The Hummingbird

by Kati Hiekkapelto

  Could Payedar Chelkin be so crazed?

  Just then she received another text message.

  Anna slowed down and pulled in at a bus stop. The screen on her phone showed an icon the shape of an envelope. Without even looking, she knew where it had come from. Or rather, she didn’t know at all.

  I wanna fuck u, bitch!

  The number from which the message had been sent was different. Of course, this was standard fare for professional criminals: change your number and service provider regularly enough to make tracing the messages impossible. But this message I’m not deleting, Anna resolved.

  21

  HELENA LAAKSO lived in the village of Saloinen in a small detached house behind the local shop, the bank and a pub, and located about a kilometre from Riikka’s house. She was a small, nervous-looking woman, who had read the news in the paper and called the police helpline to explain that she had been out walking her dog on the evening of 21 August and had seen a car driving towards the running track at Selkämaa.

  Helena Laakso greeted Anna and Sari, showed them into the living room and gestured for them to sit down in soft, velour-covered armchairs. Pots of tea and coffee had been set on the coffee table along with freshly made scones and small cakes. Mrs Laakso brought in a jug of cream and small spoons, placed them carefully on the tray, agitatedly swiped at a grey hair that had escaped from her loosely tied bun and was hanging across her face. Anna noticed that the woman’s hands were trembling with anxiety.

  Anna began to wonder whether the sighting of the car was nothing but a lonely old woman’s way of getting someone to visit her, of feeling needed and important, if only for a moment, for someone. Sari seemed to be thinking something similar, as she glanced at Anna with a sceptical look in her eyes. Let’s see what this is all about, Sari whispered when the lady went into the kitchen to fetch the sugar bowl. Anna looked at the knick-knacks and photographs on the bookshelves: confirmation and graduation photographs, newly married couples and little children, grandchildren presumably. A dog. And where was the dog? Only now did Anna notice that there was no mutt scampering around between their legs, and they hadn’t heard a single bark all the time they’d been here.

  ‘So, you were out walking your dog on the evening of 21 August,’ Anna began as Mrs Laakso brought the sugar bowl to the table. The lady’s restless eyes looked at the tray to make sure that she had brought everything they needed.

  ‘I walk my dog every day,’ she replied firmly, dispelling the officers’ slightly scatty, uncertain first impression. Her low, powerful voice would have been better suited to another body, one younger and less fragile.

  ‘And where is the dog now?’ Sari asked and sipped her coffee.

  The woman stopped and looked at Sari with an air of concern.

  ‘Excellent coffee,’ Sari added hastily.

  It was true. The coffee was strong and black. Caffeine bit urgently into her palette.

  Mrs Laakso visibly relaxed and sat down on the sofa.

  ‘Oh good,’ she said with satisfaction. ‘They told me in the shop that the machine was idiot-proof, but you never know. I’ve only used it a few times. I bought it yesterday.’

  ‘You have a new coffee maker?’ Anna asked.

  ‘Yes, it’s one of these new-fangled things that George Clooney advertises on the television. Terribly expensive, but the coffee is simply marvellous. Please, take some milk if it’s too strong. I only have strong coffee at the moment. I’ll have to order a milder blend and some decaffeinated stuff next time I’m online.’

  Helena Laakso smiled at the success of her coffee and no longer seemed remotely unsure of herself. So much for first impressions, thought Anna.

  ‘Ah yes, the dog,’ said Mrs Laakso and gave an energetic whistle. There was a scraping of claws against the wooden floor in the kitchen and an enormous bull mastiff came plodding into the living room. It lay down at its owner’s feet and didn’t pay the guests the slightest attention.

  ‘I’ve taught him to stay in the kitchen until I call him whenever we have guests. I’ve always been annoyed at dogs that run into the hallway jumping and yelping. After all, you are my guests.’

  The small woman scratched her gigantic dog behind the ears. The dog closed his eyes with an air of calm. With a dog like that nobody would be afraid to live alone or walk alone in the woods.

