“Well, see . . . You’re the only one who knows how to fix this. Since you’re so smart,” Elisa said.
The boot-licking, unctuous voice and accompanying sickly sweet smile backfired. Lumikki started pulling her combat boots back on.
“I only came because you were scared and alone. No, because you demanded that I come. Because you can’t deal with being alone. Well. You clearly aren’t alone anymore. Problem solved. So I can go.”
Elisa slipped between Lumikki and the door.
“You can’t go now. Tuukka and Kasper forced their way in after they realized I wasn’t at school. They didn’t believe me when I said I had a migraine. I can’t get through this without you,” Elisa pleaded.
Lumikki’s fingers fiddled with her bootlaces for a few seconds.
She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to be afraid anymore. She’d only been thinking of herself then, though. She hadn’t realized that she could be afraid for someone else. If she left now and closed the door behind her, she might get herself out of all of this. She wouldn’t be getting away from the fear, though. She could ignore Elisa’s calls and text messages. She could even get an unlisted number. She could avoid seeing Elisa at school. She could treat her like she was invisible.
But she couldn’t stop herself from thinking. She couldn’t stop herself from contemplating what could happen to Elisa and whether the men who’d chased Lumikki might get their hands on her eventually. She would be afraid on Elisa’s behalf. She didn’t want that.
Lumikki knew she was already in too deep, in over her combat boots. It was all the same now whether she sank in up to her knees or her waist or her neck.
In hot water. Up shit creek. Not free. Lumikki hated that. But she couldn’t do anything about it.
Sighing deeply, she began pulling off her boots.
“I’ll stay. But just so you know, if Tuukka tries his tough-guy routine again, I’m calling the police that very second and throwing you all to the wolves.”
Elisa clapped her hands enthusiastically. Lumikki might as well have been listening to her own death knell.
“Did you find anything out from your dad last night?” Tuukka asked Elisa as she brought them large glasses of Coke in the living room.
Kasper had asked for his with a kick, but Elisa’s expression wiped the grin off his face.
Lumikki glanced at Tuukka. Elisa must have told the boys everything. Blabbermouth. But maybe it was best this way. Talking would be easier if they were all looking at the same map.
“My brain was barely functioning I was so hysterical about those men chasing Lumikki. I mean, chasing her thinking she was me. In the state I was in, I was lucky I could keep my mouth shut, let alone pull off some sort of cunning secret interrogation.”
Elisa set down the serving tray with the Coke glasses on the living room table. Ice cubes clinked against each other. She looked even more tired than she had the day before. The circles under her eyes were darker, her hair hadn’t been washed, and she didn’t have any makeup on. She was like a smudge on the pure linen fabric of the stylish living room, a stain on the furnishings that oozed high design. From the ceiling hung a large, bulbous lamp made of thin strips of wood laminate. Scandinavian lines, elegant artlessness, all for a price.
Lumikki found herself wondering again how they could pay for all of this on the salaries of a police officer and cosmetics sales agent. No one on the police force was making bank, and Elisa’s mom’s salary couldn’t be all that amazing either. An inheritance? Possible.
Or maybe it had something to do with a trash bag full of bloody money.
“Okay. So then let’s check your mom and dad’s computers,” Kasper said with the self-assurance of an up-and-coming small-time hood.
“Mom took her laptop with her on her trip, but Dad’s computer is in his office over there. But I don’t know—”
Elisa didn’t manage to complete her sentence before Kasper was already marching to the office door.
“I’ll check the computer. You guys check the files and stuff,” Kasper said.
Lumikki, Tuukka, and Elisa followed him into the office.
“Isn’t this sort of illegal?” Elisa asked as she riffled through her father’s desk drawers.
“I don’t remember legality really being much of an obstacle for you before,” Tuukka said with a laugh.
Elisa sighed. “Maybe it should be.”
Lumikki agreed, but she didn’t say so. Instead, she voiced another concern.
