“If you do, I’ll shoot you.”
Repo was surprised by the police officer’s aggressive stance. He began to laugh. “You’re tough for a cop!”
“Timo Repo, this game ends now. Put the detonator on the floor and let him go.”
Repo glanced at the pale Fredberg. “Look, judge, some folks even recognize me!”
Suhonen’s gun remained trained on Repo. He could see Repo’s forehead through his sights; the escaped convict was less than thirty feet away. He would definitely die if Suhonen pulled the trigger. The problem was that Suhonen wasn’t sure about the detonation mechanism-often hostage-takers used devices where the bomb was set off not by pressing a switch, but by releasing it.
“Repo, listen! This is your final chance. Let’s end this now.”
Repo’s eyes drilled into Suhonen. “I don’t have any reason to die, but I don’t have any reason to live, either. If you want, I’m happy to end this now. You really want to?”
Suhonen’s finger gripped tighter around the trigger. There was not an iota of give left. One tiny tug and the bullet would leave the barrel and pierce Repo’s forehead. But what about the detonation mechanism? The chances were about fifty-fifty. If Suhonen shot and releasing the button triggered the explosives, Suhonen would die too. The odds were on Repo’s side.
Repo closed his eyes. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”
Suhonen had an impulse to rush for the door. That way maybe his legs would get lacerated, but he might save his head. He didn’t follow through on the impulse, though.
“Repo, stop.” Suhonen lowered his weapon. Repo muttered something Suhonen couldn’t make out.
“No one needs to die. Let’s just calm down here,” Suhonen said.
Repo opened his eyes, his gaze was intense. He didn’t say a word.
“Peace and love and all that,” Suhonen said. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to head out that door, and we can talk more soon by phone.”
“You can’t leave,” Fredberg wailed.
Repo smiled. “Listen to the judge, officer. He’ll slap you with a police misconduct conviction if you leave him here with me alone.”
Suhonen tried to lighten the mood. “Sure, I can stay. I don’t have anything against it. There’s probably some expensive cognac around here somewhere. Let’s light a fire, pop open a bottle, and watch a late-night talk show. But I’m going to keep this Glock in my pocket. Is that okay? Huh?”
“Out,” Repo ordered coldly. He was unsure about what to do, but he needed to get the police officer out of there no matter what. It felt like the simplest solution, since the woman had already slipped away.
Suhonen obeyed and walked out the back door. He could have tried to stay inside, but he needed backup. As soon as he was on the patio, he broke into a run. He wondered where the chief justice’s wife had gone. He found Leena Fredberg out on the street in her nightgown, sobbing and shivering by the mailbox. Suhonen gave her his coat and started walking her down the snowy street to his car.
The undercover officer pulled out his phone and called the Emergency Ops Center before he did anything else. The gist was that there was a hostage situation on Marina Road. An ambulance and lots of backup were needed on the scene.
The second call was to Takamäki, whom he woke up. Suhonen informed his lieutenant that he had good news and bad news. The good news was that Repo had been found. The bad news was that he was holding the chief justice of the Supreme Court hostage.
Takamäki said he’d be there in fifteen minutes.
Suhonen told him to dress warmly.
CHAPTER 19
THURSDAY, 2:05 A.M.
LAUTTASAARI, HELSINKI
“Briefing!” Takamäki growled. The lead van had room for four: Joutsamo, SWAT chief Turunen, and on-duty lieutenant Helmikoski were inside with Takamäki. Joutsamo was sitting in the rear left at the computer, next to her boss. Turunen was across from her, and Helmikoski had spun the swiveling front seat backwards. The van’s sliding side door was open with Suhonen and a couple of uniformed sergeants standing outside; wet snow was falling on them.
The van was parked at the edge of the soccer field, where Takamäki had set up the command center. Four police vans were parked nearby. The target was less than a hundred yards away, behind a small grove of trees. About twenty officers from the cities of Helsinki, Espoo, and Vantaa were on the scene, and more were streaming in.
“Suhonen, you start,” Takamäki said. “Tell us what happened.”
“Sure,” Suhonen said from outside the van, wiping the snow from his beanie. “This evening I got a tip from the field that Repo might be inside this house. I came to check it out and entered through the back door, which had already been broken into. Fredberg’s wife was tied up in the living room, and I freed her before Repo and Fredberg came in. The wife escaped, and then Repo and I had a pretty intense conversation.”
“How intense?” Turunen asked.
“I was looking at him through the sights of my Glock, and he had a detonator in his hand. The dynamite was strapped around the judge’s body, and I came to the conclusion that, under the circumstances, I wouldn’t be able to bring the situation to a peaceful resolution.”
“Good call,” Turunen said.
“Yeah, maybe. In any case, I got the woman out of the house. She was pretty hysterical, but I got the basics out of her. Repo had broken into the house and woken both of them in the bedroom. She didn’t have any idea who the intruder was, but it had turned out that he had something to do with her husband’s work. He repeatedly claimed to be innocent of some murder.”
“What about the dynamite?” Turunen asked.
“Slim, light-brown sticks that had been strung around Fredberg in some sort of harness. There were wires leading to the detonator in Repo’s hand.”
“What sort of detonator?” Turunen continued, as an ambulance curved onto the field.
“Guess how hard I was trying to figure that out while I had a bead on Repo’s forehead.”
“You didn’t see whether Repo was pressing a button or switch down or whether his finger was on top of it?”
Suhonen looked seriously at Turunen. “If I would’ve been sure it wouldn’t go off when his finger was released from the switch, I would’ve taken the shot. Definitely. I didn’t dare take the chance, because that could’ve meant three bodies.”
Turunen nodded. “Okay. Another good call. Did he have a firearm?”
“Didn’t see one. The woman mentioned a knife, but he didn’t have it in his hand when I saw him.”
Turunen continued his quizzing. “Was Repo drunk or high?”
“Not noticeably, at least.”
Joutsamo asked from the back seat, “Where’s the wife now?”
“Ambulance took her to the hospital. I don’t know which one.”
“Okay,” Takamäki said. “And assess Repo’s state of mind for us.”
“Hmm, what could I say about that,” Suhonen said. “There were probably several pounds of dynamite on those harnesses, so I’d consider him really damn dangerous. He didn’t present any demands, so I’d assume this is some sort of vendetta. Did this Fredberg preside over Repo’s case?”
Joutsamo nodded in the back seat. “Yeah. Fredberg was chair of the Kouvola appeals court when Repo was resentenced to life in prison.”
“So a vendetta,” Turunen huffed. “Suicidal?”
Suhonen shrugged. “The woman remembered him having said, ‘I don’t have any reason to die, but I don’t have any reason to live, either.’ And, he said the same thing to me, but he didn’t blow us up once I got the woman out of there, so in that sense we still might have a chance.”
“Okay,” Takamäki said. “Suhonen, you can get out of here. We don’t need you anymore, and you can’t be involved, given your confrontation with Repo.”
Suhonen smiled. “Hey, I’m not going to argue with you. So I can go take a hot shower now?”