Below the Surface

by Leena Lehtolainen

  When you got home from the army I was planning to ask you, if you hadn’t done it yet, she said. Of course I’ll marry you.

  So we became man and wife on Midsummer in 1960. Everything was perfect. I liked my new in-laws, and I’d gotten to know the villagers. Someone at the wedding remarked on how small my family was; the only person there from my side was the parson. I said that I was born out of wedlock and that none of my mother’s siblings had survived. Occasionally someone asked about my childhood in Uumaja, but usually they left me alone. That new son-in-law the Smedses have is quiet, but he’s a good worker, they’d say. His Swedish is strange, but he speaks the truth. Do you want to join the hunting club? I have a good dog you could buy.

  Over the years my fears faded. Leningrad and a young man named Rylov were just a story from long ago. I had a place in the world as a husband. In the early sixties, Albert’s back started to bother him, so more and more of the work on the farm fell to me. I felt useful to the people I loved.

  We weren’t immediately blessed with children. Rauha had several miscarriages in the early years. After a while the doctors said we should let her body rest. We wanted each other, so abstinence was difficult. Using birth control felt wrong, but we had no choice. We waited a year or so. Andreas, when you were born, you were a true miracle. We named you after my father, Andrei. Sasha was born two years later, and he was named after my fellow guard, Sasha, whose full name was Alexander Nikolayevich Tikhonov. Sometimes I wonder what happened to him. Did he ever get back to his home in Pervouralsk or did he just wander the Soviet Union, which doesn’t exist anymore? Leningrad has been replaced with St. Petersburg. And I have a new homeland, Finland.

  I’m sorry that I couldn’t tell you about my childhood or my family. You asked sometimes why you didn’t have any cousins on my side. I lied and said that I’d been an only child. Why don’t we ever visit Kokkola? you asked. What would we do there? I said. Our home is here.

  Albert died in 1973, Alma ten years later, and the parson who’d helped us in 1989. The only ones who know the truth anymore are me and Rauha. When your mother is gone too, you can tell our story. Then there won’t be any danger of us being charged with a crime for what we did. Yes, it was fraud; yes, it was against the immigration laws, but it didn’t hurt anyone, and it gave us decades of joy and two wonderful children. I’m proud of your rally career, Sasha, even though the publicity for the rest of the family has sometimes brought back my fear of being discovered. And I’m just as happy, Andreas, that you are continuing the traditions of your mother’s family on this land. Viktor Rylov became Viktor Smeds. I don’t know where I’ll end up after I die, but I can’t imagine that I won’t be able to be with Rauha then too. My heart will never stop being with her.

  22

  I read the account again. Was this really Viktor’s story? Was it true? And how had Hackman gotten her hands on it? What had Heli said? “Once, we even caught her in the house; she’d snuck in and was snooping around Rauha and Viktor’s bedroom.”

  Viktor’s story explained why Annukka Hackman died at Lake Humaljärvi and why she’d been asking about DNA—a test would have shown that Rauha and Viktor weren’t second cousins after all. Protecting their father would have been a motive for Sasha and Andreas to collude in the crime and support each other’s alibis. Viktor’s immigration violations and fraud had stretched over decades, compounding the seriousness of his crimes. No wonder Annukka had been so secretive about her manuscript.

  I felt like sending a patrol to Smedsbo Farm right then. Instead I made a few more calls, first to the hospital where Sasha was receiving treatment. His condition was stable, and he was sleeping. He was unlikely to walk for several more weeks.

  Then I called the private hospital where Viktor had had his surgery.

  “I’d like information about Tuesday, the fifth of November, when Viktor and Rauha Smeds came in for Viktor’s follow-up examination after his heart surgery. Were they there the whole day?”

  “Wait just a moment . . . I’ll have to check.” I heard typing and papers shuffling, and in the background I could even make out the sound of an ambulance.

  “Viktor arrived around noon with his wife and left at six. The doctor wasn’t completely satisfied with his recovery, so they administered an EKG and . . .” The receptionist rattled off a series of medical terms that went in one ear and out the other.

