The amount of blood, however, proved that Nurminen had lived for some time during the attack. Had he died on the first stab wound, his heart would have stopped pumping blood.
“Dead,” said Nykänen. “No pulse.”
“Alright. Let’s not mess up the prints anymore-give forensics a chance.”
The men withdrew into the hallway. “They can’t have much of a head start. I’m sure that butcher job took a while, and if their lead at the Corner Pub was half an hour…”
Suhonen dug out his phone. “That half an hour was Macho’s drunken guess. In reality, it could be more.”
Nykänen eyed the bloody corpse from the door.
“That there looks like Steiner’s work. You remember what he served those seven years for?”
“His girlfriend.”
Nykänen nodded.
“Think Salmela was here?”
“No. That looks like torture. If Salmela was here, they wouldn’t have had a reason for it.”
“Steiner doesn’t always need a reason. You think he talked?” Nykänen wondered.
“Tough to say. Most do and Nurminen sure would’ve. Based on this mess, I’d guess he didn’t know where Salmela was, but the Skulls didn’t believe him.”
He glanced at the body and noticed a piece of paper lodged between the man’s arm and the side of the tub. Not wanting to touch it with his hands, he grabbed two knives from the kitchen drawer, slipped back into the bathroom and plucked out the note.
In large shaky letters, it read, “RAT.”
The officers examined the note. “How do we know Salmela didn’t do this? That’s a possibility,” said Nykänen.
Suhonen shook his head and phoned Takamäki.
* * *
A blue Audi A4 rounded the west side of the circular Ympyrätalo building at the edge of Hakaniemi Market Square and stopped at a red light.
The men had been largely silent since they left the apartment. Larsson was behind the wheel and Steiner sat next to him. The driver fumbled a joint out of a metal box and lit up. Larsson cracked a window as the sweet smell of marijuana filled the car.
“Didn’t exactly go as planned,” said Larsson, offering the joint to his buddy.
“What was the plan?” Steiner replied coolly. “I thought the whole point was to find the rat. I know that cauliflower-eared fool knew where he was.”
Larsson knew it was fruitless to start an argument with this junkie, but he went on, “He didn’t know anything more. If he did, he would have talked… I believe his story. Salmela was there, but he went to get some pizza and beer.”
“Well, maybe we should have stayed and waited for him to come back.”
“Yeah, and wait for the cops too, with all the racket we made.”
The lights changed and Larsson turned northbound onto Hämeen Street. “That pizza joint was practically across the street. The little shit probably smelled a trap and took off.”
They had both taken five minutes to clean up their tracks, and they had worn gloves so there shouldn’t be any prints. Their beanie hats kept loose hairs from falling, so hopefully no DNA was left at the scene. At some point, they’d have to destroy their clothing, so no fibers could be linked to them, though both were wearing jeans, which had such a common fiber as to render them useless as evidence.
Emptying a fire extinguisher into the car would wipe out the prints in it. Had they had more time, they would’ve taken the body along and properly disposed of it.
On the other hand, the “rat” note made the murder look like Salmela’s work. Two friends got in a fight and Salmela made a break for it.
In Larsson’s opinion, killing Nurminen was stupid. Roughing him up would have been enough, but Steiner had gotten out of hand. The stop at the Corner Pub wasn’t very smart either, but he hoped the Skulls’ reputation would keep anyone from talking to the cops.
At any rate, now they had to finish the job.
CHAPTER 23
MONDAY, 7:40 P.M.
PASILA POLICE HEADQUARTERS, HELSINKI
Honkala stared at Takamäki. “Shit.”
“Brutal and bloody enough that it’ll be prosecuted as a murder,” Takamäki remarked. Finnish law divided homicide into three categories: murder, manslaughter, and killing. Murder, which carried a life sentence, was reserved for premeditated or particularly brutal acts causing serious danger to the public.
