Puustjärvi pulled himself onto land. As I clumsily descended the chain-link fence to the shore, he started stripping off his soaked clothing.
“I didn’t think he was dangerous,” Puustjärvi said angrily. “He said he was looking for the gate key and then he pushed me in.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll get him,” I said.
Once we got back to the car, I pulled a blanket and an extra pair of overalls out of the trunk. “Based on how quickly that happened, I’d say he was planning it.”
Puustjärvi went home to warm up while I stood shivering on the dark shoreline, trying to call the Leanda. Soon I heard a crackling sound—the water was freezing for the first time this fall. The stars shone just as icily above the black water. A police boat arrived within fifteen minutes, and I jumped aboard and grabbed a life jacket. We sped off and once the lights on the mainland were behind us, it was as wickedly dark as a late-October night can be. What little was visible of the moon barely illuminated the boat.
Coast Guard vessels had been called in from the east and the west to join the search, as well as a rescue helicopter and three of our own department boats. The Leanda’s motor was weak enough that Mikke didn’t have any chance of escaping, even though he had a bit of a head start and the darkness was on his side. I spoke with the Coast Guard, reviewing the Leanda’s description and trying to predict Mikke’s plan.
“I think he’ll head out to sea. He knows the archipelago extremely well, but in a sailboat it isn’t as easy to weave between the islands as it is in a motorboat.”
“Sjöberg was arrested on suspicion of murder. Is he a danger to others?”
“Doubtful. He’s most dangerous to himself, and that’s why this is so urgent,” I said.
“Ah. What kind of stove does Sjöberg have onboard?”
I groaned. “Gas,” I said just as I heard the sound of the helicopter over us. Spotlights combed the water but found nothing. A Coast Guard speedboat pulled up to us and reported that a ship matching the Leanda’s description had been spotted east of the last large island before the water opened up. Mikke was headed straight south.
We changed course to go more eastward, and the thumping helicopter sound increased—now there were two of them. The spotlights seized us for a second before the second helicopter continued southeast. The Rödskär lighthouse glimmered dimly on the horizon. After a few miles, I saw the helicopter pause in the air, and a moment later we received word that they had found the Leanda and Mikke Sjöberg. We sped up as another police boat approached from the north, and in ten minutes the Leanda was surrounded. In the glare of the searchlights I could make out a figure on deck.
“Another patrol is asking whether he has a gun,” the radio operator said.
“Not to my knowledge. Are they going to board? Tell them to take it easy.”
The boats approached the Leanda, slowly tightening the noose, and the helicopters were called off. Someone on the boat next to us, Espoo PD 3, raised a megaphone.
“Sjöberg, we’re coming to pick you up. Put your hands in the air while we anchor next to you.”
Mikke only raised one hand, and in it was a gas can. Slowly he poured the gasoline across the deck while he yelled over the idling boat motors.
“If you come any closer, I’ll blow up the boat! The propane stove bottle is open.”
“Give me the binoculars,” I said to the radio operator, even though I was shivering so badly that it was hard to focus the lenses. Mikke stood on the deck with a watch cap pulled down to his eyebrows. I saw thick streaks of fuel on the dark, glossy wood of the deck, and I saw Mikke’s face twisted in pain. In his other hand he had a lighter, and he flinched as Espoo PD 3 started moving. I almost screamed “No!” before I realized that the boat was coming over to us.
“Is Lieutenant Kallio here?” asked Senior Officer Raitio, the bearded boat patrol officer who was leading the operation. “Change boats and let’s talk,” he said and extended his hand. Jumping over to the deck of Espoo PD 3, I managed to make it look as if I’d never been on a boat before. I was stiff with cold, and my hands were barely functional. The cabin was wonderfully warm.
“Do you think Sjöberg is serious?” Raitio asked. He motioned for me to sit, but I was too anxious. I wanted to keep the Leanda in view through the cabin window.
“I think so. During his interrogation he said he had been contemplating suicide. Let me try to talk to him.”
Raitio handed me the megaphone, and I went back on deck. Espoo PD 2 had moved up next to us, and to my surprise I saw Koivu’s face. I waved, and he waved back.
