Cold Trail hh-4

by Jarkko Sipila

  The explosion had popped Römpötti’s ear drums, and it took a minute before she could hear anything. Karhunen, the cameraman, waved his hand behind the camera, and the stunned Römpötti understood that she should talk now.

  “There has been an explosion here. We don’t have any details yet,” Römpötti said in an unnaturally loud voice. “Heavy smoke is rising from the building. Just a moment ago, escaped convict Timo Repo and Supreme Court chief justice Aarno Fredberg were in that house together. We do not have any information on the fate of either. The motivation for the siege was Repo’s potentially wrongful conviction for his wife’s murder. Fredberg was…”

  CHAPTER 22

  THURSDAY, 8:45 A.M.

  HELSINKI POLICE HEADQUARTERS, PASILA

  Takamäki was typing up his notes from that morning. He was tired, but it was best to record the chain of events while it was still fresh in his mind. Joutsamo, Kohonen, or the department secretary could transcribe the calls with Repo for the appendix, and Takamäki would still have a chance to edit his text. In any event, multiple parties would be demanding a report.

  Skoog burst into Takamäki’s office and started praising him as soon as he walked through the door. “Congratulations!”

  Takamäki raised his gaze. “What for?”

  “For a goddamned well-handled situation. You had about a zero percent chance of resolving it, but you got the hostage out of there.”

  “There are a lot of ways of looking at it. Repo let him go. Fredberg said Repo had spoken about mercy at the door as he let him go. Mercy he wasn’t shown himself.”

  “Well, he wouldn’t have let him go if you hadn’t succeeded in influencing his judgment.”

  “Hard to say,” Takamäki said, noticing a rare smile on the lips of the stern deputy chief. It didn’t suit his stony face in the least. Maybe that was because even though the mouth was smiling, the eyes were still hard.

  “I spoke with Fredberg, and he is truly grateful to the police that the standoff was resolved this way. Even apologized for giving an interview to the press in which he had disparaged the police.”

  Takamäki nodded. “I still don’t consider the incident a success. The aim was to resolve it without a single victim.”

  “Of course that would have been preferable,” Skoog admitted. “But there’s nothing to complain about either. The hostage survived. That’s the most important thing. At least four officers are going to get a cross of merit for this. Suhonen for saving the wife, Saarinen and Eronen for their last-minute actions, and you for leading the operation.”

  Skoog’s praise felt good in a way-and yet it didn’t.

  “The press conference is a little over an hour away. You’re going?” Takamäki asked.

  “I was thinking I’d attend.”

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes,” Skoog said. “Several networks are broadcasting it live. You deserve the recognition.”

  Takamäki looked thoughtful. “That old Riihimäki case is definitely going to surface. What are we going to say about it?”

  “I had a brief word with the attorney general about it,” Skoog said. “It clearly falls under the area of due process, and they promised to reopen Repo’s old case for review.”

  “So it’ll be transferred there?”

  “I agreed that you’ll drop by within the next few weeks to brief them as to what you feel the problem is.”

  “Fine,” Takamäki said. “Maybe it’s better that the AG’s office looks into it, because it’s a difficult spot for the police to be in. The wrongly convicted and the potential perpetrator are both dead, so from that perspective we have no interest in the case, since there is no one to prosecute.”

  Takamäki doubted they would find strong enough evidence to overturn Repo’s conviction. The clothes that Joutsamo had sent in for DNA analysis might reveal that Erik Repo had been in the apartment, but that didn’t make him a killer. In all likelihood the case would remain open. Without the Repos’ testimony, finding out the truth was nearly impossible. In any case not a single police officer or judge would be charged with misconduct, even if there were cause.

  “Repo told me his father’s account of events over the phone. It’s on tape. Should we turn it over to the attorney general’s office?” Takamäki asked.

  Skoog thought for a second. “Yes, if they think to ask for it, but we’re not going to actively mention it. It is, of course, nothing more than his version of events, and it’s not of great importance. But back to the matter at hand: the plan now is to stress Repo’s mental health problems. And that’ll be our theme at the press conference, too.”

  “Did he have any?”

  “Of course he did, if the guy was capable of resorting to a solution like that. We don’t want the media making him into some sort of martyr, victim of the system, or innocent murderer. We’re not going to speculate about his innocence, we’re just going to say that the attorney general is going to investigate. In the end, what we’re talking about are the unlawful actions of a mentally unstable man. We’ll also raise the fact that we’re investigating the Karppi incident as murder, and that Repo is-or, I mean, was-the prime suspect. In other words, before taking a hostage, Repo is suspected of murdering his father’s closest friend. We’ll knock him off that pedestal he wanted raise himself up on. Repo’s nothing more than a common criminal.”