  ‘You wanted to ask me about the car,’ the woman said eventually.

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Could you tell us more specifically about that evening? What time did you leave the house and what route did you take?’

  ‘I remember that evening very well indeed, though it was a while ago now. I’d spent three days on a grouse-cooking course with the pensioners’ association in the home-economics class at the high school and hadn’t had much time to take Mörkö for his walk. Of course, I’d taken him out for a wee and for a short spin round the shops. Once the course is over, I’ll take him for a good long walk, I thought. It was a Sunday evening. We left here around seven o’clock. From here it’s about five kilometres to the shore. We were there around eight.’

  ‘So you didn’t walk along the running track?’

  ‘No. I prefer to walk along the shore, because I can let him off the leash.’

  ‘Was there much traffic along Selkämaantie?’

  ‘No. There never is. The only thing I saw was this red car that passed us outside old Raappana’s house. It remember it, because it sped past and threw up a stone that hit me on the thigh.’

  ‘Was it driving fast?’

  ‘I rather think it was.’

  ‘Do you think it was heading towards the running track?’

  ‘It must have gone there, because I didn’t see it at the shore.’

  ‘Can you describe the car in any more detail? What make was it?’ asked Sari.

  ‘I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you. I’ve never understood cars. My late husband would have known. It was just an average car. Red. Not especially big but not small either.’

  ‘Did you see the driver?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Not even a glance?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  ‘If we showed you some photographs of mid-size red cars, do you think you would recognise the make?’

  ‘We could try, but I don’t think so. They all rather look the same to me.’

  ‘So, the car passed you at around 7.30 p.m. When did you start walking back to the house?’

  ‘We didn’t stay there all that long, because there were men out hunting in the reeds. I threw the dog a stick near the end of the path for a while and then we walked back. It was before half past eight. We walked rather more briskly on the way back; we were home in an hour.’

  ‘How did you know that there were hunters by the shore?’

  ‘I saw them.’

  ‘Where exactly?’

  ‘They arrived by car. Two men in camouflage outfits with rifles over their shoulders.’

  ‘What kind of car were they driving?’

  ‘A large black station wagon. The men looked quite young, but they were most pleasant, said hello, and one of them stroked Mörkö, asked what breed he is. Nice young men, but they seemed to be in quite a hurry, said they had to be in position before the birds flew overhead.’

  ‘So, in fact, you saw two cars.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. But those young men were just out hunting,’ said Helena Laakso.

  ‘One of those cars belongs to the killer,’ said Anna as they drove back towards the city. Sari was behind the wheel.

  ‘The killer drove to the track by car and waited for Riikka. I’ll bet it was the red one. The killer knew she’d be jogging out there.’

  ‘And there was no blue Laguna.’

  ‘Right. If it was Virve, she certainly wasn’t driving Jere’s car.’

  ‘We’ve already spoken to a couple of guys that were out there hunting. Could they be the same men Mrs Laakso was talking about?’

  ‘I reckon they’re probably the sa
me guys, but we should check it out. I’ll call Rauno.’

  ‘Good. I’ll get Virkkunen to tell one of the assistants to look for images of all potential red, average-sized cars so that Mrs Laakso can try and identify the vehicle.’

  ‘It’s probably a waste of time. Most women don’t pay attention to cars.’

  ‘I doubt most men pay attention to cars either, but we’ve got to try. If we could narrow it down to a few possible makes, even that would be something.’

  ‘Riikka receives a call from an unlisted number at 6.30 p.m. Soon afterwards she goes out for a run. Did someone invite her out there?’

  Anna’s stomach tightened as she thought of the messages she too had received. Should she tell Sari about them? But then she would also have to tell her about the one-night stand with Petri Ketola – and she didn’t want to do that.

  ‘It’s possible. And if she did, that invitation was almost certainly from the murderer,’ said Anna.