I held the binoculars to my eyes as I raised the megaphone to my mouth. “Mikke!” My voice sounded strange traveling over the water. “This is Maria. Come off the Leanda!”
Mikke slowly shook his head.
“You have a phone with you, don’t you?”
This time his answer was a nod.
“Get it from the cabin and we can talk.”
Mikke stood perfectly still for a second and then he set the gas can down and moved to the cabin. I put down the megaphone and pulled out my own phone. When I saw Mikke come back out on deck, I dialed his number. Moving to the bow, I cupped my hand to cover my lips. I carefully sat down on the deck, and it felt like ice under my ass. After four calls, Mikke finally answered.
“I asked you to let me go.”
“That’s no good, and you know it. Listen to me. You’re probably only going to be charged with involuntary manslaughter because you were defending yourself. Your sentence will be light, and you won’t even serve the whole thing because this is your first offense. You have the money to hire a good defense attorney. You aren’t going to spend your whole life in jail.”
“But I will carry the knowledge that I killed my brother for the rest of my life.”
“It was self-defense. Juha could just as easily have killed you.”
For a moment Mikke was silent, and I watched him slump down on a bench near the helm.
“Have you ever killed someone? Because of your work, I mean?” he asked, his voice hoarse.
“No, but I almost did once. I shot someone, but I was only aiming at his gun hand.”
“What happened?”
“He fell and ended up losing an eye, but he lived.”
“Was it self-defense?”
“Him or me. If I had to, I’d do it again.”
“And what if he had died? Would you be able to live without guilt?”
“No, but I would have been able to go on living. And you will too. You have to forgive yourself. The sea will be waiting for you.”
I spoke in the same soothing tone I used with Iida when she woke up in the middle of the night with a nightmare. Maybe it wouldn’t work without the caresses, though. Maybe I should go over to the Leanda. Telling Mikke to stay on the line, I pressed the Mute button on my own phone and walked into the cabin, where Koivu had appeared.
“Should we send someone over to the Leanda?” I asked Raitio.
“Too dangerous.”
“You are not going!” Koivu and Raitio both yelled at the same time, and when Koivu grabbed my arm, I knew I wouldn’t have gone even if I had been ordered to. My days of recklessly endangering my life were done. And it wasn’t just because of how much I loved Iida and Antti. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live.
“I’ll keep him talking on the phone. We shouldn’t try storming the boat, though.” I turned to Koivu and said, “Try to reach his mother. She might be able to talk sense into him. I’ll see if I can get him to agree to let us come closer.”
When I went back outside, I saw Mikke was still hunched over on the same bench. Unmuting the phone, I told him we were planning to move closer. He responded by standing up and igniting his lighter.
“Let me go!” he shouted, sounding hopeless.
“We aren’t going to do that. Throw the lighter into the water,” I said as Espoo PD 3 inched closer. I could see my breath around the telephone, but I didn’t feel
the cold anymore.
“I can’t reach Mrs. Sjöberg,” Koivu hissed from the door. I realized it was only me between Mikke and death. And half an inch of flame could make all my attempts meaningless at any instant.
Espoo PD 3 moved about fifteen feet closer to the Leanda. In the harsh beams of the searchlights I could see the lines on Mikke’s face, and I could look him in the eye.
“We can send you a rubber raft. Throw the lighter in the water. You can still fix the damage to the deck. You’re going to be sailing on the Leanda for years to come.”
My voice was only a whisper now. Mikke could hear it through the phone, but his eyes were on mine.
“You want to make atonement. So suffer the punishment society imposes on you. Juha could have killed you, but you were the one who got to live. Don’t waste what you were given.”
Mikke’s eyes bored into me, and then he threw the phone in the water. He grabbed the gas can and tipped it. Then all I saw was an enormous flame.
I screamed as the flame shot into the sea and Mikke jumped after it. I moved, but I didn’t jump. The diver who had been standing at the ready threw off his blankets and was just about to enter the water when Mikke appeared on the surface.
