The Defenceless (27 page)

THIS TIME THEY MET
in a park on the edge of the city centre, near the sea. Fog rose above the water like a thin, moist gauze. The gentle breeze carried in the smell of seaweed, fish and the recently tarred hulls of boats. It was early morning and the city hadn’t yet woken up. It was still yawning beneath the blankets in warm bedrooms; it pattered into the kitchen to switch on the coffee maker, its hair tangled from sleep, fetched the newspaper from the hallway mat, or rolled on its side and continued sleeping, content that it was a Sunday. To Esko’s surprise, his snitch had contacted him and asked to meet him right away. Esko had glanced at his watch and saw it was just after seven o’clock. Last time he’d barely been able to keep an appointment at ten, he thought sullenly but agreed to meet up, as he could hear from the man’s voice that something was wrong.

‘I’m in trouble,’ he told Esko. No good morning, no how are you, no how’s work been going. These conversations didn’t need meaningless chit-chat, and that suited Esko fine.

‘Life’s a bitch, but it’s hardly surprising in your line of work.’

His informant coughed and lit a cigarette, offered one to Esko. He shook his head.

‘A guy saw us in that bar. I’m going to have to get out of town for a while.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘My brother-in-law owns a plumbing firm out in the sticks, far away from here. I’m going to work for him, at first just to earn my keep, then I can think about the future.’

‘Sounds good.’

‘I’ll be well off the gang’s radar.’

‘You can get anywhere quickly on a Harley Davidson.’

‘I never told no one I had a sister. They’ll never find me; they won’t even come after me.’

Is that so? thought Esko. Still, he felt content. This might be the man’s first and last chance to turn his life around. Esko hoped with all his heart that he could make it work out.

‘But that’s not all,’ he said.

‘Well?’

‘The Cobras are done and dusted. At least for now.’

‘Really?’

‘Yep. You brought in all the big players, and now Reza’s gone underground. The normal members, the kids on that estate, they can’t do nothing without Reza and the others. The whole operation dried up before it even got started.’

‘Good thing too,’ said Esko. Nothing in his voice, expression or body language betrayed the thrill of success flaring within him.

‘Right, I’ll be off then. Probably won’t be seeing you again.’

‘Hopefully not. Take care of yourself,’ said Esko.

They shook hands, and Esko gave his former snitch a friendly slap on the back. Then they parted company and went their separate ways. Esko noticed a silver-grey car waiting for the man at the edge of the park. A woman was leaning on the bonnet smoking a cigarette. That must be the sister.

Once the man had stepped inside and the car had disappeared from view, Esko leapt into the air like a young foal, ran a few steps and kicked a clump of ice, sending it flying in a magnificent arc through the air.

I’ll have to call Anna right away, he thought, and tell her she doesn’t need to worry about the Afghan poofters any more.

A seagull squawked nearby. It felt good to breathe in the sea air, moist from the fog. Nothing in his body hurt.

Bloody hell, I did it, he thought, and stopped to greet the sun slowly rising behind the curtain of mist.

Sammy was sitting in the interview room with Ritva Siponen. He was tired and hoped he would soon be able to go to court, receive his sentence and finally find peace. Over the past weeks his doses of Subutex had been gradually reduced; he’d had some withdrawal symptoms, but in the hands of that pretty nurse they’d felt almost bearable. Sammy was happy to be kicking the drugs one day at a time. Whatever happened, he would never touch them again. And yet the thought of this made him feel a strange sense of longing. The membranes in his mouth started throbbing, right by the saliva glands. Sammy knew it was an aching desire that would live within him for the rest of his life, something that would always try and tempt him, though he knew only too well the dangers of giving in. The drugs were both his friend and his worst enemy; addiction was a treacherous mistress who first seduced him with her charms only then to destroy him.

‘Sammy, it seems you’ve told us some very serious lies,’ said Anna.

‘What do you mean? I have not,’ he said, panicking.

‘Yes, you have. We now know that Marko Halttu killed himself. His girlfriend received a suicide note from him by text message. Marko’s life was in a terrible mess.’

Sammy thought carefully what to say.

‘Very well, I admit I didn’t kill him, but I killed the other one. You can’t prove I didn’t.’

‘I’m afraid we can. Vilho Karppinen’s blood contained a lethal dose of a particular medication. He was already dying when he arrived at Marko’s apartment.’

‘What? That can’t be true.’

‘It is true.’

Sammy’s face drained of all expression. He sat motionless, staring blankly at the wall. That’s that, he thought. There goes my final chance. I can kiss goodbye to a life now.

Ritva Siponen cleared her throat.

