After the initial formalities the conversation had dried up and the men ate in silence. Järvi greedily shovelled watery mashed potatoes into his mouth. Kontio occasionally watched him out of the corner of his eye and felt very pleased with himself, pleased that he’d finally taken the bull by the horns. It had required a fair amount of effort on his part, but now he didn’t regret it in the least. He was pleased too that he’d chosen the perfect venue almost intuitively.
They were in a run-of-the-mill lunch spot on Mäkelänkatu, the kind of place that smells of stale lager and cold cigarette ash. The place brought back fond memories for Kontio. It reminded him of the time when he still had the strength to fight his way up tooth and nail, relentlessly, and he’d been right: Järvi had clearly felt the same, he’d ordered bangers and mash without a moment’s hesitation – perhaps it had been a relief not to have to sit at the table wondering what words like Chateaubriand actually meant – and now he was eating contentedly, probably reminiscing about the time when they were true partners.
Kontio knew perfectly well why Järvi had accepted his invitation: he had heard from a source very high up that Special Branch was also on the Criminal Police’s list of units to be discontinued. It was
understandable
: Special Branch had originally been tailor-made for Järvi by separating various specialised groups from their own departments to create an office that needed a DCI to run it. Järvi had kept personal tabs on all the vacancies under his authority; he if anyone knew how to pull the right strings.
But now it was of no help to him. The need for results had
bulldozered
its way over any string-pulling, and Järvi had heard the rumours that were going around – one of Kontio’s ‘eyes-and-ears’ had confirmed it to him that morning – though understandably he was careful not to let anything slip, because nothing had yet been made official. But something was gnawing away at him, Kontio could see it clearly, he knew the symptoms all too well from his own recent experiences: Järvi had come to the chilling realisation that he was nothing, that for all his stripes and medals and chairmanships he was such a mediocre man that he wasn’t even going to be replaced when he retired and that his office was no longer needed.
Kontio knew what it felt like and he knew the kind of loneliness that crept into a man’s mind, the desperation, the distrust of everyone else, then there was the need to find an ally, someone who understood – and who better to fill that position than someone who had been through it all before?
But Kontio wasn’t feeding Järvi with sympathy. He knew from bitter experience that things he had once taken for granted could be lost in a heartbeat, and he didn’t want to lose Vaarala’s friendship at any cost; he didn’t want to lose his position as a security consultant; he didn’t want to lose the thought that, even once he retired, he would still be
somebody
.
He’d spent a sleepless night because of this. He felt he couldn’t trust Harjunpää alone in the matter, and that had awoken a feeling of annoyance, a mixture of disappointment and fear that, for all his insignificance, Harjunpää might pose him a significant threat. On top of that, his
annoyance
had grown once he’d realised that, ultimately, all he wanted to do was break somebody because he himself had been broken. But by morning he’d had confirmation of quite how dire a state Järvi’s affairs were in, and this had calmed him down. A back-up plan had begun forming in his mind.
‘I don’t know,’ Kontio sighed, pushed his plate to one side and drained his glass of soured milk. ‘I’ll tell you, the decision to close down the department fair took away my fighting spirit. It makes you think, is this the way they repay you for years of slogging away? But now that I’ve got over it… you realise it’s just other people’s greed, their thirst for power.’
Järvi gave him a quick look; apparently, for the first time, he’d thought the very same thing.
‘And to be perfectly honest, I feel as though I want to show them what’s what just one more time.’
‘I reckon the Criminal Police have seen all they want to see,’ Järvi replied and forgot that he wasn’t yet supposed to sound so bitter.
‘Tanttu is a waste of space… He’s given in to all the chief
commander’s
demands without saying a word. And these demands haven’t even come directly from the chief; it’s Hongisto that’s behind it, he’s the one really running things. Talk about a bloody Napoleon complex.’
