Derailed

by Leena Lehtolainen

  Over lunch we compared the results of our statistical analyses and discussed how to craft the progress report we needed to deliver before Christmas. Outi suggested that we come up with a sensational title about violent women like “Mommy, Don’t Hit the Baby.”

  “I can guarantee you there are people in Parliament who will be happy to give us more funding if we can prove that women are just as violent as men,” she said in defense of her suggestion.

  “Yeah, but show me one objective study,” Jarkko said. I realized that if I wanted to use this material for my licentiate dissertation, I’d need to find out what law schools were currently interested in and what methods were in fashion. When I was doing my master’s thesis, Finland had been in a deep recession, and that had impacted students’ research projects. Now the old guard from the 1960s was retiring from academia, and you didn’t have to be a fortune-teller to see that a new era was dawning in the legal establishment too. Liberalism was flourishing in the economy, but in jurisprudence we seemed to be swinging toward harshness, and one politician had even dared suggest the possibility of reinstating the death penalty.

  Next on my schedule was an interview with someone for whom this would be the last session. Hinni had lived with her abusive boyfriend for a couple of years, and their final fight had ended with Hinni stabbing him, an injury that ultimately put him in a wheelchair. She was now on parole and trying to stay off drugs. I remembered one of my colleagues claiming that 90 percent of violent crimes in Finland wouldn’t happen if not for drugs. Hinni and her boyfriend had been fighting over the last can of beer, but they’d also been popping sedatives, which in this case hadn’t had the desired effect.

  I was just putting the finishing touches on my report about Hinni’s visit when a knock came at the door. I didn’t have another appointment on my schedule, so I was a little surprised. There was a strict policy about who was allowed past the door downstairs; maybe it was just Outi or Jarkko.

  “Come in!” I yelled, standing up just in case I’d have to face an irate ex or inebriated client. “Door’s open.”

  Instead of danger, in walked two people I liked very much: my current superior, Senior Inspector Mikko Rajakoski from the Ministry of the Interior, and my former boss, Jyrki Taskinen, head of the Espoo Police Criminal Division.

  “Hi! What are you two doing here?” I was going to hug Taskinen, but then I stopped in my tracks. Had something happened to Iida or Taneli? Or Antti? Taskinen’s expression told me I wasn’t going to like what he had to say. Anxiety replaced my initial shock.

  Taskinen walked over to the window. “Nice view,” he said. “It’s too bad you’re going to have to give it up.”

  “What do you mean?” I looked from one man to the other. A tram clattered by on the street below, and a car honked its horn. The four o’clock rush, eternal and immutable, worse and worse every year.

  “Your assignment is changing, effective tomorrow,” Rajakoski finally said. I stared at him in confusion. The project was supposed to continue through the end of the next year. Had Parliament suddenly canceled the funding? Taskinen evaded my gaze as Rajakoski continued.

  “You’re temporarily returning to the Espoo police. Just until this Pentti Vainikainen case has been solved. You’ll take over the investigation. You can have whatever personnel and equipment you need.”

  I still didn’t comprehend what Rajakoski was trying to tell me. Go back to the Espoo police? What the hell?

  “What do you mean? Anni is there. You can’t seriously want me coming in and walking all over her? And I’m not under the police administration anymore!”

  “You are now,” Taskinen said gruffly. “Maria, we don’t have any choice because—” He cut himself off.

  Rajakoski and Taskinen exchanged a glance, then Rajakoski nodded and Taskinen cleared his throat. “This requires revealing some personal information, but Anni is going on partial sick leave. After many years, her fertility treatments finally worked. She’s expecting triplets in February. I’m sure you understand the risks, Maria.” Taskinen spoke in a serious, warm tone, the purpose of which seemed to be to express that he was a good boss who understood his subordinates. But I wasn’t falling for his nice-guy act.

  “I have a contract for this project! You can’t just drag me back into police work without my consent!”

  “Did you read the small print in your employment contract?” I could have sworn Mikko Rajakoski was enjoying this a little bit. “Right at the end it says that if the organization that commissioned the project needs you for other duties, you can be reassigned as long as the contract remains in force.”

