Wolves and Angels (46 page)

No one wanted to answer, so Koskinen did it himself. “Because she was protecting
Timonen
’s killer.” Instead of applause, all he heard around the table was incredulous muttering.

“So that was your big point?”

“More than that,” Koskinen said. “Pike also told us that one of the other nurses had a budding relationship with one of the male residents, and she hinted directly at Anniina Salonen.”

“But that’s just rumors,” Pekki said coldly. “Bitter gossip from a trollop who got handed a pink slip.”

Koskinen continued as if he hadn’t heard. “The other thing that popped into my head during the run was the propane tank in Anniina Salonen’s Fiat.”

“Propane tank?” Kaatio said suspiciously. “Did you say propane tank?”

“Yeah. A yellow propane tank. I saw it yesterday in passing in the back of Salonen’s Fiat.”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

Koskinen enigmatically scanned the eyes around the table. “Where do you need a propane tank?”

Eskola raised his hand like a school boy.

“Well?”

“Maybe in a boat or at a cabin or…”

“Good boy, Antti! Now you’re catching on.”

Eskola reddened with pleasure. But it was obvious from his round face that he didn’t have the slightest clue what he was catching on to. Neither did the others.

Riipinen sucked on his inhaler and then coughed like he was getting real smoke from it. “May be the sleep deprivation, but you lost me ages ago.”

Koskinen wagged his finger. “Just be patient. Yesterday I went to Nokia to see Hannu Ketterä’s parents. While we were there we happened to talk about their summer cabin.”

“What about it?”

“They said that Raimo
Timonen
made his fateful dive it off the dock of that very same cabin. She also revealed an interesting fact:
t
heir son liked spending time at the cabin. He loved the place. But Hannu had stopped going there after his own accident, so the Ketteräs sold the cabin the next summer.”

Kaatio was rubbing his temples, Ulla was yawning, and Pekki’s lips were pursed. Everything made it clear that they didn’t have the slightest clue what their lieutenant was shooting at.

“Now, listen up!” Koskinen continued. “I just called Iiro Ketterä and asked him who they sold the cabin to. He remembered the buyer’s name immediately. It was some guy named Sundqvist, a communications engineer for Sonera. I got the number and luckily he happened to be home. He said that he had moved to Jyväskylä for a new job and sold the cabin last July.”

He paused for effect and then dropped his bomb: “He also remembered the buyer’s name: Anniina Salonen.”

Everyone stared at Koskinen blankly, and his assurance of victory once again started crumbling. He again started doubting his own conclusions, thinking once again that they might just be ravings brought on by the endorphins.

Pekki sat with his shoulders hunched and leaned on the table with his arms. The expression behind his black-rimmed glasses was one of pity.

“Are you trying to say that Ketterä killed
Timonen
and
Salmi
? And Anniina Salonen was his accomplice?”

Koskinen spread his arms. “Something like that.”

He looked to Ulla for help, but she was rubbing the bridge of her nose with her index finger, looking like she was thinking about what she would make for dinner for her kids that night.

But Eskola managed to open his mouth. “I think the lieutenant is right.”

Pekki ignored Eskola’s brown-tongued comment. He stared at Koskinen with a challenge in his eyes. “Why would Ketterä have killed
Timonen
? I could understand it the other way around.
Timonen
had plenty of reasons to hate Ketterä. He stole his girlfriend right after the diving accident.”

Koskinen didn’t have an answer for Pekki’s question, just an inkling. But he still wanted to keep it to himself. He didn’t have the patience to listen to any more incredulous carping. His exhaustion made him doubt his ability to stomach it.

He tried to conceal his doubts. “I’m sure the motive will become clear enough once we get a chance to interrogate the individuals in question.”

This still didn’t arouse any support, and now Riipinen also took a turn at the cross-examination. “What about
Salmi
then? Why did Ketterä kill a poor, harmless old lady?”

Riipinen ended his question by taking a pull on his inhaler as if for emphasis, and the sound made Kaatio’s nerves snap. “Do you have to keep sucking on that pacifier of yours the whole goddamn time!”

Offended, Riipinen took the inhaler out of his mouth.
“Easy for you to flap your jaw when you haven’t been up for the past twenty hours.”

“Why don’t you suck your thumb? It would make less noise!”

“It’s my own business what I suck on…”

“You’re never going to kick the habit anyway.”

This was too much for Riipinen. He pointed his plastic cigarette replacement at Kaatio and, with his voice shaking, said, “If Koskinen did it, why can’t I?”

At this point Ulla joined the conversation again. “Koskinen wrestles in a completely different class from the rest of you.”

All five men turned to look at Ulla. Her cheeks reddened and her smirk faded. “What I meant was…was how many of you could run twenty miles and still be up there pacing around as lucid as him.”

“Yeah, lucid,” Kaatio huffed.

“Well, Ulla, you tell me what sense there is in running through the forest from Valkeakoski to Tampere with a number on your chest. And even paying for the privilege! The bus would be cheaper,” Pekki said.

Koskinen saw how their attempt at thrashing out their problems with the investigation was once again devolving into trivial repartee, and wondered if it was like this everywhere. Or had he just happened to be given the most eccentric group of subordinates in all of Finland?

“No point sitting here bickering,” he said, raising his voice. “The only way we’re going to find out is by looking. The cabin is in Asuntila, near Teisko. I got driving directions from this Sundqvist. It isn’t far.”

Koskinen waited for a new chorus of protest, but his detectives surprised him again. “Should we take our own cars?” Kaatio looked at the others inquiringly. “Or should we get wheels from the garage?”

Riipinen rubbed the edges of his thick mustache thoughtfully. “Should we ask a couple of patrol cars along?”

“Why?” Pekki asked. “We have five people and one woman here, all against one cripple.”

