Helsinki Homicide: Nothing but the Truth

by Jarkko Sipila

  “I think so too,” said Takamäki. Given the calls had come from three separate cell towers, it made sense to dig deeper—it would be easier to limit the number of phones falling within their range. The data could also reveal the caller’s other phone numbers, which might be registered to a real person. “I’ll take care of the red tape ASAP.”

  Joutsamo looked exasperated. “I’m sick and tired of messing with all this cell tower bullshit… No question in my mind we should be able to listen to these calls. Right now we have no idea who’s calling and what’s being said. With a tap we’d be two steps ahead of the game.”

  “You’re preaching to the choir. Talk to the parliament and interior ministry,” said Takamäki with an edge in his voice. “Maybe you could stage a protest.”

  Joutsamo was quiet for a while. “Stage?” She thought for a while. Laura’s theater project was over, but hadn’t Mari mentioned something about a show they were planning on attending? A musical, she recalled. Wasn’t it around this time? A Saturday, to be sure.

  “You know what,” said Joutsamo. “I think they’ve got tickets to a musical today.”

  “A musical?”

  “At the City Theater, if I remember right. I wouldn’t think there’d be too many musicals running at the same time.”

  Takamäki grabbed a copy of the Helsingin Sanomat and opened it to the entertainment section. “Two shows there today. A matinee at four and an evening show at seven-thirty.”

  Joutsamo looked at the clock. “Still a good hour before the matinee starts. Maybe we ought to have a look.”

  “I’ll come too. If they don’t show, let’s stop by their apartment and take a stroll around the neighborhood.”

  * * *

  Mari and Laura Lehtonen were sitting at a table for four on the second floor of the Hakaniemi McDonald’s. There were few other customers. Mari was sitting with her back to the wall, with a clear view of anyone who came up the stairs. Laura was facing her.

  The window provided a view of the empty Hakaniemi outdoor market. It had closed at two, the vendors having packed up their carts and left.

  Mari and Laura ate their hamburgers in silence. The decision to run had been discussed thoroughly back in Kirkkonummi. Laura had complied with her mother’s wishes.

  Mari saw him the moment his face came into view on the stairs. He spotted her and cut straight for their table.

  Mari set what was left of her hamburger on the table and followed his approach with her eyes. Anton Teittinen stopped and stood at the end of the table. Mari had called him an hour earlier to ask for a favor and they had arranged to meet here.

  Laura’s eyes went from the man to her mother with a mystified expression.

  Teittinen kept his gaze on Laura. “You sure have grown.”

  Laura was confused. And who is this supposed to be, her eyes seemed to say.

  “Laura, this is your father,” said Mari.

  Laura stood and threw her arms around his sturdy body. At first, he was taken off guard, but soon he wrapped his strong arms around her and held on. He couldn’t speak, nor could he keep the tears from welling up in his eyes. After about half a minute, the girl let go and so did Anton.

  “Sit, sit,” said Mari, glancing around at the other customers. Nobody had taken any interest in them.

  Anton Teittinen tried discreetly to dab away his tears, but he wasn’t fooling either of them. “Been quite some time,” he said. “Time you can’t get back. I…uhh…I’ve been pretty stupid.”

  Mari nodded. This was probably the closest to an apology Anton was capable of. “There’s no going back to the way it was,” she said.

  “That’s not what I meant. But maybe we could meet here…or someplace else, say, a few times a year?”

  “I’d like that,” said Laura.

  Mari nodded. “I’d be okay with it.”

  “Or what if dad came to see my play?”

  “If he wants to,” said Mari.

  “I don’t see why not, but…” he gathered his thoughts for a moment. “…about the current situation.”

  “Right,” said Mari. She looked at Laura, “I’ve told her everything.”

  “Okay, then I’ll just be blunt. There’s a lotta rumors going around about you. Hard saying what’s true and what’s not, but there could be some truth to them.”

  “We know, but who?” asked Mari.

  “Korpi, of course.”

  “Why?”

  “That I don’t know. Probably fu… Umm… Annoyed about his sentencing,” he said, smiling sheepishly at his daughter.

