Nothing but the Truth (11 page)

“I had a nice time on Friday,” she said, still smiling.

“Me too.” Suhonen was about to complain about having had to leave, but that would leave an open question as to why, which he didn’t care to answer. He sidestepped. “You make it home all right?”

“Yeah. No problem.”

Suhonen tasted his coffee, clearly better than the station’s. Or maybe it was her. She took a sip from her own cup, and he wondered if she found it better than the insurance company’s. She must—office coffee was pretty much all the same, somehow tied to the workplace.

But so was Suhonen’s life. There he sat, at a table with a radiant woman, and all he could think about was how to avoid talk of his job.

“You know,” she said. “You’re a pretty mysterious guy. I’ve been wondering all weekend about what it is you do.”

Well, here we go, thought Suhonen. He didn’t want to lie. “I’m a cop.”

“Really? I thought so, but I wasn’t sure.” Her whole face was lit up now. “Were you working then on Friday? All you had was two beers all night.”

“Not then, but I was over the weekend. Not smart to get hammered before a shift.” A little white lie was okay, he thought.

“What kind of cop?”

“I catch bad guys,” he said, grinning over the rim of his cup. In a way, it wasn’t so bad that his job had come up, though talking about police work was always a double-edged sword. Some women were repelled by it, some attracted to it.

“Violent Crimes Unit?”

“Yep.”

“You don’t look like the kind of cops you see

on TV.”

“That’s why they don’t let me on camera.”

Suhonen’s phone rang, and he glanced at Raija. She urged him to answer. Not that his glance was anything more than a gesture, since he would’ve taken the call in any case. The caller was Salmela.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Right… Well, no… It can’t wait? Alright. I’ll be there.” He hung up the phone.

“Work?” she asked.

Suhonen nodded. “Yup.”

“Urgent?”

“As always. But listen, I wondered if you might like to go to the theater sometime. A friend of mine has a part at the Ryhmä Theater and says they have some good stuff going right now.”

“When?”

“When would work for you?”

“Whenever.”

“There’s a show on Thursday. We could go out for a beer afterwards, and maybe some pizza beforehand or something,” Suhonen said, sort of hesitating.

“Sure. That sounds good.”

“Good. I’ll get the tickets and give you a call.”

“You gotta go?”

Suhonen nodded. “But I’ll see you on Thursday.”

“Mmm-hm,” she said, taking a sip of coffee as Suhonen got up. She looked down at her watch and shook her head.

* * *

Two guards brought Korpi into the same interrogation room where Joutsamo had interviewed him the previous day. One of them was waiting in the room when Takamäki stepped in. He gave Takamäki an inquiring look, wondering if he should leave, but Takamäki signaled for him to stay.

“Hello,” said Takamäki.

“Pig,” Korpi snorted.

“Takamäki, rather. I’m the head investigator on your case.”

“I ain’t saying nothin’.”

“That so? Well, let me brief you anyway… You’re being held on suspicion of the murder of Tomi Salmela.”

Korpi narrowed his eyes. “On what fucking grounds?”

“I thought you weren’t gonna say anything. I’d think you’d know by now that all we need to detain you is reasonable suspicion. Your lawyer’s waiting out in the hall. I’ll let him in.”

Korpi sat sulking behind the table. Takamäki stood and signaled for the guard to open the door. On his way out, he passed Korpi’s defense attorney, Mats Martin. The tall, thin man was nearing fifty and had on a gray tailored suit with a well-chosen navy blue tie and crisp white shirt. His hair was blond and his skin still bore a hint of summer bronze.

Takamäki nodded as he exited.

“Just knock on the door when you’re ready,” the guard told Martin as he shut the door.

Martin set his briefcase on the wooden table and sat down. He looked Korpi sharply in the eyes. “Haven’t seen you for a while.”

“Guess not.”

“What’s this about?”

“Just found out they’re trying to pin me with a murder. Which I didn’t commit.”

“What have you told the police?”

“Nothing.”

Martin opened his briefcase and took out a notepad. “Well, you know me well enough to know my first question.”

Korpi nodded.

Martin continued, “No use playing games. That just wastes everybody’s time. I want you to answer honestly so I can build your defense. And let me be clear: I won’t ask this question again, because if I find out you’re lying, I’ll drop the case.” Martin’s eyes met Korpi’s. “Did you do it?”

“No.”

“Did you have any role in it?”

“No.”

“And that’s the truth?”

A seasoned attorney, Martin had developed his own style. It didn’t bother him if a killer got off the hook, but he himself had to get the suspect’s honest account of what happened.

“This is important. I want the truth. Because if you lie, it’ll backfire on you later, and then I won’t be able to help you.”

“That’s the truth.”

Martin nodded. “Okay. So in principle, there’s nothing to worry about. All we need to do is find out what they have on you.”

“Nothing,” Korpi snorted.

“With all due respect, cut the bullshit,” said Martin. “Get real. These cops are hardened pros, just like you. Sure, they want you in prison, but they know damn well it’s not gonna happen without clear and convincing evidence. The fact that you’re in custody means they have something on you, but they’re not gonna let us in on it because that could mess up their case. Our number one priority is to figure out what that something is, and the only person who would know is you.”

“I told you, I don’t know.”

Korpi had always known what a hardnose Martin was. Still, he didn’t much like his pushy style, even if the guy might have a point from time to time.

“Well, I’ll tell you what the police just told me. On Sunday, one Tomi Salmela was shot in his home and the police suspect that Nyberg shot him. Nyberg has his own counsel, but I haven’t consulted with her—yet. So tell me what happened after the arrest.”