  So this is how the system works, Takamäki thought.

  * * *

  Takamäki turned his Toyota station wagon into his townhouse lot. He drove into his parking space under the garage, stepped out, and locked the doors.

  The day was extremely gray, and the rain continued to drizzle down. Takamäki strode to his front door and stepped in. The lights were on, and Jonas was downstairs, sitting at the computer with one arm in a cast. Some black girl was shaking her booty on the music channel on TV.

  “Hey,” Takamäki said, and Jonas turned the TV down.

  “Pretty intense day, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I watched you on TV this morning and during that press conference just now.”

  “Well, what did you think?”

  Jonas gave a little smile. “That was a really cool explosion, even the reporter went totally speechless.”

  Takamäki sat down on the sofa. “A person died there.”

  Jonas looked at his father. “He was one weird dude, killing his dad’s friend and all. Must have been pretty messed up. Was he innocent in that old case, by the way?”

  “That’s what he told me on the phone.”

  “Do you believe him?”

  Takamäki thought for a second. “In a way I almost want to, but I don’t know for sure.”

  “No, seriously. Tell me,” Jonas insisted.

  “I really don’t know. Seriously. Someone’s going to look into it, I guess, but it’s pretty hard to get new evidence in an old case like that. The clothes are being analyzed for DNA. Maybe something will come out of it. Maybe not.”

  “There you go with the cop talk again,” Jonas laughed. “You should have just said ‘No comment’ like that Skoog dude did on TV.”

  Takamäki changed the subject. “How’s the arm?”

  “Still attached to my shoulder. A little hard to surf the web with one hand. With the mouse it’s fine, but typing’s tough. How do one-handed people turn on their computers? For me at least that Control+Alt+Del you have to do at the start was pretty tricky.”

  Takamäki lay down on the sofa. “I need to sleep for a couple of hours, but feel free to hang out on the computer. It doesn’t bother me.”

  “Okay,” Jonas said, looking at his dad. Takamäki fluffed up the pillow and put his hands behind his neck.

  “Hey, Dad?”

  “Yeah?”

  “That accident I was in. Did you guys find out who the driver was?”

  Takamäki answered without opening his eyes. “Yes. This one criminal.”

  “Is it going to go to court?”

  “I don’t think so
.”

  “Why not?”

  Takamäki thought for a second and rose up on his side. How could he explain this? Suhonen had found out from Salmela that a guy called Skoda Sakke had hit Jonas. They couldn’t use the information, though, because it would have immediately let the criminal league know that someone from the gang had talked to the cops. They couldn’t investigate the hit-and-run unless someone confessed to it, and that was extremely unlikely. Takamäki regretted having told his son that that they knew who the driver was.

  “Why not?” Jonas repeated.

  Takamäki sat up on the sofa to explain. “Is it enough if I tell you ‘No comment’?”

  “I guess, but I don’t get it. If you guys know who the driver is, why doesn’t he have to go to court? It was his fault. And who’s going to pay for my bike?”

  “The bike’s easy. Insurance will take care of that,” Takamäki said, trying to formulate his answer. Salmela had told him that Skoda Sakke had gotten his ass kicked and been forced to pay him back for the burnt car. “Let’s just say that the guy knows he did wrong and was made to pay.”

  “Did someone ice him?” Jonas asked gravely.

  Takamäki laughed. “No, it wasn’t that bad. But I can’t tell you the details.”

  Father and son looked at each other. Jonas was the first to talk. “So do you think that’s a good thing?”

  “Good question,” Takamäki answered diplomatically, buying time to frame his thoughts. As a police officer the answer was easy; of course it was. But as a father and parent, this wasn’t the way things should go. He should be able to tell his son that justice is carried out in society. Lying wasn’t Takamäki’s style, though. “Your hit-and-run not ending up in court will let us protect one of Suhonen’s sources.”

  “Oh, Suhonen’s informant?” Jonas said. During his visits, Suhonen had taught Takamäki’s boys that snitch was a forbidden word, informant was better.

  “Is that okay?”

  Jonas shrugged his healthy shoulder. “Fine by me. Is Suhonen coming over for Christmas again?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Takamäki said, lying back down on the couch. “Of course we’ll invite him.”