  “But that was about possibly expanding the project from domestic violence to workplace violence, if we got more resources. I signed a contract to be a researcher, not a cop!” I felt like slamming my fist on the table, but that would have looked ridiculous. Rage pounded in my chest and then moved to my head, and I could feel a rushing sensation in my ears. Was this what people meant by “a spike in blood pressure”?

  “Yes, you signed an employment contract with the Interior Ministry Police Division. Today I spoke with the minister and the chief director of the police force. Here’s your transfer order.” Mikko took an envelope out of his breast pocket and handed it to me. I felt like ripping it up, but instead I opened it. The paper inside said plainly that Maria Kristiina Kallio, LLM, would be transferred effective the following day to a special assignment with the Espoo Police Violent Crime Unit, to investigate the death of Pentti Kalervo Vainikainen. The assignment would continue until the pretrial investigation was complete, and I would be given the right to form an investigative team of my choosing from the unit’s permanent staff.

  “We’re focusing more resources on this than we usually would in a criminal investigation. Just think, Maria, you can have Koivu and Puupponen on your team. And what about Ursula Honkanen? She just came back from profiler training at the Police University College. Won’t that be helpful?” Taskinen continued, still smiling warmly. “We can’t get you a uniform right away, though this will mostly be a plainclothes gig anyway. Your phone, e-mail account, and business cards have already been ordered. This investigation will be an independent project separate from everything else the VCU is doing. Anni will retain control of the other cases. Come to the station at nine tomorrow, and we’ll go through everything we know so far with Anni and Koivu. Which isn’t much.”

  “Jesus Christ, you can’t be serious! Isn’t there someone else you could pull in? There are cops in this country who are fucking unemployed, and more are graduating all the time!”

  “All junior officers, Maria.” Rajakoski’s voice was sharp. “The minister of the interior isn’t the only cabinet member who’s already been in contact with the police administration. Sports are important to a lot of people in high places, and you must understand that a homicide investigation is going to trump a domestic violence project. The crimes you’re studying have already been solved.”

  “Not all of them!” I exclaimed, remembering the Snork Maiden. “We have anonymous subjects that need to be identified.”

  “Outi and Jarkko can handle that for now. You don’t have a choice, Maria. And besides, you already have the background on this case, because you know both Jutta Särkikoski and Hillevi Litmanen, who most likely served the poisoned sandwich to Vainikainen. No, Maria,” Rajakoski continued quickly when I tried to interrupt his torrent of words. “Not the kind of background that would create a conflict of interest. Don’t even try it.”

  “What if I break my leg? Or my neck?”

  Rajakoski laughed, but Taskinen remained serious. “Don’t you understand, Maria, that you’re going to concentrate on this one crime, and you’ll have access to all available resources? If you want a car, we’ll get you a car. This is a much bigger case than anything you’ve done before. Bigger even than the Petri Ilveskivi murder. See you tomorrow at the department, nine a.m.”

  “Are you going to tell Antti about this?”

  �
��I can call if that’s necessary. Is his phone number the same?” Taskinen pulled out his cell.

  “Oh, give it a rest! And get out of here before the Helsinki police get a call that someone’s throwing computers and binders around.” Keeping my voice under control required considerable effort. I felt like screaming and shouting, and Taskinen and Rajakoski seemed to sense that now was a good time to leave. They skulked out like rabbits being eyed by an angry hunting dog.

  After they left, I sat back down in my chair. I hit the desk once, but all that did was make my wrist hurt. Violence wasn’t the answer. I listened as Rajakoski first talked to Jarkko and then Outi, the latter of whom gave an indignant yell. I felt like asking Outi out for a beer, but that wouldn’t change anything. All I could do was head to the grocery store and then home as normal, tell my family the bad news, and then let my mother-in-law know that we were probably going to need her again. Antti might be able to do some of his research from our home office . . .

