Forensics had done a quick analysis of the threat letter. “Standard 20-pound stationery. Same stuff you see everywhere. We found some fingerprints, but they all belonged to the mom. The envelope was also standard store-bought stock, and no fingerprints. As far as the marker, it was more felt-tip pen than marker. One-millimeter line width, which is about consistent with a Text Mark 700.”
“With a what?” asked Kulta.
Kannas pointed to the flip chart in the corner, which held three different-colored felt-tip pens on the tray. “Those. Garden variety markers.”
“So not much to go on, then,” said Takamäki.
“Right… But the envelope was apparently sealed with moisture-sensitive adhesive, not the peel-and-stick type. If that’s the case and somebody licked it, we can get the DNA. Same thing with the envelope itself if it has any hairs or sweat drops. We sent the envelope and letter to the NBI’s lab for further testing with a rush on it.”
“Good,” said Takamäki. “Sounds like we could get somewhere on that.” Still, they’d need a matching DNA sample on file. And of course, the envelope could have been sealed with water. “Anybody have anything else?”
“So the girl didn’t catch the plate number?” said Kulta.
“Nope.”
“I can look for the car on the surveillance cameras in the area,” said Kulta. “Unless there’s a better idea.”
“Sounds good. Check the database for any cameras on Brahe Street, but be sure to look further out, too. The suspect was probably trailing her all the way from the theater academy on Haapaniemi Street.”
Suhonen’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and excused himself from the conference room.
“Hey,” said Suhonen in the hallway.
“Hey,” said Salmela.
“What’s up?”
“This is kind of a strange thing, but there’s a lot of buzz going around about this Mari Lehtonen.”
“What kinda buzz you talking about?”
Salmela paused for a while. “She seems to have found herself on someone’s hit list…”
“Tell me more.”
“Well, someone’s got a lotta dime and wants to give her a real hard time. Damn, that was like a poem. Not exactly Tommy Tabermann, but not far off. I oughta pick up the pen…”
“Stick to the point,” Suhonen snapped.
Salmela was silent for a moment. “What, something happened?”
“First tell me what you know. What kind of hard time, and who?”
“That’s the whole problem. I don’t know whether it’s true or just talk…”
“Get to the point.”
“Right. Well, word is you can make some good money for pushing her around.”
“What kind of pushing.”
“What do you think? Harassment…threats against the family…that kind of thing. Problem is, word’s going around a bit too much.”
Suhonen knew what he meant. In that case, it was probably planted. Such a rumor was bound to spread quickly in the bars with everyone wanting to crow about what they knew.
“What’s your guess?”
“I dunno. I’m sure there’s some truth to it, but it sounds more like a plant. True or not I figured I’d call.”
Suhonen thought for a moment. “Well, thanks. All I can tell you is someone gave Lehtonen’s daughter a letter threatening to kidnap her.”
“No shit.”
“Nothing happened, but we got our hackles up over here.”
“No kidding…”
“And then earlier someone squirted glue in
her door.”
“In the lock?”
“Right.”
Salmela didn’t respond.
“Helloo,” said Suhonen after a while.
“Well, if this someone’s already doing it, then why would they trumpet it all over the place. Unless these things happened because of all the talk?”
“Good question. Did you have a particular ‘someone’ in mind?”
Salmela smiled. “Well, someone someone… Isn’t it pretty obvious?”
“Well, yeah. But still, why all the talk?”
“Either this someone’s recruiting more guys or he just wants to extend his reach. You know. A little guerrilla marketing, right?” said Salmela, with emphasis on the word guerrilla.
“Right,” said Suhonen, and he hung up the phone.
* * *
Suhonen stepped back into the conference room and waited till all eyes were on him.
“Well?” said Takamäki.
“A horse named Champion’s gonna win at the races tonight,” he said with a smile.
Takamäki looked impatient.
“So my informant tells me there’s a lot of street talk about getting back at Lehtonen. Even more about her than the best places to steal Christmas presents for the kiddos.”
The others were not humored.
“But,” Suhonen continued, “of course there’s another angle. If someone really wanted to get back at her, why would they be advertising it? Might just be a cover.”
Kulta looked skeptical. “Right, a twelve-year-old girl is being stalked, but it’s just a cover.”
“My point exactly,” said Suhonen. “If someone actually wanted revenge, they wouldn’t fuck around. They’d just do it-girl in the trunk, a bullet in the brain, and the body in the drink. And mom goes too.
Right now, it’s all talk, threats and games. Intimidation.”
Takamäki nodded while the others just stared. “At any rate, the only charge we can work with right now is intimidating a witness. The maximum penalty is three years in prison, which means we can’t use phone taps.”
“And we have no suspects,” said Kulta.
“Really?” said Suhonen. “It’s obvious that this is connected to Korpi’s trial, and Jere Siikala is one of Korpi’s lieutenants. If Guerrilla’s not the perpetrator, he’s at least the instigator.”
“Based on what evidence?” said Kulta.
Takamäki cut in. “The threshold for reasonable suspicion isn’t terribly high. I won’t open an investigation in Siikala’s name yet, but obviously we’ll have to start looking into his activities. The prosecutor never charged him in the murder investigation, so we can’t use that as a pretense for surveillance.”
“What about the mom and the kid?” asked Kannas.
“We’ll have to consult with Joutsamo about that.”
“Just thinking that a round-the-clock operation like this takes four guys per day, at the least. That’s a lot of manpower…”
Kulta interjected. “Ever heard of that German prosecutor who lives in a fenced-in bunker with his family? The kids get carted off to school in an armored Mercedes?”
“There’re plenty of Finnish cops who’ve hung it up because of threats, too,” said Kannas. “Even if the cop can deal with it, the family’s another story.”
“Let’s think about that later,” said Takamäki. “For tonight, the situation is under control.”
* * *
Joutsamo was sitting in a recliner in the living room, while Mari and Laura were on the sofa. An episode of an American legal drama was playing on the television.
“I’m glad you were able to come,” said Mari.
“Yeah,” said Joutsamo. Lehtonen had called her in a panic after opening the letter. Initially, she’d had trouble understanding what had happened, but ultimately the extent of the threat had come to light. Takamäki had sent Joutsamo to their apartment and launched some kind of an operation. What exactly that was, Joutsamo didn’t know, and she didn’t want to talk details within earshot of Mari and Laura.
“Have you guys been following this series?” said Joutsamo, attempting to take their minds off the case. They had already gone over it once, and Joutsamo had assured her that, although it was unfortunate, it was rare and gave little cause for worry.
“Off and on,” said Lehtonen. “So what happens now?”
“Well, the Boston lawyer is probably…”
“No, I mean with our case.”
Joutsamo smiled. “Pretty soon you guys will go to bed. I’ll be here on the sofa, and we also have an officer posted at the entrance. That’s about it.”