  “Was Mrs. Smeds present throughout the entire exam?”

  “The notes only indicate that she brought him in and picked him up. No taxi or ambulance was necessary. You could ask the doctor who carried out the tests, but he won’t be in until the morning shift.”

  “Yes, please have him call me as soon as he can. It doesn’t matter how early.”

  Goddamn fucking Ursula, I thought. Had she actually confirmed the elderly Smedses’ movements with the hospital? Or had she simply verified the appointment and their arrival, but forgotten to ask whether Rauha had stayed and waited for Viktor the entire time?

  I tried to remember the cars that had been spotted at the lake three weeks earlier. Did they include a green Škoda or anything similar? I couldn’t leave the kids alone and go to the police station to rifle through my files and find out. And none of my subordinates were likely to be working overtime. It was already ten thirty, but I still called everyone’s cell. Only Lehtovuori picked up, but he couldn’t remember either.

  Was it Andreas, Sasha, Heli, or Rauha? I wondered. I had to talk to someone. Koivu would have been the natural choice, but at this time of night he was usually trying to get the baby to sleep. Taskinen was home alone, and I doubted he would be asleep yet. I was just dialing his number when the front door opened. I was so startled I dropped my phone on the table, but then I heard Antti’s familiar steps.

  “Hi. You’re back early. I didn’t think your train was coming until twelve.”

  “I made the early one. And I got the job. I can start right after Christmas, and the funding is good for at least five years. The pay is two grades higher than what I’m getting now, and the trains are really fast.” Scooping me up in his arms, he kissed me more passionately than he had in ages.

  “That’s great,” I muttered distractedly against his dark-red sweater.

  “Hey, I just caught the early train home specifically so I could tell you the good news before you fell asleep. And then all you have to say is ‘that’s great’? I even bought champagne, so let’s light some candles and celebrate, if that’s OK with you.”

  I broke away from Antti’s embrace. My mood was too unsettled for champagne and candles, and in truth I would have preferred to use Antti’s early homecoming to let me go back to work. This was how it had been before, and this was how it was always going to be: there was just no way I could fill all the roles I had to play.

  “Yes, let’s celebrate, but can I keep it to one glass? I need to be sharp tomorrow. We just had a surprise turn in the Hackman case, which is probably going to solve the whole thing. I want to be with you, but I need to make one more call.”

  When I reached Dispatch, I asked the duty officer to send a car to stake out Smedsbo Farm and let me know what the situation was at the house. Who would end up leaving, Heli or Andreas? I wondered what I’d do in Sasha’s place, but I didn’t have a clue. Hopefully I’d never be faced with that decision.

  Antti poured the drinks and lit the candles. He talked happily about his research plans and suggested that we start looking for a new apartment that weekend.

  “Interest rates are so low right now, and maybe we could accept a little help from my parents. Mom’s right. She can’t take the money with her when she goes, and that inheritance advance might be just what we need.”

  I only heard half of what Antti said since part of my brain was still reviewing the Hackman case. The uniformed patrol called to report that everything seemed peaceful at the Smedses’ place. A single light burned in the yard and another in one window of the house. Based on the description, it was in Heli and Sasha’s r
oom. Antti was tired after traveling so far, so after a single glass of champagne, we went to bed. He fell asleep quickly, but I stayed awake. I watched the rays of light that swam through the blinds onto the walls and sheets, and wondered whether anyone was sleeping at Smedsbo tonight. At some point sleep won out, and I found myself sitting on a train to Vaasa with Viktor Smeds, who was speaking in Russian. I only understood a few words, umer and da svidania, “death” and “good-bye.”

  In the morning the same old assaults and domestic violence incidents were waiting for me at the office. One family, the Salminens, had the father, mother, and seventeen-year-old son all sitting in cells, and the three younger children had been taken into state custody. During the morning meeting, I assigned Lähde, Lehtovuori, and Autio to handle the most acute cases, since Autio had recently taken a special course on recognizing and preventing domestic violence.

