Cold Trail (30 page)

She didn’t make a sound.

Suhonen made it over to her and whispered
, “Police. Shhh.”

Despite his instructions, the woman immediately spoke, luckily at a whisper
, “That crazy man has my husband. He’s going to kill us.”

“S
tay calm,” Suhonen said, pulling his switchblade out of his pocket. He cut the ropes from the woman’s hands and legs.

“O
ut,” Suhonen ordered. “And quietly.”

H
e slipped his knife back into his pocket and took his pistol. The woman had made it to door when the living room lights blazed on. The sudden brightness momentarily dazed Suhonen. He noticed the woman pause.

“G
o!” he ordered.

“S
top!” a man yelled inside the house, but the woman ran out the back door.

Suhonen saw two men of approximately the same build, both dressed in black. One was wearing a suit, the other
pajamas. Suhonen recognized the one in front as Fredberg, chief justice of the Supreme Court, and the one in back as the escaped convict Repo.

“P
olice,” Suhonen announced loudly, aiming his weapon at Repo. “Stay calm.”

“K
iss my ass!” Repo shouted.

Only now did Suhonen notice the harness wrapped around Fredbe
rg; it
had been strung with light-brown tubes bearing red triangles. Explosives, probably dynamite. Electric wires led from the sticks to a detonator
in Repo’s hand.

“S
tay calm!” Suhonen shouted back. At least he had played for enough time to get the woman out of the house. “Everything’s all right.”

“I
’m going to blow him up!”

“I
f you do, I’ll shoot you.”

Repo
was surprised by the police officer’s aggressive stance. He began to laugh. “You’re tough for a cop!”

“T
imo Repo, this game ends now. Put the detonator on the floor and let him go.”

Repo
glanced at the pale Fredberg. “Look, judge, some folks even recognize me!”

Suhonen’s gun remained trained on
Repo. He could see Repo’s forehead through his sights; the escaped convict was less than thirty feet away. He would definitely die if Suhonen pulled the trigger. The problem was that Suhonen wasn’t sure about the detonation mechanism—often hostage-takers used devices where the bomb was set off not by pressing a switch, but by releasing it.

“Repo
, listen! This is your final chance. Let’s end this now.”

Repo
’s eyes drilled into Suhonen. “I don’t have any reason to die, but I don’t have any reason to live, either. If you want, I’m happy to end this now. You really want to?”

Suhonen’s finger gripped
tighter around the trigger. There was not an iota of give left. One tiny tug and the bullet would leave the barrel and pierce Repo’s forehead. But what about the detonation mechanism? The chances were about fifty-fifty. If Suhonen shot and releasing the button triggered the explosives, Suhonen would die too. The odds were on Repo’s side.

Repo
closed his eyes. “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”

Suhon
en had an impulse to rush for the door. That way maybe his legs would get lacerated, but he might save his head. He didn’t follow through on the impulse, though.

“Repo
, stop.” Suhonen lowered his weapon. Repo muttered something Suhonen couldn’t make out.

“
No one needs to die. Let’s just calm down here,” Suhonen said.

Repo
opened his eyes, his gaze was intense. He didn’t say a word.

“P
eace and love and all that,” Suhonen said. “If it’s okay with you, I’m going to head out that door, and we can talk more soon by phone.”

“Y
ou can’t leave,” Fredberg wailed.

Repo
smiled. “Listen to the judge, officer. He’ll slap you with a police misconduct conviction if you leave him here with me alone.”

Suhonen tried to lighten the mood. “Sure, I can stay. I don’t have anything against it. There’s probably some expensive cognac around here somewhere. Let’s light a fire, pop open a bottle, and watch a late-night talk show. But I’m going to keep this Glock in my pocket. Is that okay? Huh?”

“O
ut,” Repo ordered coldly. He was unsure about what to do, but he needed to get the police officer out of there no matter what. It felt like the simplest solution, since the woman had already slipped away.

Suhonen obeyed and
walked out the back door. He could have tried to stay inside, but he needed backup. As soon as he was on the patio, he broke into a run. He wondered where the chief justice’s wife had gone. He found Leena Fredberg out on the street in her nightgown, sobbing and shivering by the mailbox. Suhonen gave her his coat and started walking her down the snowy street to his car.

The undercover officer pulled out his phone and
called the Emergency Ops Center before he did anything else. The gist was that there was a hostage situation on Marina Road. An ambulance and lots of backup were needed on the scene.

The second call was to Takamäki, who
m he woke up. Suhonen informed his lieutenant that he had good news and bad news. The good news was that Repo had been found. The bad news was that he was holding the chief justice of the Supreme Court hostage.

Takamäki said he’d be there in fifteen minutes
.

Suhonen told him to dress warmly.

CHAPTER 19

THURSDAY, 2:05 A.M.

LAUTTASAARI, HELSINKI

“Briefing!” Takamäki growled. The lead van had room for four: Joutsamo, SWAT chief Turunen, and on-duty lieutenant
Helmikoski were inside with Takamäki. Joutsamo was sitting in the rear left at the computer, next to her boss. Turunen was across from her, and Helmikoski had spun the swiveling front seat backwards. The van’s sliding side door was open with Suhonen and a couple of uniformed sergeants standing outside; wet
snow was falling on them.

The van
was parked at the edge of the soccer field, where Takamäki had set up the command center. Four police vans were parked nearby. The target was less than a hundred yards away, behind a small grove of trees. About twenty officers from the cities of Helsinki, Espoo, and Vantaa were on the scene, and more were streaming in.

