“I know.” Suhonen nodded as he looked his friend in the eyes. Salmela thumbed away a tear.
“Just got to thinking about all the shit I should have done. What I could’ve done to keep this from happening. How I could’ve been a better dad. Not that I had much choice with the ex and me always going at it. But I could’ve tried harder. Or should have, at least.”
Suhonen had encountered many people grappling with the death of a loved one. For some, the grief spiraled into overwhelming emotional problems. Salmela seemed ashamed of neither having been the kind of father he would have wanted to be nor having taught his son the ways of the criminal world. But the past was gone.
Suhonen thought for a moment. Salmela had spent time in prison, had seen the darker side of life. Maybe it was best to just be straight with him. That was Suhonen’s style anyway.
“Yeah, grief ain’t easy,” he said. “Some struggle with it their whole lives. For you it’s just starting. But there’s one thing you need to keep in mind: letting go of grief is hard because you can’t help but think it’s an insult to the dead. You shouldn’t stop grieving today or tomorrow, but soon. And that doesn’t mean you have to forget your boy. Those memories will always be with you.”
“They were pretty good times,” said Salmela, wiping tears openly now. “Damn, this fucking wind…” he said with a sad smile.
Suhonen nodded.
“But the more you get to thinking, the more you start to regret,” said Salmela. “I’ve made a lotta dumb decisions.”
“And that’s what they’ll always be,” said Suhonen, as he put his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “You can’t think like that…in hindsight. Life is pretty random—some days are good, some bad.”
“Feels like the bad have been coming outta my ears lately.”
Suhonen kept his hand on Salmela’s shoulder. “Well, then they are. That just makes the good that much better…like this fishing trip.”
Salmela laughed. “Yeah, right. But tell me this…”
“What?”
“You say it’s all random…”
“Right, and nothing you can do about it. No point blaming yourself for what happened to Tomi. You didn’t get drunk and drive him off a bridge. You didn’t bounce his head off the pavement. Nyberg came to the door and shot him.”
Salmela looked Suhonen sharply in the eyes. “I know all that. I’m talking about something else. Back when we did that attic job in Lahti. I got busted and you didn’t, ’cause you were sick at home. How you make sense of that?”
“Pure chance. Had I gone with you guys, I doubt I’d be alive right now. It would’ve changed the course of my life. No doubt about it.”
“Yeah. Sometimes I wonder how you’re still kicking, being a cop and all.”
“I’m not so sure I’m better off for it, either. At least you got the memories of your son. All I got are a bunch of random women and motorcycles.”
“But you’re a hero, a police officer.”
“It’s a shitty job… Ain’t much different than a criminal’s—except the government gives us the guns, so we don’t have to buy them off the black market.”
Salmela waited a while before responding, “I’ve always considered you a hero.”
Suhonen laughed. “Right.”
“If there’s anything I can be proud of, it’s that I can call you a friend.”
Suhonen gulped. “Getting kinda serious here.”
“Gotta be serious sometimes. If you don’t, you never realize what really matters.”
“Yeah…you’re right.”
Slowly, the forty-horse engine pushed the boat onward through an empty sea. The fish weren’t biting, but the coffee was good.
* * *
Takamäki was on the phone when Joutsamo stepped into his office at Pasila police headquarters. “Hockey? Sure, I can bring him,” Takamäki was saying as he glanced at Joutsamo. “Least I think so… Let’s see, one-thirty now. I suppose around three I’ll know for sure… Yeah, I’ll be there… Bye.”
“Driving the hockey shuttle?”
“Among others. How’s things with our interview subjects?”
“Neither one’s much of a talker.”
“No surprise.”
Joutsamo sat down on the opposite side of Takamäki’s desk. “What about Guerrilla? Hold onto him or let him go? The twenty-four-hour holding period will be up soon.”
