Wolves and Angels (47 page)

A quick glance around revealed nothing that told of Hannu Ketterä having ever been there. Koskinen went back out on the veranda. At the end of it was another door leading into the sauna. He peered in there as well and got a nose full of the smells of birch twigs and burned leaves. He tested the side of the wood-fired water heater and quickly yanked his hand back—it was still hot.

He turned back into the narrow dressing room. A towel rack had been made on the wall out of a split, debarked tree trunk. The branch stumps had been left as pegs. There were towels and clothing hanging from them. At a quick glance they all looked like they belonged to a woman. Koskinen was about to turn to leave, but something suddenly made him stop.

A narrow counter had been attached to the wall at the end of the dressing room, and the cloth that covered it hung almost to the floor. But not quite. Through the narrow strip left between the tablecloth and the floor, Koskinen saw a piece of smooth black rubber. Koskinen raised the tablecloth and whistled. A lightweight folding wheelchair had been pushed under the counter.

He made sure not to
touch it. It would have to be moved to the car in a plastic bag. If Ketterä didn’t turn up soon and the case grew much more complicated, they would have to have Forensics do a thorough analysis of it, just like on
Timonen
’s chair a few days before.

He went back outside and reported his find. Now Pekki sang his praises openly: “Holy hell, you were right! But where have Salonen and Ketterä disappeared to?”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Koskinen said, looking around. “They’re not on the lake, at least.”

A green fiberglass
rowing
boat holding an empty fish trap waited on the shore. The lake was narrow at that point, and nearby there was
a
river full of reeds that emptied into it. Probably a lot of fish, Koskinen thought, and as if in answer he spotted a c
anoe gliding through the reeds with a
bearded man
and
a fifteen-year-old boy behind him. The man was paddling with long, leisurely strokes, and the boy was dragging a trolling line. A black-throated loon dove in front of the
canoe
to get out of the way and appeared a moment later on the other side of the little inlet.

Ulla suddenly broke the silence. “Take a gander over there.”

The men looked where Ulla was pointing—a woman was approaching from the woods behind the cabin carrying a bucket. Koskinen recognized her immediately as Anniina Salonen. She was dressed in form-fitting knit clothing. The outfit emphasized her powerful physique. Her shoulders were wide and the muscles in her arms were beefy. An image of a world champion javelin thrower from years back came to Koskinen’s mind.

Salonen lengthened her steps after noticing the police standing in the yard. They had all been to Wolf House several times, and Salonen had met them all.

“Have you found Hannu?” she asked when she was still twenty yards out. She reached them,
and
stopped, winded, and looked at Koskinen. “Just don’t tell me that something has happened to him!”

“We don’t know where Ketterä is. We were actually just looking for him.”

“Here?”

“Yes.”

“What would he be doing here?”

Koskinen looked at her probingly. She looked genuinely confused. But Koskinen thought he was sensing something—perhaps her last question had been presented just a little too eagerly.

Salonen’s hair was covered by a red scarf. A few pine
needles
and
some fuzzy gray
moss were stuck
in it.

“What were you doing in the forest,” Koskinen asked confrontationally.

Salonen showed her empty bucket. “Hunting for mushrooms. But I didn’t find any. It’s just too dry.”

Koskinen felt like sitting down. His legs were aching—the pain was radiating all the way up into his hips. All of a sudden he had had enough small talk.

“Cut the crap,” he snapped. “Are you saying that Hannu Ketterä hasn’t been here?”

“Of course not,” Salonen answered, her eyes wide. “In the summer he was here pretty regularly. This is Hannu’s parents’ old cabin.”

“How did you end up owning it?”

“Hannu had heard that the cabin was for sale again. And I’d been looking for a summer place like this for a while already. I had twenty thousand euros stashed away, and the bank lent me the rest. I bought the place in July.”

Koskinen pointed at the path that lead to the road.

“And the van?”

“It’s my dad’s. He retired from his painting job this summer, and said I could use the van until the end of August.”

“We’re impounding it for forensic analysis.”

“Why?”

Koskinen noticed a slight uncertainty in her eyes, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Anyone would be caught off guard, having to give their car for a criminal investigation. He didn’t bother answering her question—it was too early to reveal their suspicion that the car had been used to transport Raimo
Timonen
the previous week. Either alive or dead.

Pekki took a turn at the questioning: “When did Hannu Ketterä visit here last?”

Salonen thought for a few seconds before answering. “Three weeks ago. We celebrated his birthday here, just the two of us. He just turned thirty-three.”

“So how do you explain the wheelchair in the dressing room?”

Salonen tossed her hair back. “Oh, that. That’s Hannu’s backup chair. I left it in my van last weekend. I had just taken him out to the Kaanaa Speedway races.”

Pekki pulled his shoulders back in a position that said he didn’t believe a word of it. “What is it doing in the sauna dressing room?”

“The wheels got dirty next to the racetrack. It was raining and there was mud everywhere,” she explained naturally, without batting an eyelash.

This shut Pekki up, and neither Kaat
io nor Ulla had anything to say
. They all looked at Koskinen curiously, and he started to hesitate as well. Nothing in her statements supported his theory. There was nothing strange in Salonen buying herself a summer cabin and choosing it based on the recommendation of a friend.

Even her explanation about the wheelchair sounded plausible. She had put Ketterä into another wheelchair and put the muddy one in her van. What better place for cleaning it than in a sauna?

