Authors: Jarkko Sipila
“Listen, Kari. Would it be possible for you to take this Ear-Nurminen angle?”
“Fine with me, but is that going to be okay with the bosses?”
“Let them hash it out among themselves later on. We have crimes to solve here.”
“Good call. And I can use Nykänen and Suhonen?”
“We’ll need Nykänen back at the NBI tomorrow. Otherwise, I don’t see why not. Let them have at it. It’ll do Nykänen good to be back in the field and away from the coffeemaker for a while.”
Takamäki looked at Honkala. “I’m guessing you have the S.W.A.T. team on standby. When are you looking to raid the Skulls’ compound?”
“You’re thinking
now
?”
“For two reasons. First: we might get some forensic evidence for the bombing. Second: I’m thinking about this Nurminen’s murder. The top brass at the Skulls are suspects, so it’s possible we’ll find them at the compound. We have plenty of probable cause for a search warrant.”
“We’ll have to hit Larsson’s and Steiner’s apartments at the same time,” Honkala said.
“I’ll dig up the addresses. You let the S.W.A.T. team know so they’re ready.”
* * *
Salmela paid no attention to the cars hurtling past on Hämeen Street in Kallio.
“Can you help me out?” Salmela asked over the phone as he walked down the street.
“What do you need?” asked Juha Saarnikangas.
“A place to crash for the night. I gotta figure out some stuff…can’t go home right now.”
“Why not?”
“I’ll tell you later. Help me out,” he begged. The ex-junkie was the only one he could think of who could help—even if Saarnikangas didn’t have a fat wad of cash in his pocket.
“Where are you?”
“On Hämeen Street. If nothing else, I’ve got a door code for a basement nearby that should still work. But can’t you help me out?”
Saarnikangas promised to look into it and call him back shortly. He hung up.
A couple of minutes later, Salmela reached the unemployment office building. Its entry lights glared off the pavement. A car turned onto Hämeen Street and slowed down as it came abreast of Salmela. He turned abruptly into the courtyard of the unemployment office, picking up the pace. The car sped up and followed him in.
Salmela glanced back at the car. In the dim lighting from the entryway and the street lamps, the shadowy faces of Larsson and Steiner were visible. Larsson had a phone to his ear.
The parking lot of the courtyard had room for about thirty cars. Salmela looked about frantically for an escape route, but he was cornered. He stopped in his tracks in the middle of the parking lot.
His swirling thoughts brought him back to the cliff in Nuuksio. There had been no escape there either. He didn’t stand a chance—struggle was futile. Fate usually proved more merciful than a fight.
The car stopped a few feet short of him. Back at Ear-Nurminen’s place, luck had struck when he spotted Larsson and Steiner walking into the building from the window of the pizzeria. He had known better than to go back. Salmela had taken off walking—he didn’t dare run. He had passed the fire station along Agricola Street. Then the streets had seemed too dangerous, and he ducked into a bar for a beer.
For a moment, the familiar surroundings had made him feel safe, but then anxiety struck. He thought about calling Suhonen, but the officer had only caused him trouble recently. That wasn’t the right answer, and he couldn’t just sit there in the bar, waiting for the inevitable. He had to keep moving. The labyrinthine streets of Merihaka had crossed his mind and he headed in that direction. He might be able to find some unlocked door to a warm cellar and sleep there for the night. That had its risks, though. Security guards made their rounds, and getting caught could land him in jail. He had hoped Saarnikangas could’ve provided refuge, but now it didn’t matter.
Salmela stood in the headlights, resigned to his fate as Larsson and Steiner climbed out of the car.
* * *
“Shit,” Nykänen said as he gunned the car through the tunnel under Merihaka. “This is hopeless.”
“You have any better ideas?” asked Suhonen.
The NBI lieutenant mulled it over. Technology couldn’t help—they had no way to use GPS tracking, phone records, wire taps or any other means of pinpointing the target. Nykänen’s thoughts wandered back to the nineties, when he had been chasing violent offenders in the same manner. If somebody ran, walked in a peculiar manner or fit the description, they were stopped and questioned. They had criss-crossed the city by car, watching for anything suspicious. Now, it seemed a complete waste of time.
“No.”
“Let’s take a spin through those parking ramps,” Suhonen suggested. He recalled an old case that had given the parking ramp a grim reputation. A homeless bum had beaten a tax official to death with a roofing hammer. The VCU had dumped countless hours into solving the case. When he was drunk, Salmela had bragged a few times about how he could break into the Merihaka cellars if he ever needed to.