  “And then we still have the Annukka Hackman case, but things have changed. We now have strong evidence that points at the Smeds family again. We already have one patrol car posted close by. Puupponen, Puustjärvi, and Koivu, you’ll come with me to the farm. We’ll leave at ten after handling a couple of other things. It’s probably best to take two cars. The secretary will bring you a new version of the Hackman manuscript, and you can read it for yourselves. Take a look at Chapter One; it’s different from the first chapter in the version we recovered from Hackman’s safe. Puustjärvi, I need you to check the witness reports again from the lake area on the day Annukka Hackman went swimming. We’re looking for any sighting of a green Škoda. Puupponen, will you please check Ursula’s report on Viktor and Rauha Smeds’s alibis? Then call her and check the alibis again.”

  Just then my phone vibrated. The number displayed was from the private hospital where Viktor had had his surgery. Hopefully, it was the cardiologist and I’d still be able to reach him after the meeting.

  I was.

  “Of course I remember Mr. and Mrs. Smeds. Viktor’s coronary arteries were so congested that his operation came down to a matter of weeks, and his recovery hasn’t gone as we hoped. Mrs. Smeds did bring Viktor to the appointment, but she wasn’t here the whole time. Some people wait in the waiting room, but others run errands in the city. She was here in plenty of time to pick him up, though.”

  “Did you notice anything strange, in Rauha Smeds, I mean?”

  “Of course she was nervous. Viktor’s health has been touch and go. We arranged for them to come back in a month, which is coming up next week. You don’t see couples like them very often. After forty years of marriage they’re still like newlyweds. I was surprised to see Mrs. Smeds leave her husband’s side even for those few hours.”

  “Thank you. Unfortunately we’ll probably have to bother you again.”

  When a knock came at my door, I assumed it would be Puupponen, but instead I looked up to see Taskinen.

  “Maria, do you have a moment?” If Jyrki hadn’t looked so miserable, I would have said no.

  “Yes, but only a moment. We’ve just about got the Hackman case solved. Come on in.”

  Taskinen remained standing in the doorway. There was a wrinkle in his collar, which shocked me. It was like seeing any other man showing up unshaven and smelling of booze.

  “Don’t worry about it. We’ll talk later. I just wanted to say that . . . that getting through all of this is a lot easier knowing you’re around.” Taskinen’s gaze locked on mine for a few seconds. I tried not to look away. Fortunately Puupponen jogged up.

  “Maria, according to Ursula, the hospital told her Mrs. Smeds was there the whole time.”

  “So she claimed she asked?”

  “Well, yeah. How would I know if she hadn’t?”

  Puustjärvi pushed into the doorway next to Puupponen, jostling Taskinen aside. Koivu stood behind Puustjärvi, in the hall. “The eyewitness reports don’t include a green Škoda, but there was a dark-gray car of about the same description. It could be a match. The license plate was KC something just like the Smedses’ car. The person behind the wheel was short and drove unusually slowly down Gesterby Road back to Kirkkonummi a little before five on the fifth of November.”

  “OK, let’s get going. Koivu, you come with me. Petri and Ville, tell the patrol car standing guard that we’re on our way. And let’s play it cool.”

  The day was cloudy, with a dark, ruddy color in the west that promised more snow. I drove, and there was something strangely calming about it.

  “Koivu, things like this shouldn’t happen. Failing to thoroughly check an alibi is such a basic mistake.” I braked to avoid a tractor-trailer that rounded a corner and blew through a yield sign right in front of me. “Put the light on top and give that guy a scare.”

  Koivu grabbed the light and reached out the window to place it on top of the car.

  “Maria, we don’t know that Ursula screwed up here. Maybe whoever she spoke to at the hospital made a mistake. Maybe they just assumed that Rauha stayed during her husband’s appointment. I’m still having a hard time believing Rauha Smeds is a cold-blooded murderer, though. Couldn’t it still be the boys? What the hell is going on with this road! Does the city not have any snowplows anymore?”