  ‘What about the other call earlier in the day? That was from an unlisted number, too.’

  ‘Probably the same person. First asked her out for lunch, then for a run.’

  ‘So Riikka knew her killer.’

  ‘Certainly seems that way.’

  ‘Tracing an unlisted number is very difficult,’ Anna said almost to herself.

  ‘I know. People like this change operators and prepaid phones like socks.’

  Anna sighed. Perhaps it would make sense to talk to Sari, after all. Instead, she said: ‘I’ve been round nearly all the restaurants in town, and almost all of them serve salmon and pine nuts. And nobody remembers seeing Riikka.’

  ‘They didn’t necessarily eat at a restaurant.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘Why does this all feel so difficult? It’s as though we’re looking in completely the wrong direction,’ Sari sighed.

  ‘I know, orbiting the wrong planet, more like.’

  Jussi Järvinen had been invited to the station for an interview. The telephone call had come just as he had arrived home from work and his wife was massaging his shoulders. Thankfully Jussi had a habit of taking work calls behind closed doors in the utility room. His wife didn’t wonder why he withdrew there. Though this was no work call.

  At the main door, Jussi asked his way to the Violent Crimes Unit. The girl at reception made a call and asked Jussi to wait. Pretty good-looking, he thought, and eyed the girl just a bit too long, making her blush. Soon a large, dishevelled man appeared from the lift, mumbled a hello and took Jussi up to the unit. He had decided not to reveal anything. His private life was irrelevant in this shocking situation. It had nothing to do with Ville’s murder. It couldn’t. Jussi told himself to calm down.

  ‘Hello,’ the man said again once they arrived at the room that must have been his office. ‘Esko Niemi.’

  The man reached out a rough paw to shake Jussi’s hand.

  ‘Hello there,’ said Jussi, trying to shake the man’s hand firmly and give a good, honest impression of himself.

  ‘Please, take a seat.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘So, Jussi Järvinen. You are Ville Pollari’s friend and training partner.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. Please, just call me Jussi.’

  ‘How long have you known Ville?’

  ‘About five years, not all that long. My wife and I moved to Simonkoski near Asemakylä village about five years ago and I joined the local orienteering club. That’s where we met. The Pollari couple had just moved to the area too, and we started training together.’

  ‘Did you see each other socially?’

  ‘A bit. The four of us would sometimes spend the evening together. Not all that often.’

  ‘When did you last spend an evening like this?’

  ‘I think it was at the beginning of the summer. Yes, a week before Midsummer, decided to crack open the barbecue season together. We were at our place.’

  ‘Did anything out of the ordinary happen? Anything you might remember?’

  ‘No. Everything went just as we’d planned.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘The food was good and there was plenty of it. The wives chatted by themselves, and Jussi and I had a few beers. That was it. All in all, a very nice evening.’

  ‘Did Ville say anything that stuck in your mind? Something that might be related to our investigation?’

  ‘At the party?’

  ‘There or somewhere else. Did he seem afraid of something? Did he think anyone was following him or mention anything out of the ordinary?’

  Good, they’re only interested in Ville. This is going well. At least I don’t have to lie about anything, thought Jussi, relieved.

  ‘I certainly didn’t notice anything. Or then again … maybe there was something, now that you mention it.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘Later in the summer we went on a long run round Häyrysenniemi and there was a car parked by the track. Ville noticed it, said he’d seen it there once before, but that he’d never seen anyone else out running.’

  ‘What kind of car?’

  ‘I didn’t look at it all that closely. A fairly old car. Red. I didn’t think there was anything strange about it. At least, at the time I didn’t.’

  ‘What time of day was this run? The day Ville mentioned the car?’

  ‘Quite late, nine or ten in the evening. We usually ran quite late. Because of work.’

  ‘The sighting of this car is significant. It could well be linked to these two murders. Try to remember what kind of car it was. Any details you can think of.’