They weren’t the only ones on the prowl anymore. To help in the murder investigation, Takamäki had dispatched five squad cars to patrol the streets of Kallio for Larsson and Steiner. The patrol officers had been given a description of Salmela as well.
Nykänen swung the car right into the first entrance to the concrete ramp. There were lots of cars, though the corporate spots were empty. Nykänen drove at a crawl through the ramp, but nobody was in sight.
On the left, an escalator ascended to street level.
“Can’t get up there by car,” said Nykänen.
“Sure we can, but not through there.”
They came upon a concrete wall and Nykänen turned left. The route through the ramp led back to the same entrance they had just descended. On the right was a vast parking lot.
“If someone wanted to hide here, we wouldn’t have a chance of finding him.”
“Unless he was nervous enough that he couldn’t sit tight,” said Suhonen, his eyes scanning the cars. He was ready to burst out of the vehicle in a foot pursuit at any moment.
“Right or left?”
“Left. Let’s go back to Kallio and comb the streets for another half hour. Then let’s start leaning on a few people and see what we can find out.”
* * *
Larsson raised the gun and pressed it against Salmela’s forehead. “Goddamn bastard!” he hissed.
Larsson was amazed that Salmela didn’t respond. He didn’t cry, beg, complain or even soil himself.
“Pull the trigger and let’s get outta here,” Steiner said, standing beside the door of the car. He took a swig from a water bottle. Smoking weed always made him thirsty. The parking lot was empty.
“I’m not gonna shoot this pathetic asshole here. That’d be too nice,” Larsson said and lowered his weapon.
Steiner took a step forward and a knife appeared in his hand. “If you can’t do it, I will.”
“No, you won’t. Get in the car—both of you!”
Steiner stared at Larsson, who was obviously serious. Salmela obeyed at once and headed toward the car. Larsson followed close behind and Steiner groaned. Drawing this out further would not bode well.
Salmela settled into the back seat and Steiner slid in next to him. Larsson climbed into the driver’s seat and whipped a U-turn in the parking lot. He didn’t say a thing. In the back seat, next to Salmela, Steiner twirled a bloody knife in his hand.
CHAPTER 24
MONDAY, 9:00 P.M.
SKULLS’ COMPOUND, HELSINKI
Beneath their helmets, the S.W.A.T. officers were wearing black ski masks. The first in line next to the wall was Jack Saarinen. Though Jack wasn’t his real name, it had stuck because of his appearance, which was uncannily similar to TV’s “Jack Bauer” of
24
.
All twelve of the officers in the stack were decked out in black. The majority of them held MP5 sub-machine guns, though a couple had shotguns. Jack was also wielding a ballistic shield. The street lights cast the dark shadows of the policemen onto the concrete wall of the Skulls’ headquarters.
The S.W.A.T team’s vehicles were parked a couple of hundred yards away and the team had crept in from there. They had snipped an entry hole in the flimsy fence. Back at police headquarters, they’d gone over the blueprints and the plan was clear—a surprise attack would give them the upper hand.
Just behind Jack, officer Jarmo Eronen waited. He had a heavy battering ram to bash open the lock on the front door. If that didn’t work, a third policeman had a shotgun equipped with a lock-slug at the ready. Instead of a regular cartridge, it was loaded with a heavy metal slug that would destroy any ordinary lock.
Jack thought this was a perfect location. Far away from any residences in the middle of an industrial district. Almost like training.
The order came over his earpiece. “Let’s go,” said the calm voice of Turunen, the S.W.A.T. team’s commander. Each officer was wearing a headset with an earpiece and microphone.
Jack lifted the heavy ballistic shield off the ground and quietly covered the remaining distance to the door.
Eronen ducked out of line, came next to Jack and studied the door and lock. It would be too time consuming to pick and they didn’t have the code for the keypad. Eronen swung back the hulking battering ram. For the moment, the element of surprise was still theirs, but not after the racket he was about to cause.
The ram smashed into the lock and the door bounced open.
The entryway was dim, but not completely dark. No need for night-vision. Jack took up the lead behind his shield and the others followed in a tight line.
A squad car pulled up to the curb with its lights flashing and two officers and a German shepherd joined the others.
The S.W.A.T. officers had flipped on their laser sights. Through the window of the shield, Jack watched the red specks dancing in front of him.
The entry was empty and the stack of officers proceeded up the stairs. A glimmer of light came down the stairwell, telling Jack there was no door at the top of the stairs, or at least it wasn’t closed.