Cold Trail (24 page)

“A
nd had he reported it stolen earlier, he would’ve run the risk the whole time of the car being pulled over by the cops. Now they were able to scout out the fastest escape routes,” Nykänen mused. “With jobs like that, the most important thing is to get the haul out of the getaway car as fast as possible.”

“W
ho was driving it? Now that’s an interesting question,” Takamäki said, taking a sip of his coffee. He pulled out the Sello surveillance camera images from his drawer and showed them to Nykänen.

“Y
eah, well, I can’t make anything out from that, but it’s probably Manner or one of his lieutenants.”

“T
here’s one more problem.”

“W
hat?” Nykänen shot back.

“A
guy named Lauri Solberg over in Espoo is investigating this hit-and-run of Jonas’s, and evidently this car theft of Manner’s, too.”

Nykä
nen looked thoughtful. “Solberg? Never came across him during my narc days.”

“I
think he’s pretty new, but he knows I have these Sello photos.”

“H
ow’d come you’re the one who ended up with those anyway, not the investigator from Espoo?” Nykänen asked.

“I
went and picked them up from the Sello surveillance room. Espoo hadn’t thought of that.”

“Of course not.” Nykänen was smiling, but he also rubbed his forehead. “Under no circumstances do we want this Solberg to start digging into Manner’s car’s movements around Sello, because Sello is now the first, and, for the time being, only potential target we know about. If Solberg lets Manner know that we’re aware of his car’s movements there, they’ll drop the target immediately.”

“R
ight,” Takamäki said.

“W
e’ll set up stakeout teams at Sello right away, and it’d probably be best for me to get in touch with either Solberg or his boss, and have them drop their investigation of that hit-and-run pronto. If necessary, we could have all cases involving Manner transferred to the NBI for investigation.”

“R
ight,” Takamäki repeated.

“S
orry. I wouldn’t like it either if there wasn’t even an attempt to find out who was driving a car that hit my kid, but I’m sure you understand.”

Takamäki
laughed. “Of course I understand, but hopefully I don’t have to explain it to my wife. Because she’d ask what the police’s priorities are: property that’s covered by insurance, or physical injuries sustained by a human being? In any case, I’ll leave it in your hands.”

* * *

The sleet had started coming down again. It was colder now, and the flakes formed a layer of slush on the asphalt. Repo was walking along Malmi Curve toward the Kirkonkylä Road bridge that spanned the train tracks. He glanced backwards again, but the only person there was the woman pushing a dark blue baby carriage who had been there ten seconds before.

A
partment buildings rose to his right, and the train tracks ran to his left. Repo had wondered what to do. He couldn’t stay in Karppi’s house. The old man’s death was an accident, but of course no one would believe him. No one had listened to him the first time, either.

He had left
Karppi’s house and left the car on the street there. Maybe that was a mistake, but he wouldn’t go back now.

Repo
knew that he was innocent of his wife’s murder. Understanding that had taken him a couple of years. There’s no way he would have been able to slit Arja’s throat.

On the other hand,
he was sure that he wouldn’t have been capable of killing Karppi either, but it had still happened. Repo cursed the old man. Why did he have to go sticking his nose into Repo’s business? Everything had been set, but now it was all a huge mess again.

Repo
switched the bag over to his other shoulder and glanced backwards once more. Pain and exhaustion. Of course he had gotten used to it, but before he could go on, he had to get some sleep to clear his head. There was a headline about an escaped murderer on the front page of today’s
Iltalehti
. Maybe his photo was in there too, so Repo didn’t dare to buy the paper.

A few hours
’ sleep in some quiet spot and then the final preparations. After that he’d be ready. Where? Train, hotel, bus... Repo tried to come up with a quiet place, but couldn’t think of anything suitable. Repo arrived at the intersection and noticed an ad for the Eurokangas fabric shop on the light post.

Eurokangas?
That had been Juha’s nickname in the joint. He didn’t know anyone else who could help him. Maybe Saarnikangas—that was the guy’s real name—had a place where he could get a little sleep. Convicts were supposed to be loyal to their friends; that’s what Repo had understood.

H
e had taken Karppi’s cell phone and money, which of course made him a robber-murderer, but that didn’t matter now. Repo pulled out a small notebook from the breast pocket of his black suit and flipped to “Eurokangas.”

* * *

Takamäki was having lunch in the canteen at police HQ. Beef soup was in his bowl, milk filled his glass. Suhonen was sitting at the same table. Takamäki had tried to ask him about his relationship with Raija, but no dice. The undercover detective evidently
didn’t feel like talking about it—he had just grunted something that the lieutenant hadn’t been able to make out.

It was coming up on
one o’clock already, and there was plenty of room in the canteen. A few patrol officers in uniform walked in and over to the counter.

Takam
äki’s phone rang, and he saw that the caller was Joutsamo. “I’m eating, but tell me,” he answered.

“S
ome of us have time for lunch, huh?” Joutsamo said.

“W
ell?”

“
I dropped by Karppi’s place on the way back from Riihimäki. Thought I’d just ask him a few questions.”

“A
nd?” Takamäki stopped eating. He glanced at Suhonen, who began listening. “Did Karppi say anything?”

“N
o. And he never will.”

“D
ead?” Takamäki said.

“K
illed, I’d say. I went in, and he was lying there in the living room. There was a major fracture at the back of his skull.”

