by Ann Yost
We needed to find out the truth, not just for Tom Kukka or Riitta or Danny or Captain Jack or for Alex Martin or Mrs. Ollanketo. We needed to find the murderer because if this case was left unresolved, there would be no peace for any of us. The sounds of kids playing tag on a summer afternoon would never be the same.
My brain felt scrambled as I parked in the alley and followed the dogs up the garden path. I needed a pick-me-up. Maybe a glass of wine or a piece of chocolate, neither of which I had in the house. I considered getting back in the Jeep and running to Shopko but before I could definitely decide for or against that initiative, the back door opened.
"Hey," said my sister, "where have you been? Time to wash up for supper."
"Supper? You brought me supper?" In that moment she looked like a Finnish fairy godmother.
"Well, to be fair, Elli brought it. Suomen Makaronilaatikkocasserole. The long, fancy word just means Finnish macaroni casserole but eggs and nutmeg give it a light, exotic taste. It is my favorite comfort food. Along with chocolate and coffee. "I brought salad and fresh pulla," she said, referring to the bread. "And chocolate walnut fudge for dessert."
"You," I said, "are an angel."
As I stepped over the threshold into the kitchen, the combined scent of casserole and bread nearly bowled me over.
"Can we eat now?"
"Soon," Elli said. "Sonya's tied up with a patient and it would be polite to wait for her."
"And, as an added incentive," Sofi said, "She's bringing the wine."
As soon as Sonya arrived we took seats around my mom's round wicker table, covered with a red-and-white-checked oilcloth, and helped ourselves, family style. Afterwards we talked and laughed. It was such a relief to be with friends I could trust, friends who had no connection with the terrible events at the lighthouse. It was like slipping into a cold, clear lake after a sauna, like chugging a drink of ice-cold water. The laughter and companionship, along with the sustaining food, made me feel as if we would get through this nightmare.
We held off talking about the murders until we'd consumed everything but coffee and fudge. By then I felt refreshed enough to jump back into the fray.
"I need your help," I said, finally. "I feel like I've hit a dead end in this investigation. A cul-de-sac, of sorts. You know that Clump has arrested Tom Kukka. I can't bring myself to believe he'd have killed two people but I can't see that there's anyone else. I'd like to lay out the facts that I have and see if anything jumps out at you."
They agreed to it and I started back at the beginning, when Alex Martin showed up at the Juhannus Festival's faux wedding on the last day of the year following Johanna Marttinen's death and ran through events up until this morning's evacuation.
"Let's go back a bit," Sofi said. "Saturday, when Martin came back was it still within the time frame of his year? In other words, was it the 365th day of the proscribed year or the 366th?"
"Does it matter?"
"It might. If the will provided for a strict definition of a year, he might never have been in line to inherit the lighthouse at all. He might have been too late."
"I'll check on that," I said, "but it seems to me that Erik indicated the courts might be lenient within reason about a property transferring from parent to child."
"I notice," Sonya said, "there's a lot of confusion about the disposition of the property, whether it was to go to Alex Martin or to Riitta or to the county board of commissioners. It seems to me that's a key point. That, and the letter he supposedly wrote to Riitta."
"I'd be interested in knowing more about the victim," Elli said. "What was your impression of him, Hatti? I mean he rowed out to the island with you, right? And you guys watched the Northern Lights together. Did he seem like a decent guy?"
"Decent," I said, trying to look at him objectively, "with a core of steel. On the one hand I think he had a generous impulse to let Riitta have the lighthouse but on the other, he was almost obsessive about not letting anyone take advantage of him. That seemed like his guiding principle, you know?"
"What about Chakra," Sofi asked. "She was obsessed with him, right? What if their rendezvous meant more to her than it did to him? What if she decided to sneak back into the lighthouse later to punish him?"