“We aren’t going to find anything about your dad’s work here. He’s got to have super strict rules about what papers he can bring home. Probably none. And the computer is a home computer. All of his work stuff is going to be on his work computer.”
“You’re right. Why didn’t I remember that?”
“Let’s look anyway,” Tuukka insisted. “There’s no way he would store anything about crimes he’s committing at the police station. That place is crawling with snitches.”
Elisa’s scowl limited Tuukka’s smile to that faint curl at the corner of his mouth. They searched in silence, without results. The office didn’t reveal anything but a meticulous father who kept his tax returns, insurance policies, and bills organized, and the folders on his computer clean.
“He hasn’t even been looking at any porn sites,” Kasper grumbled impatiently.
“Gross! Of course he hasn’t.” Elisa shuddered.
“But you have,” Tuukka snickered. “I’ve done enough snooping around your computer to know that.”
“Once, maybe, when a friend sent a link, and I clicked on it without thinking,” Elisa insisted.
Lumikki couldn’t stand listening to the trio’s pointless blather. What irritated her the most was Elisa’s voice, which around the boys had turned mousy, and her comments, which were growing increasingly stupid. Lumikki knew the phenomenon. All through middle school, she had watched in bewilderment as it took hold. After the summer between sixth and seventh grade, some of the girls came back to school acting like they’d dropped half of their brains in a lake somewhere. Girls who used to be really smart suddenly couldn’t even do simple math or run a hundred-yard dash without complaining that they were “gonna die.”
“Seriously, I’m gonna die!” they would squeal over and over throughout the day, sometimes thrilled, sometimes feigning helplessness. They painted their eyes and snapped bubble gum. It had taken Lumikki some time to figure out that the girls’ stupid act was meant for the boys. That their pathetic behavior was a signal that they were small, cute, and harmless. And sexy in just the right way for certain boys.
They shrank and dumbed themselves down so the best-looking boys in class could feel smarter and stronger. Lumikki had always wondered why the boys couldn’t see through the act. Didn’t they find it humiliating that the girls thought they had to pretend so the boys could feel superior? Of course, some boys did see through it, but the show wasn’t for their benefit anyway. They were too smart to be sexy.
For some reason, intelligence wasn’t sexy in middle school. If you wanted to be sexy, you had to avoid intelligence like the plague. Smart meant the same thing as boring, annoying, irritating, and, if not actually ugly, at least nothing much to look at.
Lumikki had thought things would change after middle school. Partly they did, but partly not. Now she could see that even some really accomplished adult women still dumbed themselves down in male company. It was embarrassing to watch. She hoped Elisa just had one foot still stuck in junior high, and that the behavior was a result of that, rather than some deeper issue or ingrained pattern.
“Let me take a look at the computer for a sec too,” Lumikki said to Kasper.
The boy looked at her dubiously.
“There isn’t anything there,” Kasper said.
“Just let me look anyway,” Lumikki insisted calmly. “Sometimes there’s a lot more on a machine than it looks like on the surface.”
“Ooo, so our super detective is also some kind of fu
cking computer genius,” Tuukka said mockingly.
“Yeah. I’m the secret love child of Hercule Poirot and Lisbeth Salander,” Lumikki replied without the slightest wavering in her expression, and sat down in the rolling chair Kasper had just vacated dramatically.
The trio stood behind her, watching. Lumikki hated that.
“So you’re Lumikki Poisander then?” Kasper asked, trying to keep up the joke.
No one laughed.
“Lumikki . . . Lumikki.”
Kasper seemed to be savoring the name, drawing out each syllable.
“You must have a nickname,” he said finally.
“No, I don’t,” Lumikki replied without turning around.
“Lumi?”
“No.”
“Mikki?”
“You think?”
“Okay, maybe not. What about Snow White then? That is your—”
Lumikki pushed the chair back so suddenly that it banged into Kasper, and then she spun around.
“Ouch! Watch it.”