  When I realized how quickly I was falling into line and reorganizing my family’s life, I became even more irritated. Before going home, I traded a few words with Jarkko and Outi. Jarkko was confused and angry, and Outi was as furious as a cat with its head caught in a pickle jar.

  “You’re an expert, though. You’ll solve the case and be back here in a couple of weeks,” Jarkko said, trying to sound reassuring. I appreciated the effort.

  On the bus I read through my transfer order but didn’t find any loopholes. My employment contract didn’t offer any either. According to the eighth article of the Police Act, the Ministry of the Interior can grant police powers to anyone it so chooses. According to the forty-first article, any official has to render assistance to the police, and according to the forty-fifth, even a civilian has a duty to assist in criminal cases. That was the legal web they’d used to catch me.

  My heart had started to pound, and my breathing had sped up, so I closed my eyes and tried to take deep, calming breaths. This was a completely different case from the last one. No one was going to attack me, and I wasn’t going to take any unnecessary risks ever again . . . My lawyer skills must have been really rusty for this application of my contract not to have occurred to me. When I got off the bus, I continued the deep breathing until my pulse returned to normal. As I trudged into the grocery store, I thought about the only good part of my temporary change of employment: now I could walk or bike to work. At the store, I bought Antti’s favorite rye bread and ice cream for the kids.

  At home I made pasta carbonara, which didn’t require much culinary expertise. I poured Antti and me glasses of wine too. Fortunately, the children had a lot to report on, and I listened to their stories about school in silence. Once they’d disappeared to their rooms, I remained sitting at the table.

  “So, Antti . . . I have something to tell you. Something you’re not going to like.”

  Antti flinched, and the expression on his narrow face tightened.

  “What? Do you have a new man or something? When do you fit him in?”

  I laughed, although I didn’t really feel all that amused. Antti stared at me with a confused look on his face.

  “Well, no,” I said after a moment. “It has to do with work. I’m transferring to Espoo.”

  “Why? Isn’t your office downtown good enough? Or does the ministry no longer have money to cover the rent?”

  “It isn’t that. I’m starting another project. But it’s only a project, just this one case. For the Espoo police. I’m leading the investigation into Pentti Vainikainen’s poisoning,” I blurted out.

  Antti was quiet. Silence surrounded us like a fog, condensing into a cool wall between us.

  I poured more wine into my glass. There were still fifteen hours until nine a.m.

  “I don’t get it,” Antti finally said. Then comprehension dawned on him. “Oh, that! I saw the tabloids. There was a homicide in Espoo, and you volunteered to solve it since you already know about the death threats Jutta Särkikoski is getting. Is that it?”

  “Not at all! Taskinen and Rajakoski just showed up at my office today and . . .” I tripped over my words as I explained the visit to Antti. His expression gradually changed, and I could tell that his anger was no longer directed at me.

  “Can they really do that?” he finally asked, refilling his glass. “Something like that can happen at the university, since the administration considers us livestock, the only purpose of which is to pump out publications, but . . . since when did the police turn into the army?”

  Bon Jovi started playing on my phone. That was Koivu’s work phone ringtone. I picked up.

  “Maria. I mean, boss. What the fuck!” Koivu said.

  “Don’t swear. I’ve already filled the quota for both of us today.”

  “But . . . so you’re starting tomorrow?”

  “Nine o’clock on the dot. What’s the situation there?”

  “I’m headed home to get some sleep. Things are frozen until you get here. We haven’t had time to do much more than basic background. It looks like a poisoning, but of course, we still don’t have the labs. Our assumption at this point is that the poison was in the bread. So far we’ve interviewed the wife, Merja Vainikainen, and the CEO of MobAbility, Tapani Ristiluoma. Hillevi Litmanen is still a zombie, so we can’t get anything out of her. She’s been taking a lot of sedatives.”

  Antti glanced at me, irritated. Our conversation had been interrupted, and now I was diving into a criminal investigation that he under no circumstances wanted me getting involved in. I watched as he emptied his glass. Antti usually didn’t drink too much, especially not in the middle of the week and when the children could see. This seemed to be some kind of juvenile protest against me.