"It could have happened," I admitted. "The trouble with Chakra as a suspect is that she wasn't in the lighthouse on Sunday so she couldn't have poisoned Mrs. O. But, other than that, it's certainly possible that Chakra was the person Danny saw coming up the circular stairs."
"If Danny wasn't lying," Sofi said, with a sigh. "I can't believe how hard it is to sort this all out. And it's made worse by all these people lying to protect somebody else."
"The weirdest thing to me," Sonya said, "is the hiding of the body. The facts indicate Alex Martin fell on the sand just before one a.m. because of the dry surface under the body. But it wasn't there when you were out at six a.m. and it wasn't there at 8:30 a.m., either. And then, hey presto, it showed up at noon."
"So apparently it was moved," Elli said, taking up the narrative, "and if it was moved, you have to ask yourself, why?"
"Alibi purposes," Sofi suggested. "General confusion?"
"Hatti," Sonya said, suddenly, "in that timeline you gave us you said that Alex may have asked Captain Jack to deliver the letter in the envelope to Riitta's room. But there wasn't any time in there for Alex to write it."
"It's a good point but we've got to remain skeptical about all the eyewitness stuff," Sofi said. "We only know, independently, that is, through Hatti's testimony, that Danny was in the watch room from about eleven-forty-five until midnight and that Riitta showed up a few minutes later. After that we have only their words. I think we can assume Riitta stretched out her time to try to protect Danny. What we don't know is whether Danny was really up there in that alcove. His story about Captain Jack coming out of the watch room and running into someone coming up on the stairs could be a complete fabrication."
"But Captain Jack is missing," I said, accepting what I'd been fighting against. "And that argues that he saw the killer, and that the killer, knowing that the next day Jack would put two and two together, got rid of him."
"It could be Danny," Elli said, in a quiet voice. "I know you don't want it to be, but it could be. There may have been no one else up there. He could have killed Alex for whatever reason, then killed Jack to eliminate him as a witness. He could have thought Mrs. Ollanketo had lip-read something he'd said to someone and thought he had to eliminate her, too. He was on the landing, the next day, right? He could have given Mrs. O. the fatal dose of Digitalin."
"But, El," Sonya said, "what about the letter? Why would Danny deliver a letter that gave the lighthouse and the money to the county instead of to his mother?"
Unfortunately, there was a very good answer for that.
"He didn't know," I said, heavily. "He didn't know Alex had promised the lighthouse and trust fund to his mom. He could have found the letter after he killed Alex, and delivered it because it wasn't, after all, the worst scenario. Riitta would get to stay at the lighthouse and run the retirement home. All would be as it was before Alex Martin came home."
"It'll kill Riitta," Sofi said. "It just can't be Danny. Is there any chance it could just be an old-fashioned accident and that Mrs. O.'s heart wore out?"
I grinned at her. "You sound just like Erik Sundback." I paused, then spoke. "There's one other thing. I think Miss Thyra is involved."
"Good grief, Hatti," Sofi said, "she's a year younger than God."
"I know, I know. What I mean is, I think she saw something. She was up all night preparing for her seminar and she's been acting weird and guilty ever since."
"Like the way Lars acted after he'd had the one-night stand with that waitress," Sofi said, grimly. "That's what you mean, isn't it, Hatti?"
"I did think of that incident," I admitted. "In any case, there's her behavior and there's something else. The last time I spoke with Mrs. Ollanketo she asked me to give a particular mitten to Miss
Thyra. At first I thought that since she had slept through the seminar, she might have thought it hadn't happened yet but what if it was intended to be a clue? After all, the murderer thought Mrs. O. knew too much. What if she did know too much? What if she was trying to pass along her knowledge with the blue mitten?"
"Pass it to Miss Thyra?"
"Well, yes, but not only Miss Thyra. Maybe she figured Thyra would understand the clue and would pass it along to someone else. The sheriff, for example. Or me."
"Have you talked with Thyra," Elli asked. "Maybe she hasn't had a chance to tell you."