  Mari thought for a moment. “What do you think we should do?”

  “I dunno. You can’t show fear, but Korpi has some crazy guys in his corner. I really don’t know.”

  Laura cut in. “Are you a criminal?”

  Anton chuckled. “Uhh, how to put it… I never been much for the straight and narrow, but I’m not a bad man. At least not that bad,” he said, trying to keep a gentle face.

  “Listen,” said Mari. “We should go. Did you

  bring it?”

  Teittinen took a bag out from beneath the table. “I got some Christmas presents for the two of you. This bigger one is for your mom and this other is for you. I didn’t have time to wrap them. This all came up kinda sudden.”

  He handed the smaller package to the girl. “Here. Merry Christmas. It’s one of these MP3 players with a bunch of music already on there.”

  Laura smiled in surprise. “Thank you!”

  Mari didn’t want to ruin the moment by asking how and where he had managed to purchase a player with preloaded songs.

  “And Mari…maybe we should duck into the restroom to open this one.”

  Mari nodded and stood up. “Watch our stuff,” she said to Laura.

  The restrooms were on the second floor, small but private. Mari chose the women’s room. Anton followed and locked the door behind him. The room felt a bit cramped for Mari’s tastes—she didn’t care to be so close to her ex-husband.

  “I haven’t changed my mind about your testifying against Korpi. But let’s not talk about that right now. You’re both in trouble, so I’ll help you because of

  the girl.”

  He opened the box to reveal a small revolver with a roundish profile. The handle was made of dark

  wood, and mated with chrome-plated steel. The barrel seemed remarkably short.

  “It’s the best I could get on short notice. A short-barrel Smith & Wesson .44. It’ll fit in your purse and it’s fucking easy to use.”

  He cocked it, pulled the trigger, and the hammer snapped shut. “The bullets are in here.” He held up a small Zip-loc bag with six rounds in it, then took out a small rag and set about wiping his fingerprints off the weapon. “This is what the gun dealers always do.”

  “Where’s it from?”

  He shrugged. “Off the shelf of some gun shop in Turku for all I know.”

  “You stole it?”

  “No, but you’re not supposed to ask. It’s hot, at any rate, so don’t show it to your cop buddies.”

  “Okay,” said Mari. Teittinen handed her the weapon. It felt quite solid, though it didn’t weigh much more than two pounds. At least it brought a semblance of security. Now the target could shoot back if circumstances called for it.

  “It’ll stop the crackheads, too. Got a good kick, but as you can see by how short the barrel is, you’re not gonna hit anything past fifteen feet.”

  Lehtonen studied her ex. “Have you ever shot at anyone?”

  “Nah. Guns are more about the fear factor. But remember, you point this at somebody, you better be ready to pull the trigger. And if someone’s threatening Laura, you aim for the head. They’ll be picking brains off the pavement for a good while.”

  “How much do I owe you?” asked Mari as she packed the revolver back into the box, and the box into the plastic bag.

  Teittinen smiled. “I already told you it’s a Christmas present.”

  Mari slipped the
bag and the bullets into her blue handbag.

  CHAPTER 24

  SATURDAY, 3:40 P.M.

  HELSINKI CITY THEATER

  Joutsamo and Takamäki were standing in the atrium of the Helsinki City Theater. Takamäki took in the ambience of the forty-year-old building. Back in the sixties, it had been considered modern, but now it seemed cold and clinical. The detectives had chosen a spot next to the coat check where they could see the guests filing in through the main entrance. With their coats off, they did their best to act like theater-goers waiting for friends to arrive.

  The two had arrived at a quarter after three. By now, there was little to chat about. They’d already gone through the details of the case, and chitchat wouldn’t move it along. Circumstances remained grim from their standpoint. If the Lehtonens didn’t turn up at the theater, the police were just as lost as they were that morning. Kulta had spotted Mari and Laura on tape at the Helsinki Central Train Station, but the footage ended at the doors leading to the Railway Square.

  Takamäki glanced at his watch. “If they don’t come for this showing, the next is at seven.”