  “That would be cool.”

  Takamäki closed his eyes again. “Wake me up at one o’clock at the latest. I don’t want to sleep too long, because then I won’t be able to fall asleep tonight,” he said. “Oh yeah, one more thing: find Johnny Cash’s song ‘Hurt’ and play it for me.”

  SIX WEEKS LATER

  CHAPTER 23

  TUESDAY, 2:20 P.M.

  HELSINKI POLICE HEADQUARTERS, PASILA

  Joutsamo stepped into the room, and Takamäki raised his eyes from the computer.

  “Got a sec?” Joutsamo asked. Without waiting for an answer, she entered and closed the door behind her. She was wearing a gray sweater. November was coming to an end, and it was already growing dark outside. The temperature was teetering above and below freezing.

  “Well?” Takamäki asked, as Joutsamo sat down in the chair across from him. Takamäki was still wearing a white shirt and tie, because that morning they had had to attend some pointless meeting at the Ministry of the Interior. His sport coat was hanging from the back of his chair.

  “I have a theory.”

  “About what?”

  “Everything, of course,” Joutsamo smiled. “But especially about this Repo case.”

  Takamäki nodded. It had been six weeks since the explosion. The incident had been in the media for a few days, but had then been overshadowed by other news. The Office of the Attorney General had started investigating the matter, but nothing much had been heard from there. This came as no surprise to Takamäki-the office was known for its glacial pace .

  “Lay it on me,” Takamäki said.

  “I got the final DNA reports this morning, and I’ve been thinking about them. Of course they found Timo Repo’s and his wife Arja’s DNA on the belongings. But in addition, they were also able to pick up DNA from Arja’s shirt that belonged to Erik Repo.”

  “That’s interesting, but it doesn’t prove…”

  “Listen, I know it only indicates that Erik Repo was at the scene. It doesn’t put the knife in his hand. All I said was that I had a theory.”

  “Continue,” Takamäki said.

  “The items also included a stuffed animal that had been found on the kitchen floor, because it had blood on it, too. It turns out that it was-as I expected-Arja’s blood. But they found something else on that stuffed animal, too. In other words, the child’s DNA, of course, which was determined by that blood sample we acquired. Which leads us to my theory.”

  Takamäki was listening.

  “The child’s DNA looked strange, and my friend at the NBI lab took a closer look at it. Arja was the boy’s, Joel’s, mother, but Timo Repo was not the father.”

  “Theoretically speaking, that would give Timo more of a motive.”

  Joutsamo shook her head. “I checked the calls from the night of the explosion. Repo mentioned his son twice. He didn’t know.”

  “But Grandpa Erik did?”

  “Or found out,” Joutsamo said. “It’s pure speculation, but it fits the picture. Timo Repo passes out. Erik and his daughter-in-law start to bicker about something. That’s what Erik had told Timo, and according to the old interrogation reports, it wasn’t the first time. The situation escalates. They’re drunk.”

  Takamäki interrupted, “As far as I can recall, in the preliminary investigative reports no one mentioned anything about shouting.”

  “Maybe they didn’t shout. Maybe they just argued. Maybe they didn’t want to wake up Timo, who was passed out. Anyway, Arja insults her father-in-law and he dishes it right back. At some point, she pulls out the big guns and insults the family by telling him that the child was the result of an extramarital affair. Grandpa Erik can’t stomach it and slashes her throat. Then, in a panic, he frames his son.”

  “Why?”

  “This is just a theory, but maybe he considered his son just as worthless as the woman he killed,” Joutsamo said.

  “Cruel father,” Takamäki said.

  “Wouldn’t be the first. But like I said, this is just a theory. And we won’t be able to take it any further.”

  Takamäki nodded. “I also have a theory. A drunk married couple gets into a fight. The woman insults the man by telling him the kid is someone else’s. The man panics, kills the woman, and doesn’t remember anything. They don’t always. The man’s father is on the scene or happens to come in a little later and sees what happened. He flees the apartment in horror and doesn’t call the police until he’s outside the building.”

  “Cruel husband,” Joutsamo said.

  “But the dad isn’t so bad after all. He sees his son languishing in uncertainty in prison and decides to ease his pain. He lies to his son that he committed the crime. He knows he’ll lose his son, but he’ll save him from going insane,” Takamäki said. “But this is just a theory, too. And we won’t be able to take it any further.”

  “But the courts did, once upon a time,” Joutsamo mused. “All the way to a murder conviction.”

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