“D
ead, back of his head bashed in,” Takamäki repeated for Suhonen’s benefit. “Classic blunt object?”

“O
r corner of a table. I didn’t stay to investigate, so I wouldn’t contaminate the scene any more than Ialready had.”

“B
ut Karppi hadn’t slipped?”

“I
t’s possible, of course, but in that case I’d be interested in knowing who covered the body with a sheet.”

“O
kay, Okay,” Takamäki said. That was cause to suspect homicide, and the covering of the body indicated that the perpetrator knew the victim. “When?”

“L
ooked fresh. I felt his diaphragm, which already exhibited signs of rigor mortis. I’d guess an hour, two at most.”

“A
ny signs of Repo?”

“
Can’t say. I checked the body and got out of there. I called in a patrol unit and thought I’d check out the vicinity. Of course I also called into the Emergency Ops Center, so the search is already on, but could you get Forensics over here? Vallesman Road,” Joutsamo said, followed by the precise address.

Takamäki
promised to call Kannas. The manhunt for escaped convict Timo Repo would turn into a high-profile case the moment the media caught whiff of Repo’s being implicated in Karppi’s death.

Suhonen
heard the whole story, since Takamäki called Kannas next and explained what had happened.

“P
retty bad,” Suhonen said, once the call ended. He had finished his lunch. Takamäki’s soup had cooled in the bowl.

“Y
eah. Changes things.”

“D
id Repo want to get back at Karppi for something? He was his dad’s neighbor. Could there have been some schism between them?” Suhonen reflected. “Money? Some old grudge?”

Takamäki thought
Suhonen was asking the right questions. “Let’s not jump to any conclusions. Let’s see what Forensics turns up. We’re not even certain that Repo has been inside Karppi’s house.”

“W
anna bet?” Suhonen asked.

“N
o,” the lieutenant replied. “I want to eat my cold soup.”

Takamäki
managed to take two spoonfuls before his phone rang again. Suhonen smiled.

It
was Solberg from the Espoo Police.

“
Can you talk?” Solberg asked, like he normally did.

“
Eating lunch,” Takamäki replied in a tired voice.

“T
hen I can probably bother you for a second,” Solberg said aggressively.

Takamäki
disagreed, but he still answered, “Well?”

“T
hose surveillance camera images—when are you going to get them to me, and why the hell can’t you just email them?”

Goddammit,
Takamäki thought. How was he going to explain this one?

“W
hat’s the status of the forensic investigation of that car and the house?”

There was a momentary silence at the other end.

“How about you let me ask the questions. This is a crime being investigated by the Espoo Police, and you’re in possession of evidence we need. No doubt you’ve acquired those images lawfully, so it would be best if you’d deliver them here before we need to turn this into a bigger deal than it is.”

Takamäki tried to
calm him. “Listen, Solberg. Don’t forget to breathe.”

“A
re you fucking with me? If you want, I’ll get a warrant from my lieutenant, and we’ll come over to Pasila right this second.”

“T
ake it easy. You might not be grasping the whole picture here.”

“I
’m grasping it perfectly goddamn well. There’s something sketchy about this Manner case, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”

Takamäki
strongly doubted Solberg’s ability to do so, especially since he wasn’t going to be allowed to get involved. He tried to think of a way to calm the guy down. He glanced at Suhonen, who was pretending to concentrate on his coffee but was listening to every word.

Takamäki
came up with a solution that would at least buy him some time. “I’ll bring the photos in an hour, if nothing acute comes up in the manhunt.”

“I
’m glad you’re coming to your senses,” Solberg said victoriously. “I’ll wait.”

Takamäki
didn’t bother telling him he’d be waiting for a long time; he just hung up. Then he looked at Suhonen, who gestured at the coffee cup in front of Takamäki.

“
That’s still hot,” Suhonen smirked.

Takamäki
tasted his lukewarm soup and decided to leave the rest.

“T
hat was that guy from Espoo I was telling Nykänen about.”

Suhonen
nodded. “Somehow I figured.”

“T
he guy’s incorrigible. Hell, how can I explain something to him that I’m not allowed to talk about? He’ll probably suspect some conspiracy if he’s told to drop the case.”

“I
know the type,” Suhonen said, still smiling.

Takamäki
gave his grinning subordinate a questioning look.

“H
e’s just like you,” Suhonen said.

Takamäki
was stunned. “But when I...”

Suhonen
laughed out loud.

“G
oddammit,” Takamäki said, joining in the laughter.

“B
ut Suhonen, remember that we have an escaped convict on the loose who we have cause to suspect of another homicide.”

Suhonen
couldn’t stop laughing. “And a few beer thieves to find, too. It’s not easy being a criminal investigator. I should probably transfer to the Auto Theft unit.”

* * *

The forensic investigators were wearing white paper overalls. There had been no need to discuss tactics, because Joutsamo had
pronounced Karppi dead. Kannas had ordered a slow approach, which meant that the body would be examined last.

The
scene had been photographed starting from the door, and afterwards the investigators had started combing the floor inch by inch. Joutsamo’s footprints had been taken too, so they could later be distinguished from those of any potential suspects. Kannas knew that Joutsamo’s DNA sample was already in the database, so it would also be possible to look it up later. Joutsamo had said that she had only touched the door, the sheet covering the deceased, and the deceased himself.