Five detectives sat at their computers in the VCU’s conference room. Investigators from the NBI, Helsinki, and the neighboring Espoo police departments streamed in and out, reporting the latest news. The head of each investigative branch received the intel, sorted it out and then relayed the main points to Honkala. Takamäki was somewhat envious of how well the system worked. This was how he would have wanted the VCU to work, but they only had the staff for it in exceptional circumstances. This case was exceptional and was getting more so at every turn.
“The name was Kauko Nurminen, you say?”
Takamäki glanced at Joutsamo’s printout of Ear-Nurminen’s rap sheet and handed it to Honkala. “Minor stuff. A former burglar, but he’s been more focused on drinking and shooting the breeze lately.”
Takamäki had already described the victim’s condition, as well as what Suhonen and Nykänen had told him. A team from forensics was already on the way.
“So the duo that was kicked off the case is now on the hottest trail.”
“How should I put it? Suhonen and Nykänen make a dynamic team. More often than not, they’ll end up on the right track.”
Honkala chuckled. “The dynamic duo. Yes, of course.”
Takamäki was glad that Honkala had loosened up his tie over the course of the evening. Managing an investigation involving nearly a hundred officers with a tight tie would have been too much. If nothing else, the blood supply to his head would be disrupted.
“And the two top dogs at the Skulls are our prime suspects?” asked Honkala.
“According to them, Larsson is second-in-command. The president is doing life in Turku. Steiner, well, he’s a psycho. Never know what to expect from him. But you’re right in that these two hold the most sway with the Skulls right now.”
“What grounds do we have for suspicion?”
Takamäki repeated Suhonen’s story and explained how Macho had told them that the two Skulls had come to the Corner Pub looking for Salmela, and how he had directed them to Nurminen’s apartment. Takamäki also told him about the note found in the bathtub, which got Honkala thinking.
“There’s always the possibility that Salmela killed his buddy for ratting on him,” Honkala noted. “Let’s not forget about that.”
“Of course not. We’ll follow every lead, but the one from the Corner Pub makes these two Skulls prime suspects.”
“We should take this Macho in for questioning before he finds out what happened to his buddy. After he finds out, we won’t get anything out of him,” said Honkala as he glanced around the bustling room.
“Listen, Kari. Would it be possible for you to take this Ear-Nurminen angle?”
“Fine with me, but is that going to be okay with the bosses?”
“Let them hash it out among themselves later on. We have crimes to solve here.”
“Good call. And I can use Nykänen and Suhonen?”
“We’ll need Nykänen back at the NBI tomorrow. Otherwise, I don’t see why not. Let them have at it. It’ll do Nykänen good to be back in the field and away from the coffeemaker for a while.”
Takamäki looked at Honkala. “I’m guessing you have the S.W.A.T. team on standby. When are you looking to raid the Skulls’ compound?”
“You’re thinking now?”
“For two reasons. First: we might get some forensic evidence for the bombing. Second: I’m thinking about this Nurminen’s murder. The top brass at the Skulls are suspects, so it’s possible we’ll find them at the compound. We have plenty of probable cause for a search warrant.”
“We’ll have to hit Larsson’s and Steiner’
s apartments at the same time,” Honkala said.
“I’ll dig up the addresses. You let the S.W.A.T. team know so they’re ready.”
* * *
Salmela paid no attention to the cars hurtling past on Hämeen Street in Kallio.
“Can you help me out?” Salmela asked over the phone as he walked down the street.
“What do you need?” asked Juha Saarnikangas.
“A place to crash for the night. I gotta figure out some stuff…can’t go home right now.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll tell you later. Help me out,” he begged. The ex-junkie was the only one he could think of who could help-even if Saarnikangas didn’t have a fat wad of cash in his pocket.
“Where are you?”
“On Hämeen Street. If nothing else, I’ve got a door code for a basement nearby that should still work. But can’t you help me out?”
Saarnikangas promised to look into it and call him back shortly. He hung up.