‘When our units are shut down and officers are being reassigned to the Public Order Police, they end up working under Hongisto. His power increases with every move. I’ve heard rumours that he’s asked for even more units to be closed…’
‘And what do you want out of all this?’
They looked at each other silently. Each of them knew that this was a game and that they both had their reasons for playing it. Kontio hauled his chair closer to the table, glanced around and almost leaned over Järvi’s plate.
‘To be honest, I’d really like to teach Hongisto a little lesson.’
‘He’s set himself up for a fall pretty nicely.’
‘You hear a thing or two down at the ministry…’
‘Such as?’
‘But I can’t do this by myself. I haven’t got enough men.’
‘A full-blown operation, then?’
‘They’ve been planning it out at the ministry and the regional council, and Hongisto is supposed to spearhead the whole thing. The mayor
apparently
said that medals will be awarded on Independence Day…’
Kontio had guessed this would work; Järvi was now looking at him far more intently. Järvi was filled with a burning desire to be recognised, to be in the public eye. These two desires often coexisted in awkward conflict in the line of duty. Particularly when it came to security
arrangements
, he was over the moon at being able to run things from the background, but couldn’t resist the temptation to rush in front of the cameras so that the whole world could see him babbling into his
walkie-talkie
: ‘Seagull One to Eagle Two. Do you copy?’
‘So what’s this project then?’
‘It sounds like small fry, but it isn’t. It’s to do with graffiti.’
‘What?’
‘You know, daubs on walls and that sort of thing.’
‘Right?’
‘There’s been a thorough, region-wide investigation into these daubs, concentrating primarily on the Helsinki area. Get this, in the city alone getting rid of graffiti costs the council over five million marks a year…’
‘Hell of a sum…’
‘And apparently that’s not even near the correct figure. What’s more, most of the spray paints are stolen, so retailers are making a loss too.’
‘OK.’
‘At the end of the day it’s a fairly small group of people behind this. Catching them will raise the profile of the city council – and of the police force in the eyes of the general public. Of course, with Hongisto’s resources there’ll be nothing to it…’
Järvi picked up a toothpick, carefully unwrapped it and starting sucking it thoughtfully; a fly appeared and started feeding at the sauce left on Järvi’s plate.
‘My field officers could take care of it no problem,’ he said finally as though he could have come up with the idea himself. ‘They could keep an eye on the shops and see who’s taking the stuff. And if I could temporarily have the use of a couple of dozen extra officers, all it’ll take is a few nights’ concentrated effort.’
‘Precisely. And you’d be able to demonstrate that Special Branch will always be Special Branch and Hongisto won’t get yet another feather in his cap,’ Kontio began enthusing, but then his face turned serious and he rested his hands limply on the table. ‘But I don’t know if it’ll work. Your men are tied up with God knows how many other cases. I heard someone in the canteen saying they’ve got some DS from Violent Crimes ordering them about.’
‘You mean Harjunpää? Lampinen and Juslin are helping him out. It’s the same case we talked about in the board meeting recently.’
‘The one Kuusimäki contacted me about? Well, if Harjunpää cracks that one he’ll be getting accolades from much higher up.’
‘I’m the one that got things moving with that case. Without me it would be buried in a file somewhere.’
‘That’s how it goes – other people swipe the medals from under your nose.’
‘And skim the cream from the cake,’ said Järvi as though he knew what thread the other was tugging and wanted to tug it back. ‘They say Onerva Nykänen’s fair rolling in money. She knits sweaters while she’s on
duty and makes tens of thousands of marks every month selling them… Anyway, thanks, I’d better be off again.’
The men stood up and more flies appeared. They were in for a banquet with the treats to be found on Kontio’s plate too.
‘We could call it Operation Spray,’ said Järvi once they were outside. ‘It’s businesslike, gives you a clue as to what it’s all about but doesn’t give anything away.’
‘True. If you bring it up in a board meeting I’ll second it. We can argue it’s to do with shoplifting. But we need to be quick about it so Hongisto hasn’t got a chance to present the motion somewhere higher up… So Onerva Nykänen’s made a mint, has she?’
