“That’ll depend on how good a chance Korpi thinks he has at an acquittal,” said Takamäki.
“Well, I’ll chat with Lehtonen about it.”
“But don’t scare her, of course.”
“Will do,” said Joutsamo. “Won’t do, that is.”
* * *
Suhonen was driving a rustbucket VW Golf eastbound on Helsinki Avenue. He passed Brahe Field on the right. The Corner Pub wasn’t far off, but he wasn’t headed there. Maybe he’d stop by later in the evening to see what he’d find out. The lunchtime crowd was just a bunch of blowhards anyway. Loose talk on last night’s petty thefts didn’t interest him.
Actually, his intentions had nothing to do with work. Maybe in a way they did, since Suhonen had met her while on a stakeout at a downtown pub on Friday night. Deputy Chief Skoog had decided to crack down on the Subutex street trade, so Suhonen had volunteered to help bust a drug ring that was hawking it out of the bars. The operation targeted a number of dealers across various locations where the pills were known to be peddled, and Suhonen wound up staking out a Belgian pub. No traffic in Subutex that night, but at the bar he had met Raija.
Raija was about five years Suhonen’s junior, and an employee of an insurance agency on Aleksander Street. The evening had culminated in a long kiss at around midnight before Suhonen had to go back to the station for a wrap-up meeting on the sting. They had arranged to meet again for coffee on Tuesday.
Back at the station, Suhonen had checked her background. Such caution was necessary, since gangs were constantly trying to infiltrate the police by putting women into bed with them. Nothing in Raija Mattila’s background gave reason for alarm. All that turned up was a speeding ticket from a few years back; and she’d been telling the truth about not being married.
Suhonen parked his car near the coffee shop where they had agreed to meet. The spot suited Raija just fine, as it was only a couple of minutes from the Kaisaniemi subway station.
Suhonen arrived ten minutes early, but Raija was already at a table, waving him in. She smiled and whisked back her blonde hair. Suhonen gave a nod and walked to the table. “Hey,” he said.
“Hi,” she chirped.
“You’re early.”
“Yeah, nothing pressing at work. But so are you.”
“Yeah, pretty slow on my end, too.” He hadn’t told her what he did, but neither had he lied. “Can I get you a coffee?”
“Yes. Please,” she smiled.
“Cream?”
“No, just black.”
Good, he thought. He liked people who took their coffee straight. “Wanna sandwich or something?”
“No, thanks. I had some chicken salad at work.”
A few minutes later, Suhonen returned to the table with two coffees and sat down. Raija started to dig some money out of her purse, but Suhonen stopped her.
“I had a nice time on Friday,” she said, still smiling.
“Me too.” Suhonen was about to complain about having had to leave, but that would leave an open question as to why, which he didn’t care to answer. He sidestepped. “You make it home all right?”
“Yeah. No problem.”
Suhonen tasted his coffee, clearly better than the station’s. Or maybe it was her. She took a sip from her own cup, and he wondered if she found it better than the insurance company’s. She must-office coffee was pretty much all the same, somehow tied to the workplace.
But so was Suhonen’s life. There he sat, at a table with a radiant woman, and all he could think about was how to avoid talk of his job.
“You know,” she said. “You’re a pretty mysterious guy. I’ve been wondering all weekend about what it is you do.”
Well, here we go, thought Suhonen. He didn’t want to lie. “I’m a cop.”
“Really? I thought so, but I wasn’t sure.” Her whole face was lit up now. “Were you working then on Friday? All you had was two beers all night.”
“Not then, but I was over the weekend. Not smart to get hammered before a shift.” A little white lie was okay, he thought.
“What kind of cop?”
“I catch bad guys,” he said, grinning over the rim of his cup. In a way, it wasn’t so bad that his job had come up, though talking about police work was always a double-edged sword. Some women were repelled by it, some attracted to it.
“Violent Crimes Unit?”
“Yep.”
“You don’t look like the kind of cops you see
on TV.”
“That’s why they don’t let me on camera.”
Suhonen’s phone rang, and he glanced at Raija. She urged him to answer. Not that his glance was anything more than a gesture, since he would’ve taken the call in any case. The caller was Salmela.
“Yeah,” he answered. “Right… Well, no… It can’t wait? Alright. I’ll be there.” He hung up the phone.
“Work?” she asked.
Suhonen nodded. “Yup.”
“Urgent?”
“As always. But listen, I wondered if you might like to go to the theater sometime. A friend of mine has a part at the Ryhmä Theater and says they have some good stuff going right now.”
“When?”
“When would work for you?”
“Whenever.”
“There’s a show on Thursday. We could go out for a beer afterwards, and maybe some pizza beforehand or something,” Suhonen said, sort of hesitating.
“Sure. That sounds good.”
“Good. I’ll get the tickets and give you a call.”
“You gotta go?”
Suhonen nodded. “But I’ll see you on Thursday.”
“Mmm-hm,” she said, taking a sip of coffee as Suhonen got up. She looked down at her watch and shook her head.
* * *
Two guards brought Korpi into the same interrogation room where Joutsamo had interviewed him the previous day. One of them was waiting in the room when Takamäki stepped in. He gave Takamäki an inquiring look, wondering if he should leave, but Takamäki signaled for him to stay.
“Hello,” said Takamäki.
“Pig,” Korpi snorted.
“Takamäki, rather. I’m the head investigator on your case.”
“I ain’t saying nothin’.”
“That so? Well, let me brief you anyway… You’re being held on suspicion of the murder of Tomi Salmela.”
Korpi narrowed his eyes. “On what fucking grounds?”
“I thought you weren’t gonna say anything. I’d think you’d know by now that all we need to detain you is reasonable suspicion. Your lawyer’s waiting out in the hall. I’ll let him in.”
Korpi sat sulking behind the table. Takamäki stood and signaled for the guard to open the door. On his way out, he passed Korpi’s defense attorney, Mats Martin. The tall, thin man was nearing fifty and had on a gray tailored suit with a well-chosen navy blue tie and crisp white shirt. His hair was blond and his skin still bore a hint of summer bronze.
Takamäki nodded as he exited.
“Just knock on the door when you’re ready,” the guard told Martin as he shut the door.
Martin set his briefcase on the wooden table and sat down. He looked Korpi sharply in the eyes. “Haven’t seen you for a while.”
“Guess not.”
“What’s this about?”
“Just found out they’re trying to pin me with a murder. Which I didn’t commit.”
“What have you told the police?”
“Nothing.”
Martin opened his briefcase and took out a notepad. “Well, you know me well enough to know my first question.”
Korpi nodded.
Martin continued, “No use playing games. That just wastes everybody’s time. I want you to answer honestly so I can build your defense. And let me be clear: I won’t ask this question again, because if I find out you’re lying, I’ll drop the case.” Martin’s eyes met Korpi’s. “Did you do it?”
“No.”
“Did you have any role in it?”
“No.”
“And that’s the truth?”