"I went to her room last night. It was really late and I pretty much scared her, I think, but that's exactly what I asked her. She pointed out the pattern was roses and that roses have thorns."
"She fingered Danny?" Elli sounded appalled.
"That's how it seemed to me. But maybe it isn't that. Maybe she was just putting up a smokescreen, a kind of red herring. Maybe she's protecting the killer out of fear."
"That doesn't make much sense," Sofi said.
"It does, in a way. As she pointed out to me, she isn't mobile. It was the same for Flossie Ollanketo. They were old and poor and running away or hiding out wasn't an option. They were sitting ducks."
"So," Sonya said, softly, "was Captain Jack." She smiled, apologetically. "I'm not sure we helped you very much." Just then the doorbell rang and I glanced up at my mother's big kitchen clock.
"Who'd be here at this hour?"
"I'll check," Sonya said, disappearing through the kitchen door and down the hallway. She returned a couple of minutes later holding a package.
"Who was it," Sofi joked. "Jehovah's Witnesses?"
"Max Guthrie." Sonya's creamy complexion appeared pale and, for once, she looked every year of her age.
"What is it," I asked, frightened. "Did something happen?"
"No. He just came to give you this." She handed me the package and I opened it to find a soft, folded tee shirt printed with the word Big Two-Hearted River.
"Cool," I said. "It's just a joke. Why didn't he come in?"
"He said he wouldn't because you had company and besides it was late."
Sofi chanted in a singsong voice."Hatti has a boyfriend, Hatti has a boyfriend. And she just missed a booty call."
Sonya didn't laugh. She didn't even smile. And neither did Elli. She looked at me, searchingly, and held her tongue.
Needless to say, when my visitors left a few minutes later, I was happy to close the door on them. I let the dogs out one last time then dragged up the front hall stairs to my childhood bedroom where I stripped, showered and pulled on a ragged nightshirt. Then I stretched out on my back and stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars Pops had stuck to my ceiling twenty years earlier. The stars were yellowed and they'd lost their glow but they were still there. I was still here, too. Was this where I wanted to stay?
I didn't know the answer to that any more than I knew the answer to the question of who had killed Alex Martin.
Chapter 28
I had just slapped duct tape over Miss Thyra's mouth and pinched her nose shut with a clothespin when my cellphone chimed and I grabbed it. My heart was making so much noise I could barely hear the caller's voice and I was unsure whether or not I was still asleep.
"Hello? Hello? Emergency?"
There was a brief pause and then Riitta said, "Hatti? Are you all right? Did I wake you?"
I sat up and, belatedly, recognized the old wooden dresser Pops had painted pink for me the year I was ten and the plastic easy chair with the skirt that had provided a hiding place for my guinea pig during that same era. I inhaled a deep breath and calmed down. "Sorry. I was in the middle of a nightmare."
"I don't wonder with everything that's going on. I'm sorry I woke you." I noticed she sounded better, less stressed.
"What's going on? Any news about Tom?"
"Tom?"
She sounded as if she could barely remember the man.
"Oh, no. He's still in Frog Creek as far as I know." Again her voice changed. This time I thought I caught an undercurrent of pain.
"Don't worry," I said, consolingly. "Clump can't keep him forever."
"I don't know why not. I doubt if anyone else will come forward to confess."
"You're upset with him? He was just trying to keep Danny from being arrested."
"You'd think he'd get tired of always playing the hero."
The acid criticism was so unlike her I was shocked into silence while Riitta tried to justify her attitude.
"The thing is that the confession's too obvious," she explained. "There's not enough motive. Anyway, no one who knows him will believe Tom Kukka pushed someone off a tower."
"I agree."
"Yes, but don't you see? That just means everyone will know he confessed to protect someone."
"And you think the gun will turn to Danny?"
"He was up in the tower that night and he had years of pent up anger against his father. It looks like a spontaneous crime, too, doesn't it? Something a nineteen-year-old would be likely to do in a reckless moment."