“Mikke!” I shouted, and he started to swim toward our boat. I lowered the bow ladder into the water and climbed down far enough to help him, shivering, onto the deck. As I held him close, he trembled with cold and sobs, getting me wet too. Mikke’s body began shaking more violently, and it took a little while before I realized his crying had turned to laughter.
The searchlights went dark and the world around us turned black as the cold crept over us to freeze the land and the sea. Thankfully someone threw a blanket over us. I held Mikke until his hysterical laughter subsided, and then I let go and told him to go in the cabin and take off his wet clothes.
An officer from Espoo PD 2 went over to the Leanda to get Mikke something to wear. I managed to convince Raitio to tow the Leanda back to the marina. Espoo PD 1 took Koivu, me, and Mikke straight to the nearest dock, where a patrol car was waiting. When we all climbed in the back, Mikke was quiet and seemed calm. When I asked him if he wanted to see a doctor or a psychologist, he said no. But after a pause, he said almost shyly that he would like to call his mother.
“We can arrange that,” I said. In the police-station parking garage, I suggested that we call her from my office. Koivu glowered a little and asked if I needed him. When I said no, he announced he was staying anyway to finish up his report on the El Haj Assad case.
When we reached my office, I dialed Katrina’s number and handed the phone to Mikke. He calmly told her what had happened, and she promised to come on the morning flight.
After I hung up the phone, I didn’t know what to do. Sending Mikke to a jail cell didn’t feel right, but there wasn’t any other option. I asked again if he wanted to speak with anyone.
“I can’t talk now,” he said. “But could you just hold me for a while? Then I’ll go.”
I walked over to the couch where Mikke was, sat down next to him, and squeezed him tight. I could smell the stench of gasoline and the familiar scent of pipe tobacco underneath. His stubble tickled my cheek, and beneath my arms his back muscles were hard. After a few minutes, Mikke let go and looked me in the eye.
“This couldn’t have turned out any more messed up. How did you end up being the cop . . . ?”
I just snorted. It was best not to say anything. Mikke snorted back and said he was ready to go. I called the guard to get him.
“Will you come see me sometime?” he asked while we were waiting at the door.
“Yes, we’ll see each other. Probably tomorrow. If you want, you can come with me to tell Anne and the kids.”
When the guard arrived, I hugged Mikke one last time. Then I went back to my office. Fishing the bottle of Laphroaig out of my bag, I drank a coffee-mug full in one swig. I pulled out my compact and when I looked at myself in the mirror, I was surprised that my face was the same as before. I wasn’t completely broken—just a few small parts of me. The one that had liked Pertti Ström despite it all. And the part that had fallen for Mikke. In order to wrap up the investigation, I would have to see him several more times. I needed some way to get through that.
I took one more swig before leaving.
I knocked on Koivu’s door and opened it.
“Koivu!” My voice was already a little thick. “Hey, Koivu, take me home.”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Photo © 2011 Tomas Whitehouse
Finland’s bestselling female crime author, Leena Lehtolainen first rose to fame with her series starring feisty detective Maria Kallio. She won the Finnish Whodunnit Society’s annual prize for the best Finnish crime novel twice and was nominated for the prestigious Glass Key Award for the best Nordic crime novel. Her books have been translated into twenty-nine languages and have sold over two million copies. Lehtolainen currently lives in Finland with her husband and two sons.
ABOUT THE TRANSLATOR
Photo © 2015 Owen Witesman
Owen F. Witesman is a professional literary translator with a master’s in Finnish and Estonian area studies from Indiana University. He has translated more than thirty Finnish books into English, including novels, children’s books, poetry, plays, graphic novels, and nonfiction. His recent translations include the novels My First Murder, Her Enemy, Copper Heart, Snow Woman, and Death Spiral from the Maria Kallio series by Leena Lehtolainen; the novels in the Snow White trilogy by Salla Simukka; the satire The Human Part by Kari Hotakainen; the thrillers Cold Courage and Black Noise by Pekka Hiltunen; Risto Isomäki’s eco-thriller Lithium-6; and the nonfiction opus The Mapmakers’ World by Marjo Nurminen. He currently resides in Springville, Utah, with his wife and three daughters, two dogs, a cat, and twenty-nine fruit trees.
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