I know just the guy, my old pal Jaakko Pahkala. “I can. I have to decide if I will. Tell me a couple things. Your guests, and I think they’re your cronies, are from various political parties. Why is that?”
“Mutual interest.”
“Such as?”
“For instance, to use the previous example, NATO. It makes little practical sense for Finland to join it, yet we’re making it happen.” He laughed. “I mean, can you really picture NATO defending little Finland if Russia sends tank divisions rolling across our border? We have no oil. There’s nothing to be gained by NATO in coming to Finland’s defense. However, joining NATO means the creation of positions of power with great prestige. It means contracts for weapons systems with companies that people on this boat own stock in. Energy to power the systems. It means more wealth for the wealthy.”
“At the expense of the Finnish taxpayer.”
“Inspector, this is the way the world has always been. I can’t apologize for that.”
“And another question. What happened to my predecessor?”
“Your predecessor?”
“Yes. I did have one, didn’t I?”
He pauses, rubs his chin, deciding whether to tell me the truth. “He and his team are all dead. Their approach was low-tech compared to yours. They went to St. Petersburg to assassinate a human trafficking ring. They failed. They were military, by the way, not cops.”
I give him back the envelope. “Yes, I can start your skank rag and up the tithe. In return, from time to time, I’d like information, and military-grade equipment.”
“Information such as?”
“Wait a second.”
I don’t know where Milo is and if he should be seen doing whatever he’s doing. I call him and put it on speakerphone. “Tell the interior minister what it was you wanted to monitor cell phones.”
“A GSM A5.1 Real Time Cell Phone Interceptor. It’s undetectable. Handles up to four base stations, up to quad band, and up to twenty phones,” Milo says.
The minister says, “I’ll get you two of them.”
I ring off.
“You know the whereabouts of all the Real Finns leaders at all times?” I ask.
“Well, my people do.”
“This race war must be stopped, and I intend to solve the murder of Lisbet Soderlund. Tomorrow, I want to interrogate Roope Malinen.”
“I don’t want him hurt.”
“That’s up to him,” I say, “and it’s part of the deal. Most leaders of racist organizations are criminals and to a certain degree hucksters, using hate in order to unify supporters and profit from it in one way or another, not because of true ideology. I think that’s his profile, and I suspect he knows something about the murders. I’m going to get it out of him.”
A cold wind gusts and rocks us. “All right. He’s yours if you don’t kill him. May I speak to your wife?”
“It depends on why.”
“It’s about Hotel Kamp.”
I nod. She’s downstairs in a circle of gossiping hens, drunk and talking overtop one another. I call her aside. The three of us go to an empty cabin. She’s weaving, and it’s not just the rocking of the yacht. She giggles. “The prime minister is an excellent host. My glass always seemed to be full. I think I drank more than I thought I did.”
The minister says to her, “I want to bug your hotel. When foreign dignitaries come-say, Vladimir Putin-their private conversations could be used as an edge in negotiations. It’s for the good of your adopted nation.”
Solemn, Kate nods agreement. “That,” she says, “is an excellent idea, and I would be proud to serve the nation. I’m on maternity leave, though, and not in charge. You need to ask Aino, whom you met last night.”
“I’m sure encouragement from you would go a long way,” he says. “Or if Aino doesn’t agree, we can simply wait until your maternity leave is over.”
I don’t tell her what a giant mistake she made, or that she made a promise that goes against everything she stands for. The hotel will be used for honey traps. Diplomats and certain businessmen will be recorded engaging in illicit sexual liaisons. Failure to succumb to blackmail will result in the destruction of their careers and personal lives.
I decide I won’t tell her. She goes back to drinking fruity frozen rum drinks with Mirjami and Jenna and her new political pals.
29
It’s a little after six p.m. when we start the drive home from the yacht club. Kate is drunker than I thought. She’s got that female drunk thing going on, by turns giggly and weepy. She’s been drinking three days running. I’m not sure if this is just her first exposure to hanging out with a hard-drinking female crowd, keeping up with them drink for drink without paying attention and realizing how much she’s consuming, or if something is troubling her and causing this uncharacteristic behavior. For me, it was a workday that entailed socializing. I had only two beers.
I stop and pick up some baby formula. Her breast milk is alcohol toxic. It unsettles me that she didn’t take that into consideration before getting smashed. Again. Kate waits in the car while I shop. I get a text message. “Tomorrow, Roope Malinen will be at his summer cottage on the island of Nauvo, near Turku.” The message includes the GPS coordinates for the cottage.
Kate has never been to Turku. I get back in the car. “Kate, how would you like to go on a road trip tomorrow, to Turku? It’s about two hours east of Helsinki.”
“Just us?” She sounds hopeful.
“No, I have to do some cop stuff, but Milo and Sweetness will come with me, so I thought maybe Mirjami and Jenna could go with you. You can give your new Audi a good breaking-in. My brother Timo has a farm near there. After we do our business and you do your sightseeing, if he’s available, we could pay him a visit.”
She’s in happy-drunk mode at the moment. “Sounds fun,” she says.
We go home. I thank Jyri’s aunt, give her a fifty, pre-pay a taxi for her, send her home and get on the horn. Kate passes out on the couch.
I promised Moreau he could accompany me while I conduct interviews. He promised to teach Milo how to use the advanced weaponry he bought, doesn’t need, and doesn’t know how to use. Sweetness has never fired a gun. We’re searching for, I believe, military trained killers, perhaps mercenaries. He needs to learn to shoot. I’d like to kill all these birds with one stone.
“I have business in Turku anyway,” Moreau says. “It suits me.”
I tell him to meet me here at eight a.m.
Step two. Call my brother. This is harder. “Jesus, Kari,” he says, “I haven’t heard from you in two years, seen you in four. To what do I owe the honor?”
“I have some business in Turku and thought I’d drop by, if that’s OK with you.”
“It’s more than OK. It would be great. I hear you have a baby now. You gonna bring her?”
“Actually, I may bring a few people. Cops and their women. And we’d like to do a little weapons training while we’re there. Is that all right with you?”
Anger creeps into his voice. “For a minute there, I thought you wanted to see me. In fact, you want something from me. That’s it. Right?”
The truth is, I don’t give damn if I see him or anyone else, because of my lack of emotions. But I’m trying to do what I view as my duty toward my family, and I neglected my duty toward him when I felt emotions because of those emotions. It’s easier now. “No, I want to see you. I can shoot guns anywhere. I’m a fucking cop, if you recall. We have practice ranges. I can come see you and not shoot, if you prefer. Or I can go to a practice range and not see you, if you prefer that.”
He goes quiet for a minute. “Just tell me why you haven’t come to see me.”
I tell the truth. “I don’t know. Why haven’t you come to see me?”
He’s quiet again. “It’s complicated. Just fucking come visit. Take target practice with a panzer if you want. And you’re all welcome to stay the night. We have lots of room.”