“The prosecutor’s position on that was pretty clear. And I’m not arguing, either. He wasn’t in the car and nobody’s fingered him, but still, if he’s not Korpi’s right hand, then he’s his left. If the hit was planned, then what are the chances he would’ve known?”
“I’d say pretty good.”
Takamäki looked his best detective in the eyes. “How good? What standard of proof are we
looking at?”
“What, this the lieutenant-level test?”
“No. You already know I think you ought to go for lieutenant. Just mulling some things over.”
“Like what?”
“Like might Siikala cross the threshold of reasonable suspicion for murder based on the fact that the NBI classifies Korpi’s outfit as an organized crime ring and Siikala is high up in the ranks.”
“So you want to keep him?”
“Well, no, actually. If he’s not talking, he’s no use to us. But might he talk to someone else?”
Joutsamo nodded. “I see where you’re going. Phone tap or bug?”
“Why not both? Let’s start with a phone tap and see how far-reaching Korpi’s outfit really is. That might tell us if there’s any cross-over between their contacts and Tomi Salmela’s.”
“With Korpi and Nyberg both in jail, it stands to reason Siikala might be up for a promotion. That might put him more in the jurisdiction of Narcotics, though.”
“I’ll have a chat with them. If it starts looking more like their case, then they can have it. But as long as you’re in agreement, I’ll say we have reasonable suspicion to suspect Siikala and that we’re only letting him out for strategic purposes. Then we’ll get a warrant for a phone tap and see who he calls.”
That made Joutsamo pause. “And what if he just gets a new prepaid SIM card?”
“Didn’t he just have some old beat-up Nokia? Least that’s what I remember seeing in the report.”
“Yeah. I don’t remember the model, but it
was old.”
“Well, at any rate, if he bought a new SIM card he’d still have to turn on his old phone to save the numbers onto it, so the phone will connect to the network then. Once we see that, we’ll just wait for the new prepaid number to come up in the same location and get the new number.”
“I already copied all the numbers from his cellphone directory.”
“But the court won’t grant warrants for those numbers in relation to this case. Maybe Narcotics could get one, but not us. So based on the info we have so far, the trail seems to end with Siikala.”
Joutsamo nodded. “OK. Fair enough. So you’ll get the warrant for Siikala’s phones and I’ll set up the tap. You think Siikala’s phone calls for round-the-clock surveillance?” she asked, conscious of the resources such an operation could devour.
“Let’s assess it on a daily basis. Initially, at least in the daytime, we’ll have someone listen in live so we can see when he changes his SIM card, but no need to burn the midnight oil. The case is not at a critical stage at this point,” said Takamäki. All conversations and call data would be saved on a computer hard drive anyway.
“Alright. In other news, Kannas says they’re still working on the laptop, but that they did pick up some information from the Mazda’s onboard computer.”
“What’s that?”
“The engine was started on Sunday afternoon about three o’clock and ran till almost five. Went about thirty miles.”
“So that supports our case.”
“It sat idling somewhere for a while, but we don’t know where.”
“And the gas
tank?”
“Half full, so I don’t think we’ll find them on any service station cameras.”
“Well, we’ll have time to think about that for a day or two. Some other places might have got them on camera. But this isn’t the kind of case where we’d really need to determine the car’s route. We have Nyberg’s picture from the store by Salmela’s apartment and a statement from an eyewitness that puts Korpi in the car. That’ll take us a ways.”
“Hopefully far enough for a conviction,” said Joutsamo.
“Well, sometimes it’s a sprint, but just as often it ends up being a marathon. Anybody heard anything from Suhonen, by the way?”
Joutsamo shook her head. “Nope. One more thing: I’m having a chat with Mari Lehtonen this evening. She wanted to meet.”
CHAPTER 11
TUESDAY, 5.30 P.M.
GULF OF FINLAND
The bait had been in the water for three hours already without a single bite. No coffee left, either.
“You got anything going on tonight?” asked Salmela.