Koskinen jumped in before the banter could turn into a fight again. “Four people is enough. I’ll go with Kaatio and Pekki can follow with Ulla.”

He turned to Riipinen. “Kalevi, you go home to sleep. You’ve been up long enough.”

Riipinen pulled his inhaler out of his pocket and fidgeted with it, unsure whether he should put it in his mouth or not. “I’m not going to sleep until later. Last night was my last graveyard shift, and I need to get back into a normal rhythm. I’ll probably go have a few beers so I can sleep better.”

Koskinen snorted. “Lucky boy.” Then he turned to look at Eskola. “You stay here.”

Eskola couldn’t conceal his disappointment, and Koskinen hurried to continue: “We need someone capable to stay here. What if we’re going on a wild goose chase, and the killer strikes again while we’re gone?”

Despite their transparency, Koskinen’s words did the trick—Eskola drew himself up in his chair and raised his chin. “Understood!”

Both Pekki and Kaatio’s cars were in the courtyard’s cramped parking lot. Koskinen could feel his legs getting progressively stiffer and struggled to keep up with the others. After the run he should have gone straight for a massage.

Kaatio wasn’t in a talking mood. He stared sullenly at the road, occasionally glancing in the
rearview
mirror to make sure Pekki was still behind him, and then hunching back over the steering wheel. It wasn’t until they were on the highway that he started unloading. “Any guesses about what’s eating me, Koskinen?”

“What?”

“Why the hell have you started mollycoddling Eskola?”

“Have I?”

“Come off it. You could even see it through cataracts. No matter what stupid crap he says, you’re right there defending him.”

That was exactly what Koskinen had been doing for the last few days, so he didn’t deny it. “Let me tell you something. But this is strictly confidential.”

“When have I ever run at the mouth?”

Tuesday morning flashed through Koskinen’s mind, when Kaatio had told Kangas and Havakainen about his intention to enter the Pirkka Trail Run. That information hadn’t been intended for public consumption either. But so what? It didn’t bother him anymore. On the contrary.

“Taru called me Thursday,” he began. “She made me swear not to tell anyone, but I’m making an exception with you because…”

Koskinen paused and thought about how to continue, and a wary glance from Kaatio made him falter. “Because we…you and me…are in the same boat when it comes to Taru…or maybe it would be better to say that we were both left on the same dock.”

Kaatio grumbled something and then stuck his nose almost against the windshield. Koskinen repeated, in detail, his phone conversation with Taru—how he’d been surprised about the charge of bullying, his feelings about the situation, and how he had decided to rectify it, at least for himself.

He turned to look at Kaatio. “Eskola is never going to set the world on fire, but how about we try to put up with him anyway?”

Kaatio sulked for another half mile, but then acquiesced. “Fine. But only because of Taru. And you gotta set some limits… You can’t start giving
all
the best jobs to him.”

Koskinen sighed in relief. “Of course not!”

They passed the Teisko Church, and Koskinen dug the driving directions out of his pocket. The road meandered through the fertile farming community. The sun was still high in the sky, emphasizing the color saturation of the autumn landscape. On the right side behind the fields and stands of trees Koskinen caught glimpses of the silvery, glimmering surface of a lake. This was Lake Kalentonjärvi, and their destination was located right at its easternmost corner.

A decommissioned, gray-brick transformer station was the first landmark Sundqvist had given. A couple of hundred yards ahead Koskinen spotted a large red threshing barn on the left and told Kaatio to slow down.

They turned right at the barn. The dirt road quickly narrowed and grew bumpy, with a slim strip of grass growing down the middle. A floppy-eared brown hare bolted off into a willow thicket. Shortly before the shore of the lake the road curved to the left, revealing summer cabins at irregular intervals. They were looking for the sixth cabin.

Koskinen caught sight of the
van from a distance, parked under a large silver birch. The leaves fallen from the tree had crocheted a mottled patchwork on the roof of the vehicle. Koskinen puffed up his cheeks and blew out in sheer relief. So he hadn’t
sent them on a wild goose chase;
a
t least someone was at the cabin.

Yet still he felt growing tension. This was all still just based on guesswork.

Kaatio parked on the other side of the birch tree. Corn chamomile was blooming white in the nearby meadow, and even a few multicolored butterflies defied the fall weather. Koskinen struggled over to the van and checked the license plate against his notes. He nodded
—i
t matched the one from DMV. Pekki had left his Corolla a little farther off, and Koskinen motioned for him to follow. They walked quietly, trying not to make any noise.

A six-foot wide grass path led to the cabin, winding through a thick spruce copse and ending at a small, idyllic yard. The moss-green cabin was right next to the
lake
. Farther up the slope the yard was demarcated by an oblong outbuilding, leaving a level grassy area in the middle with a swing, grill, and flower beds full of lupine. The abandoned doghouse had long since shaken off its last coat of paint.

With a small hand motion, Koskinen asked the others to wait. He climbed onto the veranda of the cabin and knocked on the paneled door. No answer. He tried the doorknob—it was unlocked. He disregarded all the basic police safety procedures and stepped inside without any protection. He couldn’t imagine that anyone there would be carrying anything more dangerous than a pillow.

No one was inside. The sun forced a narrow slice of light through the gap in the flowery curtains. Along the wall sat a wooden sofa bed and a narrow table in the middle of the room. On the table was a ceramic vase decorated with hearts of various colors and next to it was a sooty oil lamp that reeked of kerosene. On the right wall was a kitchen nook with a narrow counter and water bucket, saucepan, and gas burner.

Some heather with tiny flowers had been put in the vase, along with a bunch of white chamomile. One lay on the table—its petals had been plucked, as if someone had been chanting: he loves me, he loves me not, he loves me…