaned her chin in her palms and smiled at Koskinen with endearing disbelief. “And you’re really trying to say that Salonen picked up Timonen that night?”

  Koskinen replied with silence and Ulla continued: “And she also picked up Hannu Ketterä from Sotkan Street? After Laine had left in his handicap taxi? Those are pretty out-there assumptions.”

  Ulla’s unexpected doubt flummoxed Koskinen. For a moment he had gotten his self-confidence back, but now it was looking again like his theory didn’t make any sense at all.

  However, Pekki surprised everyone by suddenly pushing his chair out back and jumping up. “Hell’s bells! Didn’t I tell you?”

  “What?”

  “I was right all along. I knew from the beginning that the nutcase behind this was playing part-time God. We’ve seen it before. Salonen thinks taking mercy on these poor suffering souls is some great act of compassion. First she put Timonen out of his misery, then she freed Salmi from the prison she’d been in her whole life, and then she did Ketterä. That Amazon woman probably would have done in everyone in the building if WE hadn’t caught on.”

  Koskinen was amused by Pekki’s use of the personal pronoun. He brought him back down to earth by calmly saying, “It probably didn’t go quite like that. I doubt Salonen has ever hurt a fly at Wolf House.”

  His sudden outburst had irritated Pekki’s chronically inflamed vocal chords again. He sat down and croaked, “What the hell do you mean?”

  “First, that the mercy killer you’ve been profiling wouldn’t have started with the troublemakers, but with the ones who were suffering in silence. So the Timonen case doesn’t support your theory.”

  Ulla swung to Koskinen’s side again and continued where he had left off: “This has to be some sort of settling of scores in the motorcycle gang. That’s where we’re going to find the answer.”

  Pekki had a hard time swallowing what he was hearing. “So Salonen isn’t involved after all?”

  “Oh, I think she is,” Koskinen said. “But even if she owned ten vans, that still wouldn’t make her guilty. And I also don’t think Ketterä is in any danger.”

  “Don’t forget the wheelchair we found in Hervanta yesterday,” Pekki said, raising his finger in warning. “And we also confirmed that the pillow was Ketterä’s.”

  “I never doubted that for a second,” Koskinen replied in a friendly tone and then turned to Ulla. “I should’ve taken your suggestion yesterday that Ketterä has two wheelchairs more seriously. Obviously the chair we found in Hervanta was just thrown by the side of the road as a red herring. Was that what you were getting at?”

  “I don’t know,” Ulla said, tugging at her ear thoughtfully. “Maybe subconsciously.”

  Kaatio wasn’t having his best day ever. He rubbed his red eyes and then admitted sullenly, “I don’t understand anything. Salonen transported Timonen in her van, but she’s still innocent. We found Ketterä’s wheelchair abandoned, but he still isn’t in any danger. What the hell are you driving at, Koskinen?”

  “Hell indeed,” Koskinen sneered and then decided to lay all of his cards out on the table.

  “The idea actually started to germinate last night when we were questioning Pirkko-Liisa Rinne in Kangasala. She told us something interesting: the only people who understood Rauha Salmi’s speech at Wolf House were her and Anniina Salonen. Apparently the others, even Lea Kalenius, were too busy and tense to stop and listen closely.”

  He saw interest in his listeners’ eyes and continued with new self-confidence: “In the middle of the race today I remembered something that happened at Wolf House on Wednesday. Rauha Salmi was sitting in her wheelchair trying to explain something. The only people who heard it were me, Lea Kalenius, and Anniina Salonen.”

  As he spoke, Koskinen paced back and forth, noticing how his thigh muscles were starting to stiffen. But he still couldn’t sit, instead throwing questions excitedly into the air. “Why didn’t Anniina Salonen react if she understood Salmi’s speech? Why didn’t she interpret what Salmi was saying?”

  No one wanted to answer, so Koskinen did it himself. “Because she was protecting Timonen’s killer.” Instead of applause, all he heard around the table was incredulous muttering.

  “So that was your big point?”

  “More than that,” Koskinen said. “Pike also told us that one of the other nurses had a budding relationship with one of the male residents, and she hinted directly at Anniina Salonen.”

  “But that’s just rumors,” Pekki said coldly. “Bitter gossip from a trollop who got handed a pink slip.”