“Not much. They gave me a grilling yesterday and put me in a lineup this morning.”

“Which tells us they probably have an eyewitness. Maybe you and Nyberg were seen together somewhere,” said Martin, and he searched his memory for past murder cases involving accomplices.

“Maybe. So what?”

“With your record, the fact that you know the shooter is sufficient grounds for arrest.”

“I had no idea Nyberg…”

Martin didn’t let him finish. “That doesn’t interest me. You already told me you had nothing to do with the shooting.”

“Fuck. The car Nyberg’s been driving was there in front of the house in Kaarela. If I had anything to do with that junkie’s murder, that car would have been toast in about two seconds. And why the fuck would I be driving someone around on hit jobs? Goddamnit!” Korpi slammed his fist down on the table.

The lawyer looked Korpi smartly in the eyes, “So were you in that car with him on Porvoo Street?”

“No.”

“Are you lying?”

“No.”

“Well, then you have two choices. Either you tell that to the cops now, or to the court later.”

“I ain’t telling the pigs a damn thing, that’s

for sure.”

“Then it’ll have to come up in court. But this lineup means someone thought they saw you, though we still don’t know if they actually picked you. If you weren’t there, then nobody could have recognized you anyway.”

Korpi kept his eyes locked on Martin’s. “So who supposedly saw me?”

“I don’t have that information, but it’ll come out in due time, once we get the case files.”

“The son-of-a-bitch will never make it to court.”

“Now there’s a stupid idea. Again, we don’t really know what the lineup was about, and if something happened to the witness before your court date you’d definitely take the fall for it. The cops will figure out a way to pin it on you for sure.

“I always like to be honest with my clients. Nyberg is a member of your outfit, so if he gets convicted for murder, your odds are about fifty-fifty of taking the rap too. The police will bust their asses on this case, but if you say you’re innocent, we have a good chance at winning an acquittal, eyewitness

or not.”

“So you’re saying leave the witness alone.”

“Absolutely,” said Martin. “Eyewitness accounts are pretty easy to poke holes in once we’re in the courtroom.”

CHAPTER 10

TUESDAY, 2:10 P.M.

KULOSAARI HARBOR

Salmela tossed Suhonen a red life vest from the bottom of a small fishing boat.

“Put it on.”

“Fishing?” said Suhonen, eyeing the rack of rods on the gunwale. The sixteen-foot aluminum boat was docked just off the East Highway. The rain had stopped, but the clouds still lingered.

“Why, you busy?”

Suhonen considered briefly. “No, not really,” he said. At least not anymore, since he’d already ditched Raija at the coffee shop.

“We’ll just troll around for a few hours.”

Only now did Suhonen notice that the rods were stouter than the usual ones. He stripped off his leather jacket and proceeded to pull on some coveralls. Salmela was fastening what appeared to be a fish finder and GPS unit to the rear side of the windshield, just adjacent to the wheel.

“Whose boat?”

“A friend’s,” said Salmela. “Borrowed it for

the day.”

Suhonen got his coveralls on and glanced over at a nearby concession stand. “What about something

to eat…”

“No need. I got coffee and a few sandwiches.”

Suhonen climbed into the boat and looked at the rods. “Deep sea fishing, or what?”

“Yup. The big boys—salmon, maybe.”

“What’s the weather gonna be like?”

“Nothing to worry about.” Salmela started the forty-horse outboard. “Not blowing too much. Untie the rope, will ya?”

Suhonen did so and Salmela backed the boat away from the dock, swung it around and headed out.

“I don’t have a license,” said Suhonen.

Once outside of the harbor buoys, Salmela opened the throttle and the wind bit against Suhonen’s face. “Doesn’t matter. Neither do I.”

“You know some good spots?”

“Nah, but the GPS does. My buddy saved the coordinates for some nice underwater gullies. The fish like to hang along the rim where the cool water rises up. The gullies are tough to find, and there’s still no guarantees.”

“That’s for sure.”

“Could be the water’s still too warm. Hey, grab some coffee if you want.”

Suhonen nodded and rustled a thermos out of Salmela’s rucksack. He filled the cup only halfway because of the pitching of the boat.

Within half an hour, Salmela had managed to pilot the boat to the outer islands west of Helsinki. She was planing smoothly now in the shallow chop. On a few occasions, the boat hit the swells at just the right angle to shower Suhonen with water. It felt good. He had never been an avid boater. Cars and motorcycles were more his style. But this wasn’t so bad.

The GPS unit beeped, signaling that they had arrived at the first spot. Salmela eased up on the throttle to a couple of knots and switched on the fish finder. Suhonen watched as Salmela dug a planer board out from beneath a bench, tossed it into the water and rigged it to the boat with some plastic line.

“We’ll rig the line to the leader on the planer with these clips…” Salmela muttered as Suhonen looked on. The idea was for the planer board to keep the lines far enough apart that they wouldn’t get tangled as they trolled along. “You take the wheel. Just hold the course.”

Salmela took the first rod and dropped the lure into the water. It fluttered along easily next to the boat. He let out the line about fifty feet, made a small loop and clamped it with a spring-loaded clip that had a ring for the planer leader. Salmela let out the line till the ring reached almost to the planer, then he propped the rod up in the holder.

Within five minutes, all four lines were in the water. “Once you get a hit, the fish will jerk the clip off the line and you just reel him in. That’s it. You take the first hit, I’ll take the next. Just remember to brace yourself when you take the rod out of the holder.”

Suhonen began to suspect that this wasn’t a friend’s boat after all. Salmela seemed to know his way around it well enough. Or maybe he had more than borrowed it.