‘So they say. Well, she says it’s not as if she’s bringing money in by the wheelbarrow… Some shops downtown sell her jumpers. Apparently a trial batch sold out in a couple of weeks in Stockholm.’
‘And I’ll bet she hasn’t got a secondary occupation licence for it.’
‘Apparently not. Bangers and mash, eh? You can’t beat plain nosh.’
‘Nope, especially with lots of ketchup.’
‘But you’re not even sure about it. You can’t just keep an eye on other people. And what’s this Reino Leinonen got to do with the case anyway?’
‘Bloody hell, nothing. I never said he was involved. In any case we’re not officially tailing him. That bloke’s got at least four deposit-box jobs to his name, but he’s only done time for one of them. Straight up, I go round there every so often just to remind him what mortality really is. God it feels good thinking about him fretting afterwards, but more importantly he won’t have the guts to get up to his old tricks for a while. It’s called preventive action. Look it up in the dictionary.’
‘So what about Nikander?’
‘Did you get any prints from the Dagmarinkatu flat?’
‘No, not complete ones, only a couple of smudged partials. Thurman said he thinks our man’s work must involve something that causes a mechanical strain on his fingers; it’s as though his fingers are coated in some kind of gunk that’s blocking up the ridges.’
‘Right, now there’s another thing that brings us back to Nikander. You take a look at his prints in the database. They’re so faint we had trouble classifying them. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried it, but Nikander’s the only one who almost succeeded. Nobody knows how he does it. I’ve heard people say he either sands them down or rubs his hands with something that removes any grease and stops him sweating.’
‘What else fits the description?’
‘Everything, for crying out loud. Compare that sketch to his mugshot.’
Lampinen took a photograph from his jacket pocket and placed it on the table in front of Harjunpää. There was already quite a collection of photographs on the table, each showing a gaunt or otherwise bird-like man from numerous different angles. Next to them was the facial composite drawn up by Forensics on the basis of Juha Backman’s
description
. Harjunpää squinted at them and compared them. Lampinen was partly right: there was something about Nikander’s chin and nose that matched the composite.
‘What can I say… But the witness didn’t pick out Nikander from any of the photographs. What’s more, Nikander is chubby, and everybody who’s seen this guy – including Juha Backman – has described him as thin. On top of that they’ve said his hair was thick and messy, but Nikander’s bald.’
‘Right, but bear in mind what kind of state the witnesses were in when they saw him. You remember the Moisio case? Every description said he was stout and podgy but that’s because he was always wearing that damn bomber jacket and all the time he was skinny as a rake.’
‘This bloke’s been seen naked.’
‘Nikander boasts that he can do as he pleases with women,’ Juslin joined in. ‘That he can have as many as he wants.’
‘Well, that could mean anything.’
‘He treats Hotel Inter as his headquarters,’ said Lampinen. ‘And you said yourself that over half of these women had been there on the night in question.’
‘Nikander’s got a soft spot for blondes, and of all these women we’ve only got five dark-haired ones and one redhead.’
‘And nobody picks a lock better than him. In ten minutes he can open a lock that it would take our boys half an hour to crack. And that’s exactly the area he hangs around.’
‘And he’s a total pervert, believe you me,’ Juslin sneered and agitatedly rested his leg on his knee. ‘Last year we were searching his house and we found at least a billion porn mags and a rubber twat. Fucking sick… hair and everything… And when we switched it on, it vibrated so much I almost dropped the thing. Yours isn’t like that, is it, Onerva?’
Onerva looked out of the window. Harjunpää leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands behind his neck. He didn’t like the situation or the tone of the conversation, but he had a strange feeling that he, too, was
spoiling for a fight. Perhaps it was because Lampinen and Juslin had abruptly dismissed the plan they’d devised for that evening.