Koskinen could feel the exhaustion rising from his feet through his body in a sudden wave of despair. Had they just hit a dead end again, and was the investigation just as open as it had been that morning before the race?

He looked at Salonen’s strongly-built face, the honey-blonde curls of hair on her brow, and the pine needles in the scarf covering her head. And then he realized where they would find Hannu Ketterä. And it couldn’t be far
from where they were standing.

28.

Koskinen began walking with purposeful steps. He looked for the same path which Anniina Salonen had used
just
a moment earlier. The trail led to a gentle slope covered with pines, and immediately several bright yellow chanterelles jumped out at him. The mushrooms made him even more sure of himself. He forgot the aching in his thighs, and the attacks of the deer flies no longer bothered him.

Koskinen could hear the snapping and rustling of twigs and branches behind him—Salonen had charged after him.

“What are you looking for?”

“Oh, I’m just looking for mushrooms,” Koskinen answered good-naturedly. “Where
’
d you leave your bucket?”

“There n
o
thing here!” she shrieked in alarm. “You aren’t going to find anything!”

Koskinen pushed on, ignoring Salonen’s sudden panic. He looked around carefully, taking note of every stump, juniper thicket, and tussock of moss.

It was easy to find when you knew what to look for—otherwise you
would
walk right past it
.
The terrain rose gently but steadily, finally ending in a vertical wall. Ketterä had chosen the location cunningly. It was partially invisible behind a boulder a couple of yards wide and tall. All that betrayed it was a single stout log protruding from the brush. Many would have taken the log for any other pine tree blown down by the wind and stripped of its bark by rodents and beetles. However, Koskinen quickly recognized it as the top sill of the hideout. Otherwise the roof was completely covered by moss and heather. The door opening was also camouflaged behind dense fir branches, making it almost unnoticeable.

Koskinen stopped and heard Salonen’s heavy breathing behind him. It wasn’t hard to hear the despair and anxiety in it. However, Koskinen had to check his nerves—he was just about to shout for Ketterä to walk out with his hands behind his head, but at the last second
managed to stop himself.

He turned to Salonen and demanded, “We both know that Hannu is in there. Do I need to go in and get him, or do you want to do it yourself?”

Salonen broke down completely. She shook her head back and forth, groaning in agony, “There’s nothing in there, nothing, nothing…”

Koskinen started walking resolutely
toward
the entrance of the dugout. But he didn’t make it two steps before she had rushed past him, almost knocking him over.

“Let me go!”

One of the spruce trees covering the opening was loose. It had been moved there recently, as its needles were still green. Salonen threw the small tree aside, crawled into the dugout, and then Koskinen began hearing bits of a tearful conversation. He couldn’t make out individual words though.

Ulla had come up beside Koskinen and their arms brushed each other. “How did you know?”

“Ketterä’s dad told me all sorts of things about this place yesterday. For example that Hannu loved spending time at the cabin
,
and that when he was just fifteen he built this hideout.”

“But
how
did
that
happen
to
come
to
you
just now?”

“From the pine needles in Salonen’s scarf.”

Ulla poked Koskinen in the ribs and laughed. “You’re one hell of a wizard.”

They watched as Anniina Salonen crawled butt first out of the dugout. She kneeled next to the opening and waited, in all her awkwardness looking more vulnerable than any cornered forest creature ever had.

Hannu Ketterä appeared from the moss and branches, resembling a fairytale character—the red hair, mustache, and pointed beard made him look like an oversized gnome from a magical forest. He dragged himself out of the dugout using his elbows and then lay on the ground. A spider confused by the light scurried across the back of his blue tracksuit.

Salonen turned Ketterä around, slipped her left arm under his shoulders, and grabbed his rear end with her right. She thrust upward from her squat, and Ketterä wrapped both of his arms tightly around her neck.

Koskinen heard Ulla’s dismayed exhalation beside him. Pekki and Kaatio, who had just walked up, were just as astonished, and Koskinen knew the sight would stick in his mind for a
very
long time.
Actually, n
one of them would ever forget this moment.

Salonen stood there for a few long seconds with Ketterä in her arms. She stared at the police defiantly and then finally huffed, “Are we going, or what?”

Koskinen nodded. Pekki and Kaatio started walking ahead with Koskinen and Ulla pulling up the rear, Salonen walking in between, leaning back a bit under her load. It was two hundred feet back to the cabin, and Koskinen asked if she needed any help. She shook her head and lengthened her stride.

Koskinen thought over how events had progressed. Apparently Salonen had heard the sound of their vehicles and quickly carried Ketterä to the hideout. A wheelchair could never have navigated the path. Maybe they had planned it all in advance—the police might very well find bedding and provisions for several days in the shelter. If his father hadn’t unwittingly let it slip, Ketterä’s whereabouts could have remained a permanent mystery. At least until the police brought the search dogs.

In the yard was a hammock made of synthetic canvas stretched between two birch trees
, and
Salonen set Ketterä down in it. Carrying him did seem
to have worn her out after all, but s
he stumbled a few steps to the side and fell to her knees. Her shoulders began to shake uncontrollably. As was her way, Ulla rushed over to comfort Salonen. She crouched down next to her and laid a hand on her shoulder.

Koskinen, Kaatio, and Pekki gathered around the hammock. It was the strangest scene of an arrest Koskinen could remember.

“You probably know what’s going to happen now.”

Ketterä stared at Koskinen with his eyes narrowed and asked, “What?”

“You are being arrested on suspicion of two murders.”