  After the bridge over the bay on the west side of town, the road had been plowed, and I accelerated. At first the snow came slowly, but by the time we reached Kirkkonummi it was driving hard enough that I had to switch the windshield wipers on full speed. On one straightaway there were two cars off in the ditch, and traffic was down to one lane with police directing the flow. When they saw our flasher, they motioned us past the line.

  “Apparently no one’s hurt,” Koivu observed calmly. “You only have to see the remains of a six-month-old after she went through the windshield to remember to always use a car seat.”

  “When was that?”

  “When I was just starting out in Helsinki. What were you thinking of doing when we get to the farm?”

  “We’ll put them all in different rooms, then question two at a time. Hopefully my Swedish is good enough for Viktor. Why don’t any of us know Russian?”

  The snowstorm obscured the top of the Degerby church tower and almost made me drive past the intersection leading to Degerö, because the road sign was also covered in snow. The rolling hills and fields were covered in a blanket of snow perfect for skiing. A couple of miles to the west was the hill where Rauha’s parents had gone to look at the home they longed for. The patrol car was tucked away in the forest three hundred yards from the Smedses’ farm where it was out of sight of the house.

  “Car twenty-three, this is Lieutenant Kallio. Who’s inside?”

  “Four individuals, two men, two women. Car twenty-three over.”

  I asked the patrol car to follow Puustjärvi’s vehicle down the lane.

  When I parked in the farmyard, Ronja the dog rushed out to greet us. Heli was sweeping the main steps, which seemed insane given the way the snow was coming down.

  “Oh God,” she said when she saw how many of us there were. “Did you come to badger Andreas again?”

  “No. Are the others home?”

  “Rauha is in the living room resting, and Viktor’s probably reading. Andreas is upstairs packing. He’s going somewhere today and won’t tell us where.” Heli swallowed and wiped a snowflake from the corner of her eye.

  “And you’re staying?”

  “I don’t know. Sasha doesn’t want to talk about it yet. He says he needs some time.”

  “What do you want?”

  Heli snorted. “It doesn’t matter. There are no good options for me.” She opened the door, and I kicked the snow from my shoes before entering. The scent of fresh-baked bread filled the entryway. The door to Rauha and Viktor’s room was closed, but someone was bustling about in the kitchen.

  “Puustjärvi, you go find Andreas. Puupponen, you take Heli upstairs and keep her company. You two stay on guard here,” I said to officers Airaksinen and Saastamoinen. Koivu followed me into the living room, where we found Rauha Smeds
working next to the traditional baking oven. She was wearing a well-worn flowery apron. Her hair was covered with a scarf in the same fabric, but it couldn’t completely tame her gray locks, which fell over her forehead and ears. Rauha’s right hand was in a bowl of dough, and her left wiped flour from her cheek.

  “Hello, Detective.”

  “We need a word, Rauha. Are you at a good stopping point?”

  “The last loaves are just about to go in the oven. Life must go on even if the younger generation has done themselves such a disservice.”

  Rauha looked straight at me, and for a moment I was sure that everything I’d read in Annukka Hackman’s book was completely made up. There had never been any Viktor Rylov, just two second-cousins who met by chance in Kokkola. After our morning meeting I’d asked a colleague in that city to track down the church registries from the late thirties. It would be possible to determine whether something had been added after the fact, since the composition of the ink and the handwriting varied from decade to decade.

  “Is your husband sleeping?”

  “He had another bad night. He’s been having nightmares. Sasha’s accident has been too much for Viktor, and we couldn’t hide this business with Andreas and Heli.” Rauha turned out a lump of dough onto the floured table and began to roll it into long snakes. Her movements were quick and sure, and the braiding was done in an instant. Then a second and a third loaf took shape, and each was placed on a baking sheet under a cloth near the oven to rise.

  “Would you like some fresh Inkoo-style bread?” she asked and wiped her hands on her apron. Then she started brushing the dough off the table and into the bowl.

  “Thank you, but no. What does the name Rylov mean to you? Viktor Rylov.”