‘The authorities have processed our appeal, and I’m afraid it was unsuccessful. The fact that you have been mixed up with drugs while
here in Finland was a serious factor in their decision. Sammy, you’re being sent back to Pakistan.’

Sammy buried his face in the palms of his hands but didn’t make a sound. The first thing I’ll do is find some heroin, he thought, inject myself so full of the stuff that I won’t feel anything when they come for me, so that the drugs will kill me before they can do it. Let that be my final journey, he thought. And I’ll take that journey just like Macke did.

‘I’m so sorry,’ said Anna.

Sammy looked up at her. She always looks so sad, he thought, even though her life here is fine. Sammy felt the urge to comfort Anna, to take her by the hand and say something beautiful. But he couldn’t, and it would have felt strange. She was clearly trying to comfort him.

‘So am I,’ was all he could muster.

THE DAY BEGAN GREY
and overcast, though seemed to hint at warm weather to come. Heavy clouds rolled across the city, hiding the disc of the sun behind them, and the air was moist like just before rain. The roads were wet with rapidly melting snow; running water collected in underground tunnels, puddles dotted the surface of the pavements. Anna had wondered about this before: the chill of spring with the sun shining from the bright sky above, then the sudden rise in temperature, the southern winds bringing clouds and rain to the north, melting the snow far more efficiently than the sun. That spring the freezing temperatures had continued longer than usual. Anna didn’t mind the slush, because it meant that summer was on its way.

Juha Karppinen was sitting in the interview room at the police station wearing a suit and tie. Anna and Virkkunen scrutinised him for a moment before beginning the interview. Anna was looking for cracks in the man’s self-assured exterior, places to aim her line of attack. She’d noticed a flash of agitation in his eyes as he stepped into the room, but it had soon disappeared behind the arrogant grin that told them he thought the interview was an utter waste of time.

‘You are being interviewed in relation to the murders of your father, Vilho Karppinen, and his neighbour, Riitta Vehviläinen,’ Anna began. She sensed a nausea welling in her stomach and felt like vomiting. She’d had the same sensation earlier that morning and worried that she might be coming down with something, but the feeling had passed once she’d eaten two tubs of sour yoghurt. She took a sip of water from the glass on the table and hoped it would make her feel better.

‘We have a witness who saw you in the stairwell at your father’s house on the night he died, the twelfth of March,’ said Virkkunen.

Juha took a deep breath and sucked his lips.

‘Who? It’s not true,’ he said.

‘That’s for us to know,’ said Anna. ‘You told us earlier on that you were at the Kero skiing resort, a hundred kilometres away. However, the hotel staff cannot definitively verify your alibi. You were there, of course, but you could easily have driven into town on Wednesday evening without anyone noticing, murdered your father and Riitta Vehviläinen, and returned to the skiing resort as though nothing had happened.’

‘Indeed I could, but I didn’t. Why on earth would I do something so terrible?’

‘For your inheritance, of course.’

‘I don’t need an inheritance. I have a regular job and my finances are in order. Besides, my father’s estate wasn’t worth killing him for. It wasn’t that big.’

‘Unless you were up to your ears in gambling debts, then it would come in very handy. You gamble a lot, don’t you? Have done for some time.’

‘So what? It’s not illegal,’ he said quietly.

‘I think you’ve got a gambling problem.’

‘Of course I don’t. It’s just a bit of fun, a bachelor’s way of spending time. You dabble too,’ he said and gave her a smarmy smile. Virkkunen looked at Anna in bewilderment. Anna dismissed Juha’s jibe as though she hadn’t heard it and continued.

‘You gambled while you were married. According to your ex-wife that was the main reason for your divorce.’

‘That bitch will say anything to ruin my reputation. I didn’t play much at all, just a bit now and then. And that’s how it is today, too.’

‘Your creditors would disagree with that statement.’

Juha said nothing. That shut you up, thought Anna.

‘I’ve been looking into your finances, and I know of at least three
loan companies that have already sent you final demands. And we’re not talking about peanuts here.’

‘Those online companies are con artists. I’ve been meaning to make an official complaint about them.’

‘So why didn’t you?’

‘I haven’t got round to it. Something like that always takes a lot of time and effort.’

‘How much are you in debt?’

‘Not all that much.’

‘How much?’

‘I can’t remember the exact amount.’

‘I can tell you the exact amount. I’ve added it up, you see, and subpoenaed information from across the world. You are in serious debt to numerous international online gambling companies. On top of that, you have a mortgage, a loan for your car and two credit cards, both of which have been frozen for non-payment. And your maintenance payments to your ex-wife are in arrears.’

