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Rauli Salo was on his way to Korpi’s dreary cell on the northern block with his 10:30 lunch. The guards on the block didn’t mind at all that Salo had volunteered to take the gang boss his meals. A small note on the cell door read: “No contacts.”

The northern cell block, sometimes referred to as the “hazardous waste ward,” was among the most poorly maintained in the complex. All prisoners on the block were either in isolation or under protection, so the cells were under constant lock-down. To make matters worse, the cells had no running water or toilets. Buckets served as bed pans, which had infused the wing with a distinctly revolting stench.

The routine was rigid: breakfast at 7:00, lunch at 10:30, and dinner at 3:10 P.M. At some point during the day, prisoners were permitted one hour outside. That was it.

The green cell walls were dirty and dilapidated, and the cramped windows served only to complement the oppressive atmosphere.

Salo opened the cell door. Korpi sat up on his cot with a grin. “Look who’s here, room service. What’s it gonna be today?”

“Sausage soup,” said Salo, before lowering his voice to a whisper, just in case Korpi’s cell was wired. An isolation cell was probably not worth the trouble, but you could never be too careful “The number you gave me doesn’t answer anymore.”

“Really?”

Salo shook his head. “There’s news all over the TV and papers about a bomb threat against Lehtonen. You know…the witness from your trial. She bitched out the cops pretty good on TV.”

“That’s good,” said Korpi. The man behind the bombing was no mystery to Korpi-few besides Ahola had access to such explosives. The man had a stash of them at a cabin out in the country. Korpi tried to reason out what had happened. If Martin had stopped answering his phone, he was probably in jail. That was to be expected. And the cops would certainly have launched a major operation after the bomb threat. But if Martin was in jail, then Guerrilla probably was too, since he had been Martin’s contact.

“Did they catch the bomber?”

“As of this morning they were still looking.”

Korpi smiled as he nodded. “You got some paper? I got another number.”

“I…I can’t,” whispered Salo. “This whole thing… It’s getting kinda heavy.”

Korpi narrowed his eyes at the guard. “You think you have a choice?”

Salo didn’t respond.

But Korpi knew when to let out the reins and when to pull them in. Now it was time to let them out. “Alright. This’ll be the last time. I’ll give you this number…all you have to do is say ‘game over.’”

“Game over.” he repeated. “What’s that supposed to…”

“You don’t need to know. But I’ll tell you anyway. We’re gonna leave her alone. You do this, and I won’t ask you for anything more. Once everything cools down, you’ll get a grand.”

“A grand. And no more jobs after this.”

“That’s right,” whispered Korpi, and he recited the telephone number.

His face was serious, but behind it was a barely suppressed laugh. Did the guard really think he could get off this easy? But he’d taken the bait, and swallowed the hook. And the story Korpi had given him about the message was just that: a story.

Korpi spooned himself some soup, and Salo closed the cell door behind him. He felt unsettled about the message. Korpi was clearly behind the threats on Lehtonen’s life, so calling the phone number would be construed as aiding and abetting a convicted criminal. Of course, he had already been guilty of that when he met that suit in the restaurant, but then he hadn’t known what a serious crime it would lead to.

Salo considered his options. Maybe he could just deliver the message, collect the money and hope nobody found out. And if the message brought an end to the threats, it would actually be a good deed.

As he strode down the hallway of the isolation wing, he struggled to come up with any other alternatives. He could contact the police and tell them about this latest message, but then they would grill him about any previous messages. Nobody would believe that this was the first, because it was too farfetched. It would end with a conviction for aiding and abetting, and then he would be fired.

Shit. It was just one call. And for that, a grand. With the five hundred from before, that made fifteen hundred-a nice trip to Thailand for a couple of weeks, where he could relax and forget the whole thing.

The sooner he did it, the less it would bother him, he decided. But he wouldn’t use his own phone. He’d use the phone in the break room at the prison.

Game over. That wasn’t so bad.

CHAPTER 28

MONDAY, 1:00 P.M.

KALLVIK STREET, EAST HELSINKI

Matti Ahola was lying on the sofa, staring at the sweeping patterns in the plastered ceiling. To him it was much like a starry sky-it let the mind roam free. Ahola imagined a swan, but the image transmuted into a dragon and he was forced to close his eyes.

He felt tired, not having had any decent sleep in twenty-four hours. Always on the move. That the cops were after him for the car bomb was obvious, but all he wanted was to sleep. The car wasn’t a good place for that. He’d awake to a masked SWAT cop busting in the window and jamming an MP5 against his temple. It would be just his luck for someone to call the police about a guy sleeping in his car.

Harri Nieminen’s apartment had been Ahola’s only hope. Nieminen was an old boxing buddy with whom he had traded plenty of blows in the ring. When Ahola arrived, Nieminen had told him that the cops had busted in his door last night. The broken lock hadn’t gone unnoticed. Now a padlock dangled from a hasp on the inner jamb, and Nieminen simply swapped it to another hasp on the outside when he left the apartment.

Nieminen had at first resisted when Ahola showed up, but the business end of a Nagant Russian revolver had settled the matter in Ahola’s favor.

Ahola heard Nieminen rustling on the mattress, where he’d been told to stay. Ahola sat up halfway, the revolver resting on his stomach.

“Gotta take a piss,” said Nieminen.

“Alright. Go on.”

Once he heard the unmistakable sound coming from the bathroom, Ahola assessed his situation: Korpi’s go-ahead for game over had finally come, so Lehtonen’s time was up. Earlier on, Guerrilla had given him information on where she lived, where she worked, and her daughter’s movements. The kidnapping threat was easy, but the bomb had called for more careful planning. His orders then were only to scare her, so he had left one of the safeties on. When Korpi turned the screw, it was usually a full turn.

Now it was time to kill. Ahola was dreaming of the ways to do it when Nieminen came back from the bathroom. He waved the gun toward the mattress, and Nieminen sat down.

“How long you planning on staying? I need to take care of some things.”

Ahola laughed. “I’ll stay as long as I want, so lie down and make yourself comfortable. Don’t worry though…won’t be long.”

“I heard Korpi’s out of money. That the cops found his stash.”

“That’s not true, just rumors…” said Ahola. “By the way, how’s your little bro?”

“Kaappo?”

“Yeah.”

“Doing a four-year stint for dope. Haven’t heard from him in about a week.”

“Hmm.” Ahola thought for a moment. “Korpi’s got money, that much I know. Spread the word.”

Nieminen shook his head and lay down on the mattress. Under as much pressure as Ahola seemed to be, it was probably best not to aggravate him.

Ahola’s thoughts turned back to killing the woman. How should he do it? Ring the doorbell and blow her brains all over the front entry? First the mom, then the girl? Lehtonen didn’t own a car, so planting a car bomb was out, and the cops were bound to be on high alert anyway. Maybe he could run her over if he found the right time and place, but that left too much room for error. Complicated schemes were too difficult-there had to be a simpler way. A drive-by shooting? Not bad. The getaway would be fast, anyhow.