Kasper massaged his knee irritably.
“Chill. Out. This could take a while,” Lumikki said, throwing Elisa a meaningful look.
Fortunately, the girl still knew how to use her brain sometimes.
“Let’s go finish our Cokes in the living room,” Elisa said. “Shout if you find anything.”
Lumikki nodded and turned back to the monitor. After a moment, she heard the door close behind her. Blessed quiet.
She had to act quickly. No way would the quiet last.
Terho Väisänen turned up his collar and pulled the green scarf his daughter had knitted him over his mouth. The cold sank its sharp claws into any bare patch of skin as soon as he stepped outside. He considered running home from the police station to Pyynikki in his car, but he decided to walk after all. Maybe the cold would stimulate his brain, which had been unacceptably sluggish.
Two questions were bothering Terho.
Where was his money?
Where was Natalia?
And was that the order of importance of those questions? Of course not, but sometimes Natalia went quiet for several days on end, sometimes even weeks. She didn’t always have time to answer Terho’s calls and texts and e-mails. He was used to that. So Natalia’s disappearance didn’t really mean anything yet. In contrast, it definitely did mean something that Boris Sokolov had practically reached through the cell phone to throttle Terho when he called to ask about the money. Sokolov said the money had already been delivered.
But it hadn’t.
Either Sokolov was lying or the Estonians were lying to Sokolov. The latter was more likely. Terho had actually been surprised that they had gone so long without one of them trying to stick his hand in the cookie jar and make some quick cash. He chalked this discipline up to the Estonians having seen how Sokolov dealt with disloyalty. No one wanted to experience Sokolov’s brand of justice. And of course, Sokolov took his orders from higher up just like everyone else. The hierarchy of power and fear kept everyone in line.
Except for now. Now, someone had decided to take a little extra for himself.
Terho hated the thought that a system that had worked so well up until now might be falling apart. He had done his own part without asking any questions. From the beginning, he was in this for the money, and he still needed it. If the cash stopped coming, his options would be limited. He hadn’t built himself a safety net for the future, even though he knew he should have. The amount he had in savings was pathetic. Of course, he could always burn Sokolov and company in revenge, but that was impossible without implicating himself with them. All that would be left was smoking wreckage.
He couldn’t let that happen.
Because negotiations hadn’t gone anywhere with Sokolov, he would have to try making an agreement directly with Polar Bear. That wouldn’t be easy. Polar Bear wrote his own rules, and if he didn’t like the way the game was going, he simply knocked the other players off the board.
Terho walked along the Tampere Highway and cursed himself for ever having gotten involved. Not only was it criminal, it was morally wrong. It was, no matter how many mornings he had spent staring out the window while his family still slept, rationalizing how the arrangement had its good sides. For the police force and for the community. He had received information from Sokolov that had helped the police capture any number of dealers and traffickers. They had cleaned up the Tampere underworld so thoroughly that Terho’s unit had received commendations from the highest levels of government. Terho had reminded himself of that as he watched the neighboring homes waking from their morning slumber. The slowly rising sun had mocked his self-deception though. He had to avert his gaze from the sun, pour more milk in his coffee, and look elsewhere as he continued lying to himself.
Back then, years ago, taking the offer had seemed like the only viable option. Gaming debts and unpaid loans hung around his neck. Terho had drifted imperceptibility into a downward spiral of gambling. At first, gambling had been an easy way to relax and clear his head after a hard day at work, but little by little, it became a full-blown addiction. Playing online was far too easy, and he had to play for money so it would feel like something—so he could get the adrenaline rush he needed. He had also had a wife at home with expensive tastes, and at that point, Terho had still wanted to give her all the best the world could offer.