‘It seems to me as though you don’t want this guy caught,’ said Lampinen. ‘Too much of a dent to your pride if
we
solve this case?’
‘Now listen… your pride… I do this because I’ve got five mouths to feed. Six.’
‘Or does it bug you that this came through Järvi? That this is an important case for him?’
‘And just why
is
this so important to him?’ asked Onerva. Harjunpää recognised her tone of voice and prayed that someone would change the subject soon.
‘Well…’
‘Because DCI Järvi’s had a little phone call from the Right Honourable Kuusimäki, that’s why,’ Onerva answered for herself. ‘And he wants to be able to call him back, stand to attention and say “Minister, after much hard work, the officers in my team have succeeded in blah blah blah…” It makes me sick. Is he so desperate to have a Member of Parliament come to his retirement do? Don’t you get it? One of this intruder’s victims has died. And the one we had in here this morning was on the verge of a breakdown. Yes, I want him caught. I want him caught for all those women – but not for Järvi. And I want to catch the real intruder, not Klaus Nikander just because you’ve got a grudge against him.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Nykänen… What grudge? And that attitude of yours… You feminists ought to learn that no amount of burning your bras has ever solved these cases in the past and it won’t solve this one…’
Onerva threw her head backwards in an exaggerated laugh then walked right up to Lampinen.
‘Do you know? A funny thing happened to me this morning. No, I bet you don’t… Tanttu asked me to report to him this morning and he told me I needed to apply for a secondary occupation licence to sell my jumpers. Oh, and he said I probably wouldn’t be granted one, because I couldn’t possibly be considered impartial enough to investigate potential cases involving the retailers in question or the people who purchase my stuff. Funny, eh? We only talked about it yesterday.’
‘Oh piss off, Nykänen! There’s no point blaming me, you’re the one that’s screwed up… Come on, Juslin. And stay away from Hotel Inter, got it?’
The two men stood up, their chairs rattling, but Harjunpää raised his hand.
‘Lampinen. We are going to Inter.’
‘No, you’re not! You’ll ruin everything. Tell them, Juslin.’
‘We’re going to set him up. Heiskanen’s got a flat on Humalistonkatu and that’s our base. Forensics is rigging the place up with infrared cameras as we speak. Susanna from Fraud is going to be our bait. She’s got long blonde hair. She’s going to stumble back from Inter pretending to be drunk and making sure Nikander sees her. And guess what’ll happen later on when he starts groping her? Guess who’s going to jump out of the wardrobe and catch him red-handed?’
‘Why the hell didn’t you tell us?’
‘We agreed to maintain two parallel lines of approach. If you go down there asking around with your photographs and composites he’ll smell you a mile away.’
‘OK,’ said Harjunpää slowly, rather hurt. He felt as though he’d been tricked, and on top of that the whole set-up was perverse: they’d never have ended up in this kind of stalemate with other officers from Violent Crimes.
‘Let’s maintain two lines, but we’re going to maintain ours too. We’ll leave Inter for tonight and concentrate on Lehtovaara. And if you don’t get him tonight, then we’ll go to Inter tomorrow night.’
‘No, you won’t. We’re going to see this through however long it takes.’
‘And who was it was worried that someone else might catch him?’
Lampinen marched into the corridor without another word but Juslin lingered in the office. He stopped behind Onerva, placed his hand on her buttocks and whispered: ‘My God, you’re sexy when you get angry.’
‘Hands off, eunuch!’ she snapped and Juslin removed his hand and disappeared after Lampinen.
‘Oh God,’ she almost moaned. ‘I just can’t stop thinking about Pirjo. If only I’d tried talking to her a bit more… And now this whole thing with the secondary occupation licence – as if you can’t get through life without a licence.’
‘I know…’
‘And Juslin… Why can’t I keep my big mouth shut?’
‘I’m sure it did him the world of good.’
‘No, he used to work in a joiner’s yard. A cog must have come loose; I bet he’s still got a piece of something stuck in his head…’