"I grant you all that but then why hasn't Clump arrested Danny?"
"He doesn't have the evidence to counter a confession. Besides, you know our sheriff. He's always interested in the low-hanging fruit. But as soon as somebody proves it wasn't Tom, Danny will be in the crosshairs."
It occurred to me that Riitta's words seemed to have come straight from Erik Sundback's mouth. She sounded brainwashed.
"We've got to get this cleared up, you know? We can't get the retirement home up and running until this is over. Do you have any ideas about it?"
"The good news is, there are lots of clues. The bad news is, they don't seem to add up to anybody in particular." Except your son.
She sighed. "Well, I apologize again for waking you up. I really called about this afternoon's tea party."
"If you want to cancel, I completely understand. It's a tense time for everybody."
"Oh, no, no. Erik's cook is in the kitchen, as we speak, creating a banquet worthy of the Grand Hotel. You can't believe this house. Everything is state-of-the-art. Even the floors are heated in the winter! The kitchen is a perfect dream with thick, marble countertops and every appliance known to man. It's hard to believe we're in Red Jacket."
I wondered if, buried under all the years of self-sacrifice and unselfishness, Riitta coveted a home of her own. Maybe she was a little bit human, after all.
"How's Miss Thyra holding up?"
"She's still acting strange. I thought that once we were away from the lighthouse she'd get back to being herself."
"Be careful what you wish for," I said, remembering Miss Thyra's sharp tongue.
"She won't leave her room, Hatti. She won't leave her bed. I told her about all the women coming over for tea and she said she'd come out for that but she doesn't look well. I wonder if she's got another migraine."
Maybe. If migraine was a code word for guilt trip.
"My sense is that she knows something about Alex's murder."
"Then why doesn't she say something?"
"I think she will if we can just give her time."
"Time," she repeated, dully. "You know what? I'd give almost anything for this to never have happened. In the end, nothing will have changed. The lighthouse will become a retirement home whether I run it or not and that's what would have happened if Alex had never come back. Why couldn't he have stayed out of it?" And then she muttered, with apparent irrelevance, "damn Tom, anyway."
A quote popped into my head.
"Remember what Snorkmaiden said in Comet in Moominland? I would save your life eight times a day if only I could."
There was such a long silence and it was so absolute I wondered if she'd hung up. When she finally spoke, she was all business.
"Erik suggested we invite the local ladies to tea, Diane Hakala, Mrs. Sorensen, Edna Moilanen, Ronja, Elli and Sofi and Sonya. He thought they might like to see the house and that the
y could cheer up Miss Thyra."
"The younger women are all working," I said, "but I'll check with the church ladies. I'm sure they'd love to come to tea."
"Hatti," she hesitated.
"What is it? What can I do?"
"Just ask them to bring along their knitting. You know how that is. Knitting always makes everything more relaxed."
She sounded so much like her old practical, low-key self that I suddenly couldn't hold back.
"Riitta, are you going to marry Erik?"
"I don't know. Anyway, he hasn't asked me."
"You must know whether you love him or not."
She sighed. "Life is not that straightforward. I think you've discovered that for yourself, haven't you? It's not black and white, love or not love. Wasn't it Shakespeare who talked about having one bright, particular star? Well, that's a lovely idea, like saying there is one soulmate for each of us. But it isn't true. People are generally lovable and there are always others to consider in any decision. Rest assured I'll try to make the best decision for everyone involved, okay?"
I wasn't okay with that.
"I think this one time you should just be selfish. Do what you want to do."
"You're a good friend. I'll see you this afternoon."
"Wait," I said, remembering my own agenda. "Do you have any financial papers regarding the lighthouse?"
"There's a notebook of all the stuff we've given the county over the past year, including the value of the property and plans for improvements. Erik's got a copy in his study. You're welcome to take a look at it this afternoon."