‘You can forget about them,’ Juha shouted. ‘Sirpa doesn’t make me pay them any more.’

‘Lucky you,’ said Anna. Sitting beside her, Virkkunen gave an approving nod of the head.

‘You can’t seriously believe I gave my father an overdose and dumped his body in the road on a freezing night?’

‘You administered the drugs but you didn’t dump the body. The poor junkies downstairs took care of that for you. For a moment there I imagine you must have been quite pleased with the mess they’d accidentally caused. As if by magic, the gangs got mixed up in things and took all the attention away from you.’

‘You’re crazy,’ said Juha. But his voice didn’t have as much pluck as before. His shoulders had slouched and his posture, a moment ago so belligerent, now seemed slumped. The room was silent for a moment. Juha was calculating what to say, his head lowered; the police officers waited patiently. Eventually he snapped out of it. His eyes seemed to sparkle, tears of rage glistened in them.

‘I haven’t had anything to do with my father for years. I don’t know anything about his wealth, his illnesses or his medication, not to mention his death,’ he shouted and tried to stand up. Virkkunen pushed him back into his chair by the shoulders and told him to calm down.

‘This is absolutely outrageous. You spend your time like this, pestering decent taxpayers. Investigate the bloody Pakis that were going in and out of that building dealing drugs. They’re the real criminals, not me,’ Juha muttered.

‘Your father had a sizeable estate. The inheritance would have had quite an impact on your life, what with all your debts. Isn’t that right?’ asked Virkkunen.

‘Yes, it would,’ Juha whispered. ‘But I didn’t kill him or the woman next door.’

‘You lied to us when you said that you hadn’t visited your father for years. And what do you know, you were seen at his apartment on the night of his death. You’ll appreciate that this fact alone makes you look very guilty?’

‘I do appreciate that, but I was at the resort in Kero. I sat in the bar all evening drinking. There was a party going on, a band and lots of people. Surely someone can confirm that I was there? Besides, I couldn’t have driven anywhere. I was drunk.’

‘Well, perhaps your mobile made the trip by itself,’ Anna suggested.

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Remember, the police can trace your mobile phone’s GPS movements. If you didn’t come into town that evening, your phone must have done so without you.’

Juha fell silent. The muscles in his face twitched. He took deep, fitful breaths through his nostrils, propped his elbow on the arm of his chair and rested his forehead against the palm of his hand.

‘What’s more, an assistant at the University Pharmacy in town remembers that you came in at the beginning of March, bought a one-hundred pack of Propral with your father’s prescription and
asked specific questions about the side-effects and dosage limits. And that’s not all. At the site of Riitta Vehviläinen’s murder we found a set of tyre tracks that exactly match the wheels on your SUV. We also found a cloakroom tag from a bar where you often play roulette. So it seems everything wasn’t quite as well planned and executed as it might have been.’

Juha began to tremble. He started to cry. His pathetic wails filled the interview room. He howled and sniffled and spluttered, and couldn’t stop. Anna handed him a tissue. She almost felt sorry for the man crumbling in front of her.

His inconsolable sobs lasted for several minutes. Juha’s shoulders shuddered and snot ran on to his trousers. The officers waited patiently. They knew that the game was up, and so did Juha. Once the surge of emotion was over, they would learn in detail what had happened in Leppioja on the night of the twelfth of March. Gradually the crying subsided. Juha was breathing in fits; pitiful, hiccupping gasps came from his throat, like a child after a powerful tantrum. A few seconds more, perhaps a minute, and he would start talking. Juha blew his nose and asked Anna for another tissue. He wiped his tear-stained face.

‘Very well,’ he said without raising his eyes. ‘I confess.’

Anna and Virkkunen looked at one another but still didn’t say anything. The moment was charged and strangely volatile. They had to give the man’s regret enough room to breathe; pressing or pushing him would have been like lighting a fuse, igniting a bomb that could implode, damaging or destroying outright everything that had yet to be said.

‘I don’t know what happened to me,’ Juha began in a small, thin voice. Anna had to concentrate to hear what he was saying.

‘Years and years in a cycle of debt. Every day another final demand waiting when I got home from work, and no chance of ever paying them off on these wages. My nerves were constantly on edge, I never had money for anything nice. Bills from debt collectors and demands from bailiffs. Once someone even threatened to kill me. For real.’

Juha raised his head. Anna saw that his tension had gone. On his face now was a look of pure sorrow.

‘My wife left me, wouldn’t let me see the children. The debt grew and grew. After a while I didn’t want to see the kids; I couldn’t even afford cinema tickets for them,’ he continued and wiped the trickle of tears that had run down his cheek. He began to whimper again.