  “According to the widow, Pentti Vainikainen didn’t have any enemies. She knew about the death threats Särkikoski has been getting and said that Hillevi Litmanen is inept enough that she easily could have mixed drain cleaner with the sandwich filling. The gluten-free sandwiches had either garlic mayonnaise or parsley butter, both made by Litmanen. Wait . . . that moron just forgot to signal, and I almost rear-ended him!”

  Iida walked out of her room to show us her math test. She’d inherited her math skills from her father. I told Koivu about his goddaughter’s excellent grade, and he asked to speak to her. Antti continued staring at me as he started in on his third glass of red wine. Then he stood up and went to play the piano, taking his glass with him. The angry perfect fourths and fifths that began to thunder from the other room must have been a Bartok composition.

  After a thorough reporting of her synchronized-skating practice, Iida gave the phone back to me. Koivu had made it home, and he asked me to hold on so that he could take his phone out of its car mount. I heard the car door slam, then Koivu greeting a neighbor, then the sound of a soccer ball bouncing on asphalt.

  “This whole thing stinks, and I’d definitely start with the assumption that the poison wasn’t meant for Vainikainen. Oh yeah, and the wife said he’d been complaining of chest pains recently, but she hadn’t been able to get him to go to the doctor even by threatening to cut off sex. She must have been pretty upset to tell me something like that. And now I’m exhausted. I’ll see you in the morning.” Koivu’s shoes banged on the stairs, and the sound of a door opening echoed in my ears as he hung up.

  I cleared the dinner table, and Venjamin came to head-butt my shins. I tossed him a couple of pieces of bacon that had stuck to the bottom of the pot. The cat didn’t know what profession I practiced to get his daily food, but he knew how to protest if I was away from home too much. Once the cat had eaten, I picked him up before going to see whether Taneli needed a reminder to do his homework. Then the phone rang again, and the cat leaped out of my arms. It was Jutta, so I answered.

  “I’m sorry for bothering you so late. He called me again . . . the same voice. He said that unfortunately Pentti Vainikainen had been too greedy but that he’d make sure there were no mistakes next time. Then it would be my turn to die
.”

  5

  As was often the case, I woke up five minutes before my alarm went off. At first, I didn’t remember what had happened the previous day and cheerfully scratched Venjamin, who’d started head-butting me when he noticed I was awake. Then reality hit me like two million volts of electricity. I’d been ordered to investigate a homicide that apparently had claimed the wrong victim. And the perpetrator was still threatening his intended victim, Jutta Särkikoski.

  I felt like curling up at the foot of the bed between Venjamin and Antti. I tested my forehead, but unfortunately I didn’t have a fever. Just to be sure, I checked Antti’s body temperature too, but it was the same as mine. Yawning, Antti got up to make the coffee and oatmeal, while I went to wake up the children. They were healthy too, and Taneli was downright boisterous. Iida, on the other hand, was practicing her best teenage morning sulk. Antti and I only talked when we had to.

  As I rode my bike the half mile to the police station, one military march after another played in my head, even though I wasn’t on my way to war. Still, the fatherland was calling. All rest, all peace, away! Begone! went the “March of the Pori Regiment.” Men didn’t have to serve in the army anymore to get into the police academy. In theory, guys who opted for civil service instead were allowed in, along with the women. My dead colleague Pertti Ström was probably rolling over in his grave, and I knew plenty of other old cops who had choked on their coffee when they heard about the new law.

  I was at the station at fifteen minutes to nine. The parking lot was overflowing, so I had to weave my way through the cars. A light rain was coming down, and my hair was damp and curly, so I put it up in a ponytail before I went through the all-too-familiar door.

  Taskinen’s office was located on the top floor. Because I didn’t have a security card yet, I had to wait for him to fetch me. The duty officer was new, a young African Finnish woman who had a lot of jangly bracelets. The passport desk was busy, and I waved to a couple of familiar officers whose attention I managed to catch through the mass of people.