And then there was Elisa, his daughter, whom he loved more than he had ever thought possible. Everything he had done had also been for her. So she would never have to be ashamed of her house or her clothes. Or ever worry about money. Too often as a child and teenager, Terho had been forced to lie and say a pair of flea-market jeans were actually new, or that a coat from his cousin was really from a trip they took abroad. The truth was that his father drank up their middle-class income. Terho had been so ashamed that he’d sworn off alcohol and joined the narcotics police, where at least he could fight against illegal drugs, since there was nothing he could do about the deadly drug called alcohol.
Nevertheless, a predisposition to addiction had been passed from father to son. The need to get kicks from something, fast and without a lot of thought. But Terho had always made sure his gaming didn’t interfere with his family. It was his private, personal vice. He had even succeeded in cutting down how much he played compared to his worst addict years, but that still didn’t mean he could manage without a regular fix.
For the past year, there’d been an additional reason for Terho to cooperate with Sokolov: Natalia. Despite how much younger she was, he was helplessly in love, head over heels like a teenager. He’d known from the beginning that it was crazy and hopeless and dangerous, but he couldn’t resist Natalia’s smile and those big, innocent eyes that you’d never guess had seen so much. He was already mourning the fact that, at some point, he would be forced to give up Natalia’s company, her silky smooth skin, and the dimples in her cheeks. It was unavoidable. The relationship couldn’t go on forever unless Terho was willing to sacrifice his marriage, his family, and ultimately, his career for it. He wasn’t ready for that, despite having promised her in tender moments that he would leave his wife and begin a new life with her. The promises of a man in love, promises that he could never keep. Natalia understood, he told himself. She was a smart young woman, smarter than she looked.
But Terho wanted to save her. He owed her at least that much. He wanted Natalia to have a better life and not have to work for Sokolov anymore. Terho didn’t know how he would handle it yet, but he was sure he’d figure something out. That was another reason the whole arrangement couldn’t fall apart right now just because the Estonians couldn’t keep their paws out of the piggy bank.
In the park, a painfully cold wind was coming in off the lake, making Terho regret not driving. Even his high-tech down coat was no match for this insanely cold winter.
A work meeting had been cancelled at the last minute, leaving him with a good hour of free time. He’d decided to use it to stop by home and make lunch for himself
and Elisa, who was suffering from a migraine or some kind of female issue. Or plain old laziness. Terho had to admit it to himself. His daughter was sweet and popular and the dearest thing to him in the world, but she wasn’t the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree. Maybe a magnet school wasn’t really the place for her after all.
Terho went over his plan.
He would have to contact Polar Bear. The only way to do that would be via e-mail, and he’d have to send it from his home computer, because he didn’t dare send it from work or from his phone.
At the same time, he’d write to Natalia again and ask why he hadn’t heard from her. He missed her so much. The longing chilled his bones even more than the biting wind.
Brown eyes. Bleached hair with just a hint of darker roots. Here and there, streaks lighter than the rest. Hair extensions. Heavily plucked eyebrows. Lips that might be enhanced or might just be that full naturally.
Age: somewhere between seventeen and twenty-five?
In most of her pictures, she struck a serious pose, lips slightly parted. In one picture, though, she was smiling, showing off deep dimples. The smile made her look younger and more vulnerable. In the same picture was a middle-aged man who had exactly the same nose as Elisa. The woman wore expensive clothing that announced how expensive it was. There was one more close-up of the couple, which they’d probably taken themselves with a camera phone, that showed them kissing and laughing. They looked obscenely happy.
Lumikki felt like a voyeur looking at the pictures, which had been hidden rather primitively on the computer. Before finding them, she had already located a username and password for an anonymous e-mail account. The mail folders were empty, though. Elisa’s dad either didn’t use it or—more likely—he always deleted any e-mails after reading them.
“Elisa,” Lumikki called.
Elisa came to the door. Mercifully, Tuukka and Kasper had decided to entertain themselves by playing Wii in the living room.
“Will you close the door please?” Lumikki asked, and Elisa complied. Then Lumikki took a deep breath and continued.
As Red as Blood (The Snow White Trilogy) Page 7