  Koskinen continued as if he hadn’t heard. “The other thing that popped into my head during the run was the propane tank in Anniina Salonen’s Fiat.”

  “Propane tank?” Kaatio said suspiciously. “Did you say propane tank?”

  “Yeah. A yellow propane tank. I saw it yesterday in passing in the back of Salonen’s Fiat.”

  “What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

  Koskinen enigmatically scanned the eyes around the table. “Where do you need a propane tank?”

  Eskola raised his hand like a school boy.

  “Well?”

  “Maybe in a boat or at a cabin or…”

  “Good boy, Antti! Now you’re catching on.”

  Eskola reddened with pleasure. But it was obvious from his round face that he didn’t have the slightest clue what he was catching on to. Neither did the others.

  Riipinen sucked on his inhaler and then coughed like he was getting real smoke from it. “May be the sleep deprivation, but you lost me ages ago.”

  Koskinen wagged his finger. “Just be patient. Yesterday I went to Nokia to see Hannu Ketterä’s parents. While we were there we happened to talk about their summer cabin.”

  “What about it?”

  “They said that Raimo Timonen made his fateful dive it off the dock of that very same cabin. She also revealed an interesting fact: their son liked spending time at the cabin. He loved the place. But Hannu had stopped going there after his own accident, so the Ketteräs sold the cabin the next summer.”

  Kaatio was rubbing his temples, Ulla was yawning, and Pekki’s lips were pursed. Everything made it clear that they didn’t have the slightest clue what their lieutenant was shooting at.

  “Now, listen up!” Koskinen continued. “I just called Iiro Ketterä and asked him who they sold the cabin to. He remembered the buyer’s name immediately. It was some guy named Sundqvist, a communications engineer for Sonera. I got the number and luckily he happened to be home. He said that he had moved to Jyväskylä for a new job and sold the cabin last July.”

  He paused for effect and then dropped his bomb: “He also remembered the buyer’s name: Anniina Salonen.”

  Everyone stared at Koskinen blankly, and his assurance of victory once again started crumbling. He again started doubting his own conclusions, thinking once again that they might just be ravings brought on by the endorphins.

  Pekki sat with his shoulders hunched and leaned on the table with his arms. The expression behind his black-rimmed glasses was one of pity.

  “Are you trying to say that Ketterä killed Timonen and Salmi? And Anniina Salonen was h
is accomplice?”

  Koskinen spread his arms. “Something like that.”

  He looked to Ulla for help, but she was rubbing the bridge of her nose with her index finger, looking like she was thinking about what she would make for dinner for her kids that night.

  But Eskola managed to open his mouth. “I think the lieutenant is right.”

  Pekki ignored Eskola’s brown-tongued comment. He stared at Koskinen with a challenge in his eyes. “Why would Ketterä have killed Timonen? I could understand it the other way around. Timonen had plenty of reasons to hate Ketterä. He stole his girlfriend right after the diving accident.”

  Koskinen didn’t have an answer for Pekki’s question, just an inkling. But he still wanted to keep it to himself. He didn’t have the patience to listen to any more incredulous carping. His exhaustion made him doubt his ability to stomach it.

  He tried to conceal his doubts. “I’m sure the motive will become clear enough once we get a chance to interrogate the individuals in question.”

  This still didn’t arouse any support, and now Riipinen also took a turn at the cross-examination. “What about Salmi then? Why did Ketterä kill a poor, harmless old lady?”

  Riipinen ended his question by taking a pull on his inhaler as if for emphasis, and the sound made Kaatio’s nerves snap. “Do you have to keep sucking on that pacifier of yours the whole goddamn time!”

  Offended, Riipinen took the inhaler out of his mouth. “Easy for you to flap your jaw when you haven’t been up for the past twenty hours.”

  “Why don’t you suck your thumb? It would make less noise!”

  “It’s my own business what I suck on…”

  “You’re never going to kick the habit anyway.”

  This was too much for Riipinen. He pointed his plastic cigarette replacement at Kaatio and, with his voice shaking, said, “If Koskinen did it, why can’t I?”

  At this point Ulla joined the conversation again. “Koskinen wrestles in a completely different class from the rest of you.”

  All five men turned to look at Ulla. Her cheeks reddened and her smirk faded. “What I meant was…was how many of you could run twenty miles and still be up there pacing around as lucid as him.”

 

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