A couple of minutes later, Salmela reached the unemployment office building. Its entry lights glared off the pavement. A car turned onto Hämeen Street and slowed down as it came abreast of Salmela. He turned abruptly into the courtyard of the unemployment office, picking up the pace. The car sped up and followed him in.
Salmela glanced back at the car. In the dim lighting from the entryway and the street lamps, the shadowy faces of Larsson and Steiner were visible. Larsson had a phone to his ear.
The parking lot of the courtyard had room for about thirty cars. Salmela looked about frantically for an escape route, but he was cornered. He stopped in his tracks in the middle of the parking lot.
His swirling thoughts brought him back to the cliff in Nuuksio. There had been no escape there either. He didn’t stand a chance-struggle was futile. Fate usually proved more merciful than a fight.
The car stopped a few feet short of him. Back at Ear-Nurminen’s place, luck had struck when he spotted Larsson and Steiner walking into the building from the window of the pizzeria. He had known better than to go back. Salmela had taken off walking-he didn’t dare run. He had passed the fire station along Agricola Street. Then the streets had seemed too dangerous, and he ducked into a bar for a beer.
For a moment, the familiar surroundings had made him feel safe, but then anxiety struck. He thought about calling Suhonen, but the officer had only caused him trouble recently. That wasn’t the right answer, and he couldn’t just sit there in the bar, waiting for the inevitable. He had to keep moving. The labyrinthine streets of Merihaka had crossed his mind and he headed in that direction. He might be able to find some unlocked door to a warm cellar and sleep there for the night. That had its risks, though. Security guards made their rounds, and getting caught could land him in jail. He had hoped Saarnikangas could’ve provided refuge, but now it didn’t matter.
Salmela stood in the headlights, resigned to his fate as Larsson and Steiner climbed out of the car.
* * *
“Shit,” Nykänen said as he gunned the car through the tunnel under Merihaka. “This is hopeless.”
“You have any better ideas?” asked Suhonen.
The NBI lieutenant mulled it over. Technology couldn’t help-they had no way to use GPS tracking, phone records, wire taps or any other means of pinpointing the target. Nykänen’s thoughts wandered back to the nineties, when he had been chasing violent offenders in the same manner. If somebody ran, walked in a peculiar manner or fit the description, they were stopped and questioned. They had criss-crossed the city by car, watching for anything suspicious. Now, it seemed a complete waste of time.
“No.”
“Let’s take a spin through those parking ramps,” Suhonen suggested. He recalled an old case that had given the parking ramp a grim reputation. A homeless bum had beaten a tax official to death with a roofing hammer. The VCU had dumped countless hours into solving the case. When he was drunk, Salmela had bragged a few times about how he could break into the Merihaka cellars if he ever needed to.
They weren’t the only ones on the prowl anymore. To help in the murder investigation, Takamäki had dispatched five squad cars to patrol the streets of Kallio for Larsson and Steiner. The patrol officers had been given a description of Salmela as well.
Nykänen swung the car right into the first entrance to the concrete ramp. There were lots of cars, though the corporate spots were empty. Nykänen drove at a crawl through the ramp, but nobody was in sight.
On the left, an escalator ascended to street level.
“Can’t get up there by car,” said Nykänen.
“Sure we can, but not through there.”
They came upon a concrete wall and Nykänen turned left. The route through the ramp led back to the same entrance they had just descended. On the right was a vast parking lot.
“If someone wanted to hide here, we wouldn’t have a chance of finding him.”
“Unless he was nervous enough that he couldn’t sit tight,” said Suhonen, his eyes scanning the cars. He was ready to burst out of the vehicle in a foot pursuit at any moment.
“Right or left?”
“Left. Let’s go back to Kallio and comb the streets for another half hour. Then let’s start leaning on a few people and see what we can find out.”
* * *
Larsson raised the gun and pressed it against Salmela’s forehead. “Goddamn bastard!” he hissed.
Larsson was amazed that Salmela didn’t respond. He didn’t cry, beg, complain or even soil himself.