‘Just imagine what years of hell feel like,’ he said through his tears. ‘I desperately wanted to find a way out. Besides, my father was an old man. He often said he wanted to die and join my mother. Well, he’s there now. It’s not such a bad thing, is it? I’m not a killer. Not really.’

‘What about Riitta Vehviläinen? What happened to her?’ asked Virkkunen.

‘I might as well tell you everything. I’ve got nothing left to lose.’

‘The more you cooperate with us now, the better it will be for you in the long run,’ Virkkunen encouraged him.

Juha took a sip of water. He looked at the floor, his feet, the walls, anywhere but at Anna and Virkkunen. Then he closed his eyes, leaned his head back as though trying to muster the strength to continue.

‘I dissolved the Propral into my father’s coffee and cognac. I was worried that he might taste it, but everything went well. He didn’t notice a thing.’

‘Very well indeed,’ Anna couldn’t stop herself from commenting.

‘I was already driving back to Kero when I realised I’d left the bottle of Propral on the coffee table in the living room. I decided to go back and get rid of it, and the prescription. When I went into the apartment, that woman from next door was there. It frightened the life out of me. The old bat asked whether I’d heard any noise from downstairs because the junkies were making a racket, and she asked where Vilho was, whether I’d taken him somewhere. I was out of my mind with fright. I realised she was screwing up my plan, that she could undermine my alibi. I quickly made up a story, saying that the junkies were dangerous and that she’d had to leave the house
and get to safety. I took one of Dad’s knives from the glass cabinet and encouraged her to come with me. I didn’t really have to talk her round; she was as freaked out as I was. I told her I’d take her to my father. We went to her apartment to fetch a coat. That’s when I slipped the bottle of Propral into her cupboard.’

Juha paused, took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead.

‘Well. Then I took her out to the woods and killed her.’

‘Slitting her throat was particularly cruel,’ said Anna.

‘I thought about strangling her, but I didn’t want to touch her with my bare hands. There was a lot of blood, but somehow it all seemed cleaner this way.’

‘What did you do with your bloodied clothes?’

‘I went home, changed and washed myself. I dumped them in the bin at my house.’

‘You dumped Riitta in the bin too.’

‘There happened to be a roll of bin-liners in my car. That’s where I got the idea.’

‘It sounds very cruel. You say you’re not a killer. After everything you’ve told us, what does that make you?’

Juha began to cry again. An inconsolable whimpering bubbled from his throat, tears ran down his cheeks, but Anna no longer felt remotely sorry for the man in front of her.

The mood in the staffroom was flat. Anna, Esko, Sari, Nils and Virkkunen quietly drank from their mugs, nobody had taken any cake, and the stale canteen biscuits didn’t seem to appeal either. Juha had been charged with one count of murder and one of manslaughter. The caretaker had had nothing to do with events. He had been able to prove that he was with his family at the time of the killings. Everything felt somehow unreal. Anna recalled the feeling of emptiness that had engulfed her after wrapping up the Hummingbird case. She’d expected a sense of elation and relief but it didn’t come. Now she felt the same again. Perhaps these investigations were so intensive, so all-consuming, that bringing them to a conclusion didn’t
offer instant relief after all. It was as though the air inside a balloon was slowly fizzling out through a tiny hole. The relief would come later. It would take a few days or weeks to get back to normal. She hoped that another case, at least not one this big, didn’t present itself for a while. Fatigue pressed heavily on Anna’s shoulders; the sense of nausea hadn’t passed. She wanted to go home and sleep for at least a day.

I’m not going anywhere. The whole idea was stupid. Where would I go – and why? Esko looked out of his apartment window into the yard, with nothing but a car park and the communal rubbish bins, not a soul in sight. The mountain of snow, piled up behind the car park by the snow trucks during the winter months, had shrunk to nothing but a pile of slush with great puddles at its foot. Nobody would buy this apartment, and even if they did, what then? What would happen if I wanted to come back? I’d have nowhere to go, I’d have to build everything from scratch, and I’m not young any more. When I divorced Anneli and went on my way, I thought that everything would change, that I’d change, that life would change. But it didn’t. Not for the better anyway. For a moment it felt like being free, like the rope round my neck had slackened a little, the same damn rope that’s so tight now I can barely breathe. They haven’t gone anywhere, the ropes, the shackles. I’m the one that put them round my neck in the first place and now they’ve grown stuck. Besides, these people make me sick, refugees, the sick and frail, all benefit scroungers. Let them fix their own problems. Even Naseem turned out to be a fucking fraud.