  Jussi strained to remember. He tried to think of the last run he and Ville had taken together. It was at the beginning of July, soon after the start of his summer holiday. It was a hot day. That’s why they’d set out much later than usual. They had taken Ville’s car to Häyrysenniemi; Ville had picked him up on the way. That was their usual arrangement. They pulled up in the parking area, and they had barely switched off the engine when Ville mentioned the car.

  ‘Who else is out here at this hour? That car was parked there the last time I was here, and the time before. I’ve never seen anyone else out running though,’ Ville had said.

  Jussi was taken aback at how clearly he remembered Ville’s words, words he hadn’t paid the least attention to at the time.

  But he couldn’t remember anything specific about the car.

  ‘Have you seen that red car since?’

  Jussi thought hard.

  ‘Not that I can remember.’

  ‘Did Ville visit Häyrysenniemi often?’ asked the policeman.

  ‘Three times a week.’

  ‘What day of the week was it when you saw the car?’

  ‘Let me think. My summer holiday started on the fourth of July, which was a Monday, so it was the Friday before that. You know how your holiday always starts on a weekday, but they count the previous weekend too. Yes, it was the first day of July, a Friday evening.’

  Esko Niemi made a note of the date.

  ‘Tell me what kind of man Ville was. How did you view him?’

  Jussi was so relieved that he could have wept with joy. The policeman was only interested in Ville. It was only natural that they needed to know about him, to build up a profile of the victim. He’d been worried for nothing. What a jerk he was, he thought, only worried about saving his own skin, when his friend had been shot and killed. He would organise a whip-round at the orienteering club and among their circle of friends. His CEO friends were an affluent bunch. They would dig deep to help out Ville’s widow and baby.

  ‘Calm. Nice. Quiet, maybe. A real family man. In great shape,’ said Jussi. ‘Much fitter than me. He was good at motivating people in the team.’

  ‘Did he have another woman on the side?’

  ‘Absolutely not. I mean, I don’t think so. I doubt he would have told me if he had, though I just can’t imagine Ville doing anything like that. He’s so decent. He was.’

  ‘Who would he h
ave told if there had been another woman?’

  ‘I don’t know. I don’t know any of his close friends. But Ville was head over heels in love with Maria. Baby on the way and everything.’

  ‘Did either you or Ville ever go running around Saloinen?’

  ‘I’ve never been there, and as far as I know Ville hasn’t either. I would probably have known if he had; orienteering was what we talked about the most.’

  ‘Do you own any firearms?’

  ‘Sure, I’m a member of the Asemakylä hunting association.’

  ‘What kind?’

  ‘A couple of shotguns. I’ve been planning on getting a rifle too so I can go elk-hunting next season.’

  ‘What kind of shotguns?’

  ‘A Mosberg 12/76 and a Sako semi-automatic 16/70. Normal stuff.’

  ‘When did you last fire the Mosberg?’

  Jussi stared at the policeman in disbelief. What was he talking about? Surely they didn’t think he would have taken out his good friend. He could feel his pulse racing.

  ‘I was out hunting on the first day of the season. I took a few shots but didn’t catch anything. I haven’t been out since then.’

  ‘What about Ville?’

  ‘He didn’t hunt.’

  The policeman looked at Jussi from beneath his swollen eyelids. Jussi felt ill at ease. It was as if the copper knew something, could see right through him.

  ‘How often did you and Ville train together?’

  ‘Maybe once a week. Less frequently during the summer. We normally went running through the woods. Sometimes we would go along the running track, but like I said, Ville went there a lot by himself. That’s why he was in better shape.’

  ‘When did you fix a time for this run?’

  ‘It’s been in my diary for a while now. There’s a competition in Sorvala next week, so I thought I’d get in a bit of extra training.’

  ‘Why did you cancel?’

  Damn it. They had to ask, of course. What was I thinking?

  ‘Our kid fell ill and my wife was at work. And you can’t leave a one-year-old at home by herself,’ said Jussi with a chuckle.