  “Yeah,” said Joutsamo as she scanned the new arrivals. She noticed a familiar TV reporter: Sanna Römpötti. Shit, she thought. The reporter came in

  with a short-haired boy of about ten and recognized the detectives immediately.

  “Just what we needed,” muttered Takamäki through a smile.

  Römpötti slipped out of her coat and came over to greet them. “A little culture to go with your crime, huh? What’s up?”

  Her question was intentionally open, as Römpötti was surprised to see the two of them at the theater together.

  Takamäki smiled. “The VCU theater club donated some tickets. Apparently hard to come by.”

  “Yeah,” answered Römpötti, and she gestured toward her young companion. “This is my godson, Tommi. Tommi, say hi to these nice police officers.”

  The boy smiled shyly and said hi.

  “Hi,” said Takamäki and Joutsamo.

  The reporter’s back was toward the door, but the detectives still had a view of the entrance. “I got my tickets way back in August. You know who’s singing the lead in this show?” said Römpötti.

  Neither detective even had a notion of what the choices might be. “I don’t, actually. The programs are up there,” said Joutsamo. “We’re just waiting for a couple of our colleagues and Takamäki’s wife.”

  “It’d be nice to meet her sometime,” said Römpötti.

  Joutsamo spotted Mari and Laura outside the glass entrance doors. They had to get rid of Römpötti fast. The reporter would quickly notice their interest in Mari. Römpötti had been at the trial, after all, and would surely recognize her.

  “Are your seats on the main floor or the balcony?” asked Joutsamo.

  “Main floor. Row seven on the right.”

  “Hm. We’re in the balcony. That must be the difference between detectives and reporters,” said Joutsamo with a smile.

  Little Tommi tugged on Römpötti’s sleeve. “That Sprite, remember?”

  Römpötti grinned. “Well, we’d better go. See you.”

  “Sure,” said Takamäki. He too had noticed the Lehtonens at the entrance. The sight of them was a huge relief, but Römpötti was still only a few feet off, so their original plan of immediately intercepting them wasn’t going to work. Römpötti would presumably take a final backward glance on the stairs en route to the lounge.

  Mari and Laura came into the atrium and began shedding their coats. Mari was lugging a large shoulder bag, so apparently they hadn’t stopped at home after leaving the safe house. The detectives turned their backs as the Lehtonens filed into the coat check line. Römpötti was already on the stairs with the boy when she turned back and waved. Joutsamo gave a nod, which earned a questioning look from Takamäki. “Römpötti’s on the stairs,” she explained.

  Within a minute, Mari was at the front of the line handing her jacket and shoulder bag to the coat check attendant, but she kept her blue handbag with her. Laura handed over her parka and took the ticket.

  “Where to?” said Joutsamo.

  “Let’s go in a little further,” said Takamäki. “We can’t talk to them here in the middle of the crowd.”

  The atrium was beginning to fill up already. People were drinking coffee, wine and beer, and eating overpriced pastries. The whole situation seemed rather absurd to Takamäki. At the heart of it all was a woman and a girl, the targets of a hardened criminal, and the police were trying to figure out how to approach them.

  “Let’s take them back into the corner,” said Takamäki, and he let Joutsamo go ahead.

  Joutsamo weaved swiftly through the crowd and approached the Lehtonens from behind. “Hi,” she said in a soft voice. “Everything alright?”

  Mari turned around first, then Laura. Takamäki came up alongside Joutsamo.

  “Yeah, fine,” said Mari as she pushed onward.

  “Listen,” said Joutsamo, still gently, but a bit firmer this time. “Can we talk?”

  “What about?”

  Takamäki cut in. “Why don’t you take a guess…you think this is some kind of game?”

  Mari was about to say something feisty, but she bit her tongue. Not with so many ears around. She thought for a moment before responding, “Sure, let’s talk. We’ve got a few minutes.”

  Joutsamo and Takamäki led Mari to a quieter section of the atrium. Laura hung back by the coat racks, about thirty feet away.

  “What’s going on?” said Joutsamo. “Why aren’t your phones on?”

  “The batteries are dead,” she snapped.