“S
uhonen, you start,” Takamäki said. “Tell us what happened.”

“S
ure,” Suhonen said from outside the van, wiping the snow from his beanie. “This evening I got a tip from the field that Repo might be inside this house. I came to check it out and entered through the back door, which had already been broken into. Fredberg’s wife was tied up in the living room, and I freed her before Repo and Fredberg came in. The wife escaped, and then Repo and I had a pretty intense
conversation.”

“H
ow intense?” Turunen asked.

“I
was looking at him through the sights of my Glock, and he had a detonator in his hand. The dynamite was strapped around the judge’s body, and I came to the conclusion that,
under the circumstances, I wouldn’t be able to bring the situation to a peaceful resolution.”

“G
ood call,” Turunen said.

“Y
eah, maybe. In any case, I got the woman out of the house. She was pretty hysterical, but I got the basics out of her. Repo had broken into the house and woken both of them in the bedroom. She didn’t have any idea who the intruder was, but it had turned out that he had something to do with her husband’s work. He repeatedly claimed to be innocent of some murder.”

“W
hat about the dynamite?” Turunen asked.

“S
lim, light-brown sticks that had been strung around Fredberg in some sort of harness. There were wires leading to the detonator in Repo’s hand.”

“W
hat sort of detonator?” Turunen continued, as an ambulance curved onto the field.

“G
uess how hard I was trying to figure that out while I had a bead on Repo’s forehead.”

“Y
ou didn’t see whether Repo was pressing a button or switch down or whether his finger was on top of it?”

Suhonen looked seriously at Turunen.
“If I would’ve been sure it wouldn’t go off when his finger was released from the switch, I would’ve taken the shot. Definitely. I didn’t dare take the chance, because that could’ve meant three bodies.”

Turunen nodded.
“Okay. Another good call. Did he have a firearm?”

“D
idn’t see one. The woman mentioned a knife, but he didn’t have it in his hand when I saw him.”

Turunen
continued his quizzing. “Was Repo drunk or high?”

“N
ot noticeably, at least.”

Joutsamo asked from the back seat
, “Where’s the wife now?”

“A
mbulance took her to the hospital. I don’t know which one.”

“Okay
,” Takamäki said. “And assess Repo’s state of mind for us.”

“H
mm, what could I say about that,” Suhonen said. “There were probably several pounds of dynamite on those harnesses, so I’d consider him really damn dangerous. He didn’t present any demands, so I’d assume this is some sort of vendetta. Did this Fredberg preside over Repo’s case?”

Joutsamo nodded in the back seat.
“Yeah. Fredberg was chair of the Kouvola appeals court when Repo was resentenced to life in prison.”

“So a
vendetta,” Turunen huffed. “Suicidal?”

Suhonen shrugged.
“The woman remembered him having said, ‘I don’t have any reason to die, but I don’t have any reason to live, either.’ And, he said the same thing to me, but he didn’t blow us up once I got the woman out of there, so in that sense we still might have a chance.”

“Okay
,” Takamäki said. “Suhonen, you can get out of here. We don’t need you anymore, and you can’t be involved, given your confrontation with Repo.”

Suhonen smiled.
“Hey, I’m not going to argue with you. So I can go take a hot shower now?”

Takamäki nodded, and Suhonen left. After a couple of steps, he stopped.
“Oh yeah, I think I’m going to head straight home and return the car tomorrow.”

“G
et out of here,” Takamäki said, turning to Joutsamo. “What’s your analysis of the situation?”

“T
hat was basically it. Repo sees Fredberg as having unjustly convicted him of murder. Repo’s father’s death triggered something, and whether he planned it or it was a momentary impulse, Repo decided to escape. Evidently Repo has been staying at his father’s neighbor’s Karppi’s place, who was found dead this morning. At the moment, we don’t know whether Repo was involved in Karppi’s death. We might want to remember that, at least based on my investigation, the guy could actually be innocent in this old case.”

Turunen looked at Joutsamo.
“You’re saying he might’ve been innocent and still was sentenced to life?”

“Q
uite possibly. Even likely,” Joutsamo said.

“A
nd he sat for eight years? Shit, he might be pretty goddamn bitter. If he’s actually sober in there, then the situation’s pretty bad.”

“T
he thing that makes it even worse is that thirty pounds of dynamite was stolen from a construction site after Repo’s escape and hasn’t been recovered. The explosives could well be from there. Thirty pounds makes a pretty big bang.”

Takamäki’s gaze circled his colleagues inside and outside the van.
“Okay. The chief justice is still alive, and Repo didn’t kill Suhonen either, so we might have some negotiating room. Does anyone have any other questions about the background?”

Everyone shook their heads. Outside, a few officers in uniform were hooking up a generator to the lead van and the other vehicles containing
all the hi-tech equipment. The team’s computers, radios, and other equipment devoured so much current that the vans weren’t able to generate it themselves, even with their engines running.

“G
ood. Like Turunen said, we’re up shit creek, but we’re going to make it through this. Helmikoski,” Takamäki said, turning toward the stout man. “What’s the situation now?”

The on-duty lieutenant pulled out a notebook from his breast pocket and flipped through it.
“The area has been almost fully cleared. Marina Road has been cordoned off at both ends, and the houses in the vicinity have been evacuated. A police boat has been called in to patrol the water, but it might take an hour or two to get here. So the area is relatively secure, although our command center might be a little too close. As I recall, at construction sites, the safety distance for two pounds of dynamite is about 200 yards, and now we’re less than a hundred yards from that house. And we have men a lot closer. Of course the building would block some of a blast, too.”