“I’m in no hurry,” said Suhonen, despite the boredom that had set in after the novelty of a majestic, desolate sea had faded. His life vest kept out the cold and he could piss in the sea—all was well.
They didn’t broach the topic of Salmela’s son again, nor any other difficult subjects. On their last coffee break, Suhonen had promised to help with the funeral and other arrangements, but that having been settled, he didn’t care to bring it up again. Of course, he was more than willing to continue that conversation if that was what Salmela wanted. But Suhonen had said his piece about grief and getting over it, and there wasn’t much more he wanted to add.
“Let’s give it another hour,” said Salmela. “Should make land before nightfall.”
“Fair enough.”
“Who knows, might even get something once it gets a little darker.”
“What, like a fine for fishing without a license?”
Salmela was quiet, which made Suhonen pensive.
After a minute, Salmela spoke up again. “About Tomi…”
“Uh-huh.”
“I heard some things that might interest you.”
Now it was Suhonen’s turn to keep quiet. Of course it interested him, but not more than his friend’s grief. He allowed Salmela to continue.
“I heard Tomi had got mixed up in some… Well…why the fuck should I sugarcoat it—only fair I give it to you straight. He was selling coke to a bunch of soap stars. Business was booming, and he was looking to expand. Heard that from one of his buddies.”
“What buddy?” said Suhonen. The tip could be related to a possible motive, so Suhonen tried to ferret out a bit more. He doubted Salmela would reveal his source, but he wouldn’t lie either.
“Can’t tell you, but it came direct from the source. Put a piece to the guy’s head last night. Pretty sure he was telling the truth.”
“Okay. What’d he say?”
“Tomi had somehow managed to buy two pounds of coke. The guy didn’t say where, but it was all on credit. Up till then he’d been buying maybe a half pound a pop max, so he was pretty damn psyched. He’d managed to sell some of it to the same soap stars; word got around, you know, and he started selling to others, too.”
Suhonen nodded. “So someone was using Tomi to get a piece of the market.”
“Pretty fucking reckless if you ask me…to think that’s gonna fly. You can bet they ain’t pros. Probably some yuppie fucks, or maybe a foreign operator testing the market.”
“And wound up stepping on Korpi’s toes.”
“Exactly. Sold better shit for less. Coke’s a hot commodity.”
“Finland must be getting rich.”
The theory made sense. Tomi Salmela had started to compete with Korpi’s outfit, so they had to get rid of him. In this light, his murder was hardly surprising. Korpi and Nyberg had no choice but to make an example of him.
“Shitty deal.”
“Damn right. That’s why I should’ve taught the kid how the drug trade really works… Taught him to shoot. Not that many dealers got the balls to pull the trigger, and the ones who do are the badasses like Nyberg.”
“Quite a few crime bosses got their start as
hit men.”
“But they ain’t that smart. They might have balls, but they ain’t got brains. That’s why the cops got it so easy. If criminals had some actual intelligence, maybe they wouldn’t…”
“Break the law,” said Suhonen with a smile. For a moment he entertained the idea of trying to turn Salmela from the dark side. Likely a naive notion. Not that Salmela had ever had a choice in the matter. Anyways, he didn’t care to lose his best informant.
“Or they’d start a company.”
“Some have.”
“So which one am I?” Salmela asked.
Suhonen declined to answer because he had a more important question. “So who told you this? If we can get him to testify, Korpi would get life.”
“Can’t tell you…no way.”
“Can you ask him?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Lean on him?”
“No,” said Salmela, visibly irritated. “He’s not an idiot. You don’t testify against Korpi if you wanna live… That would just be fucking stupid.”
“You’re actually a victim in this case, you know. You could testify.”
“I don’t think so. My ex can sue Korpi if she wants, but as long as the asshole rots in a cell I’m OK with that. I had my chance to face him over in Kaarela the day after the murder, and I made up my mind—I never want to see him again.”
Suhonen nodded and glanced at the lines. Guess the fish weren’t biting.