“Pull the trigger and let’s get outta here,” Steiner said, standing beside the door of the car. He took a swig from a water bottle. Smoking weed always made him thirsty. The parking lot was empty.
“I’m not gonna shoot this pathetic asshole here. That’d be too nice,” Larsson said and lowered his weapon.
Steiner took a step forward and a knife appeared in his hand. “If you can’t do it, I will.”
“No, you won’t. Get in the car-both of you!”
Steiner stared at Larsson, who was obviously serious. Salmela obeyed at once and headed toward the car. Larsson followed close behind and Steiner groaned. Drawing this out further would not bode well.
Salmela settled into the back seat and Steiner slid in next to him. Larsson climbed into the driver’s seat and whipped a U-turn in the parking lot. He didn’t say a thing. In the back seat, next to Salmela, Steiner twirled a bloody knife in his hand.
CHAPTER 24
MONDAY, 9:00 P.M.
SKULLS’ COMPOUND, HELSINKI
Beneath their helmets, the S.W.A.T. officers were wearing black ski masks. The first in line next to the wall was Jack Saarinen. Though Jack wasn’t his real name, it had stuck because of his appearance, which was uncannily similar to TV’s “Jack Bauer” of 24.
All twelve of the officers in the stack were decked out in black. The majority of them held MP5 sub-machine guns, though a couple had shotguns. Jack was also wielding a ballistic shield. The street lights cast the dark shadows of the policemen onto the concrete wall of the Skulls’ headquarters.
The S.W.A.T team’s vehicles were parked a couple of hundred yards away and the team had crept in from there. They had snipped an entry hole in the flimsy fence. Back at police headquarters, they’d gone over the blueprints and the plan was clear-a surprise attack would give them the upper hand.
Just behind Jack, officer Jarmo Eronen waited. He had a heavy battering ram to bash open the lock on the front door. If that didn’t work, a third policeman had a shotgun equipped with a lock-slug at the ready. Instead of a regular cartridge, it was loaded with a heavy metal slug that would destroy any ordinary lock.
Jack thought this was a perfect location. Far away from any residences in the middle of an industrial district. Almost like training.
The order came over his earpiece. “Let’s go,” said the calm voice of Turunen, the S.W.A.T. team’s commander. Each officer was wearing a headset with an earpiece and microphone.
Jack lifted the heavy b
allistic shield off the ground and quietly covered the remaining distance to the door.
Eronen ducked out of line, came next to Jack and studied the door and lock. It would be too time consuming to pick and they didn’t have the code for the keypad. Eronen swung back the hulking battering ram. For the moment, the element of surprise was still theirs, but not after the racket he was about to cause.
The ram smashed into the lock and the door bounced open.
The entryway was dim, but not completely dark. No need for night-vision. Jack took up the lead behind his shield and the others followed in a tight line.
A squad car pulled up to the curb with its lights flashing and two officers and a German shepherd joined the others.
The S.W.A.T. officers had flipped on their laser sights. Through the window of the shield, Jack watched the red specks dancing in front of him.
The entry was empty and the stack of officers proceeded up the stairs. A glimmer of light came down the stairwell, telling Jack there was no door at the top of the stairs, or at least it wasn’t closed.
“The top of the stairs is open,” he reported over the radio. They continued halfway up before Jack stopped. Eronen dug two canisters, each slightly longer and thinner than a beer can, from the cargo pocket of his pants, pulled the pin out of the first and hurled it through the doorway to the left. Immediately afterwards, the second one flew to the right.
“Police!” Eronen shouted.
The officers shielded their eyes as the stun grenades exploded. The brilliant flashes of light would blind anyone on the upper floor for about five seconds, and the 180 dB blast would slam their ear drums shut.
* * *
Niko Andersson was sprawled on the sagging office sofa, his body hardly able to fit. After hearing the crash downstairs, he struggled to his feet and hurried into the main room, where Roge and Osku were already on their feet. None of them knew what to do. The intruders were likely already on their way up, so they couldn’t go down the stairs.
Vengeance hh-2 Page 22