  They were all quiet for a while. “Let me get this straight,” said Takamäki. “We work our asses off on your behalf and you scrap it all just like that?”

  “And just what exactly have you done, if I might ask?”

  “Really,” he groaned. “Are you out of your mind? While we’re trying to find out who’s behind the threats, it’s vital that we know you’re safe. It allows us to concentrate on the investigation.”

  “Oh, so this is about your investigation.”

  “No,” said Takamäki. “It’s about…”

  Joutsamo interrupted her boss. His tack was clearly headed in the wrong direction, and she didn’t want Mari to be at odds with them. “Mari, tell me what’s going on…”

  “Why should I ruin my life because of some criminal?”

  Takamäki was stunned. Ruin her life? Soon she’d lose it. But he bit his tongue.

  Mari went on. “Seems to me this ‘safe house’ is just a place where you can tuck us away. Sweep us under the rug. We can’t cause any problems there. While the criminal gets to do whatever he wants.”

  “Mari,” said Joutsamo. “The criminal is in prison. You were sent there for your own good. So you’d be safe.”

  “For weeks or for months? I mean, the place was like a prison. Stuck in a room all day. I have a life. My daughter has a life. We have work, school, family, friends, interests. And tickets to the theater. What right do you have to lock us up?”

  Takamäki was about to say something, but Joutsamo shut him up. “We’re looking out for your safety. You’ve been threatened. This is a perfectly normal course of action.”

  “It might to be normal to you, but not to us. And what if the threats keep coming? What do you recommend then? That we move to Lapland or Sweden? Cut all ties to our old lives? Geez, if you can’t come up with something better, then I’ll take the risk.”

  “For Laura, too?”

  “Yeah, we’ve talked it through. We want our lives back. If I start being afraid all the time, I’ll never get my life back. I can’t give up. I can’t be afraid.”

  Joutsamo paused for a while. Takamäki had decided to keep quiet. “Let me ask you a question: Do you remember how you felt when Laura got that envelope?”

  Mari swallowed hard. “Yes, I’ll never forget. But I was weak then. I thought the experts could help us. But once we were
at the safe house, it dawned on me. You don’t care about our lives. You just don’t want problems. That’s why you had to get us out of the picture.”

  “Well, what do you want us to do?” said Takamäki, struggling to conceal his disgust.

  “Do what you want, but we’ll be going on with our lives.”

  The first chime sounded, signifying that the show would begin soon. “Right now, we’re going to watch the play. Afterwards, maybe we’ll have some tea and then head home. I don’t really give a rip what you cops do.”

  “Fair enough,” said Takamäki in resignation. “Enjoy the show. Good night. Afternoon, that is.”

  He gestured to Joutsamo, and they took their leave.

  “We can’t just leave them to Korpi you know,” said Joutsamo as she pulled on her coat. “The wolf will get his sheep in short order.”

  “She said herself she doesn’t care what the police do,” he snorted.

  “But…”

  “Stop and think, Anna,” he said as he held the entry door for her. The temperature had dipped well below freezing. “We’re not gonna abandon the case, we’ll just have to do without their cooperation. Basically, that means you get to stay here and wait till the show is over. Then you just politely ask if they’d like a ride in an unmarked squad. If they turn it down, follow them and make sure nothing happens.”

  “Isn’t that…”

  “She said herself she doesn’t give a rip what the cops do. At least for now, that’s the way we’ll have to do it. Like you said, we can’t just leave them to Korpi. To hell with the cost,” he said. “I’ll leave you the squad and catch a bus back to the station.”

  “I can drop you off,” said Joutsamo. “The show will probably take a couple hours, and I didn’t see any suspicious characters around.”

  “Except for Römpötti. Alright, let’s do that.”

  * * *

  It was nearing six o’clock and already dark outside. Suhonen was sitting in a car in the Haukilahti district of Espoo, staking out a house that belonged to Attorney Mats Martin. Suhonen had parked the car with a clear view of the façade. There was no doubt that there were people inside—the place was actually hopping. Presumably the lawyer was hosting some kind of party.