* * *
The sky was growing dark as Joutsamo strode down the street toward the mammoth concrete structures of Merihaka, the drab, gray pinnacle of early 1970s civil engineering. A cold wind swept briskly off the sea. The sergeant had parked near the Häme Street intersection in the first available spot. On the left were the glowing green signs of the employment office.
Joutsamo pushed on toward the north end of a tall red-brick building that had originally been a munitions factory. Off and on it had served as the offices of a construction company, and then as an immigration office. The building had suffered from severe mold problems. Now it housed various firms and tax administration offices, but Joutsamo was only interested in the Czech restaurant on the north end.
It was ten minutes till eight and the meeting was set for eight o’clock sharp. Joutsamo had initially had doubts about the location, before deciding it was fine.
She stepped into the vestibule of the Milenka Restaurant and paused as she came through the door. The bar was on the right and two adjacent dining rooms on the left. She unzipped her coat, walked up to the bar and ordered a cup of tea from the thickly-whiskered bartender, who brought over a cup of steaming water. After paying him, she chose a packet of orange tea from a large basket of assorted flavors. The atmosphere in the bar was nothing short of torpid.
Joutsamo scanned the restaurant for Lehtonen and spotted her wearing a pale sweater at a corner table on the left. She looked up and nodded at Joutsamo.
The interior of the restaurant was a shade nicer than your typical pub. Some art was hanging from the walls and a massive window formed the back wall. Maybe it lent a more artistic air.
Joutsamo steadied her cup as she walked to the table, then took off her jacket and sat. Lehtonen had her paper open to the sudoku page. Joutsamo had done a few of the puzzles herself, but complained that the easy ones were too easy and the difficult ones ridiculously hard.
The women greeted one another.
“You have kids?” asked Lehtonen once Joutsamo was seated.
“No. Why?”
“You’re single?” she asked, glancing at Joutsamo’s ring finger.
“You’re not wearing a ring either, but yes, I’m single.”
“Why?”
Joutsamo had no interest in being cross-exami
ned about her private life, but neither did she want to rile their star witness. She bought herself some time with a sip of hot tea. “I don’t know. There have been some guys…but…I don’t know. Sounds kinda dumb, but I just don’t think I’ve met the right one.”
“Well, nothing wrong with that. You should be glad, actually. My ex-husband was a very good actor. Knew how to pretend like he really loved me. And I bought it. Toward the end he didn’t bother acting anymore. And when I stopped loving him, his genuine hatred came out. The change was sudden for both of us.”
Joutsamo knew the guy from police records. She had checked into Lehtonen’s background and found Anton Teittinen’s name. The man had a laundry list of petty crimes, which revealed a lot. Smart criminals didn’t commit petty offenses, so when there were a lot of them, it usually meant drugs or booze—probably both. A mug shot of a mean-looking, slightly bloated man with a pockmarked face seemed to support the assumption.
“You mentioned a restraining order earlier.”
“I did finally get one. Oddly enough he obeyed it, especially after the police picked him up around the corner a few times for getting too close. That’s when we moved.”
“Good to hear the system works every now and then. Not always the case.”
Joutsamo sipped her tea. In a way she was glad the conversation had shifted to Lehtonen, which was the point of the meeting anyway. Not to mention that she hated talking about her own life. As to why, well, that was a sore subject.
“The only good thing that came out of my marriage was Laura.”
“I hear that a lot…that kids are good.”
“The jerk threatened to beat me up a couple times. Naively, I thought, well, the girl needs her dad and, oh, it’s all right, after yet another of his perfectly-crafted apologies. Some women apparently tolerate it for years. Twice was enough for me. I’ve always believed that you can forgive anything once. The first time, okay, maybe he was just being stupid; could’ve been a misunderstanding, or he was high or something. But the second time is my limit. End of story. And when I make up my mind, it stays that way.”
Helsinki Homicide: Nothing but the Truth Page 9
