Fatal Headwind (32 page)

The only pair of boots I had found in the equipment room was a couple of sizes too big, but they were better than nothing. When I arrived, I pulled them on and went tromping across the lawn of the beautiful Art Nouveau house. Just hearing the name “Villa Elfvik” provoked romantic memories, since Antti and I had held our wedding there. That had been in December and the trees had carried a glaze of frost. Now they were still cloaked in leaves, even though some had started to fall. The nature paths appeared as if they had been painted with a mixture of turmeric and tomato sauce.

Tapio Holma wasn’t anywhere close to being the only bird-watcher standing in the marsh. I counted about ten. Holma had an expensive-looking spotting scope. I waded toward him carefully, even though the flock of ducks was about a hundred yards away and didn’t seem to care about the humans watching them. Holma had a handy backpack that could be transformed into a stool. A thermos poked out of one pocket.

“Hi,” I said quietly, but Holma still gave a start.

“Hi. Aren’t they wonderful? It’s even better through the scope.” Holma adjusted the height of the tripod for me. Some of the birds were pure white with a little black on their backs and others were a more modest brown. The handsome white ones were probably the drakes—that’s how it always was in the avian world. Once I’d argued with Harri that men were attracted to ornithology because it satisfied their natural instinct to prance around dressed in feathers.

“What I wanted to talk to you about actually relates to birds,” I said once I’d admired the sea ducks. “You said you didn’t know Harri Immonen, but you were members of the same bird-watching club, Espoo Birding.”

Holma, who had been looking out at the bay, turned to me with surprise in his eyes.

“Were we? But I really didn’t know him. I am a member of Espoo Birding, but I don’t go to events very often. I’ve spent most of my time in Germany the past few years.”

“Yes, but you were both members of the club for more than ten years, and Harri was well-known in ornithology circles. Think harder.”

One of the white drakes suddenly took wing and flew toward the shore. Tapio moved behind the scope, turned it to the bird, and stared.

“The patterning of his bill is fantastic. Do you want to look?”

“Thanks, but no. I met with Jiri Merivaara on Friday. He said your relationship with Riikka is over. Apparently Riikka suspects you of murdering her father.”

Turning, Holma bumped the scope, but he managed to right the tripod at the last second. When he looked at me, his face wasn’t boyish anymore.

“Jiri is talking garbage. No one has left anyone. Our relationship may be on hold, but Juha’s death doesn’t have anything to do with it. Of course Jiri wants me to be guilty of Juha’s murder instead of his mother or Mikke.”

Tapio Holma bent down to adjust the scope and then looked through it again. A male smew was racing with a dark-gray crow in the bright-blue autumn sky. When the white and dark gray met the brilliant yellow trees onshore, the hue of their feathers was even more pure than against the blue.

“In the fall, bird sightings become even more important. In the summer their calls almost get lost in each other. But in October even the cawing of a crow can sound like a serenade,” Holma said quietly. “The spring migration is a wonderful time too, of course, when the world bursts into song, but for some reason I’ve always been more interested in the fall migration.”

“So Riikka ended your relationship. Why?”

Holma turned the scope on me, the gesture seeming at once childish and threatening. I pushed the scope aside because I wanted to see Tapio Holma’s face when he answered.

“Isn’t it easy to guess? Riikka said I’m too old for her. And she said I’d leave her anyway after I get my voice back. The doctors are sure the surgery is going to work and that by next spring my vocal chords will be back to normal. I’m just not sure I want to go back to the hell of competing over every job and the stress of squeezing myself into each role. Seija Saarela claims my voice gave out because the rest of me was tired of singing. Maybe she’s right.”

Holma ran his hand through his hair, seeming frustrated.

“Although I’ve always known this wouldn’t last forever. A twenty-one-year age difference is a lot, even though I think we could’ve overcome it. But Riikka is so unexperienced. She hasn’t even really dated before. I don’t mean I took Riikka’s virginity, but almost . . .” Holma blushed. “Maybe after Suzanne Riikka felt fresh and different, and I was acting like a schoolboy too . . .”

“I guess we all become young again when we fall in love. So you’re going for the operation?”

“Yes. I’m leaving for California as soon as you say I can.”

I couldn’t picture Holma as the Machiavellian avenger infiltrating the Merivaara family because of Harri, but I also couldn’t clear him of suspicion. Maybe he had continued the fight about Riikka during the night.

“Apparently you suffered an injury to your arm on the night of the murder. Can I see it?”

Holma glanced at me in irritation and then pulled up his sleeve. The bruise on his ulna was barely visible now.

“So you talked to Riikka. Don’t believe her. I got this bruise when Juha whacked me with a ladle in the sauna.”

“Riikka claims you didn’t have it when you had sex later that night.”

“Riikka didn’t notice. I don’t feel like going into details, but it was dark then.”

“So it’s your word against hers.”

“Is that where we are now?” Holma asked sadly and then looked through the scope again. I didn’t answer; instead I walked deeper out into the reeds and stared at the bay. It would have been nice to stay and spend the rest of that sunny October day in the Elfvik marsh, but my cell phone reminded me of reality. Koivu needed an arrest warrant. I had to get back to the station.

I bumped into Taskinen in the parking garage.

“Did you have a good weekend?” he asked solicitously, presumably remembering my outburst at the graffiti meeting on Friday.

“I was able to get my mind off of work, if that’s what you mean.”

We walked through the doorway into the stairwell at the same time, knocking against each other. I smelled the restrained scent of Taskinen’s aftershave and felt the toned muscles of his arms through our coats. I had always enjoyed his touch, and at first this had made me feel guilty, especially when I realized that the attraction went both ways. Gradually I had learned to treat the feeling as a gift: it was nice that there was someone at work I could count on for a proper hug if I needed some extra strength.

“Ström’s brother called yesterday. He tried to get hold of you too but couldn’t.”

“I didn’t have my cell.”

“They decided to have a quiet funeral like Pertti wanted, but they still hoped his closest colleagues could attend. The brother has a bad heart and their father is very sick, so they asked if we could supply the pallbearers. Pertti didn’t really have friends. The written invitations will be coming later this week.”

“We’ll have to look at our shifts. I’ll ask the guys who can make it. Lähde for sure, and Hirvonen from Forensics, since Ström used to drink with them. Will the funeral be this weekend?”

“No, next week. I can be one of the pallbearers. How are things going with a replacement?”

The elevator stopped at my floor, and Taskinen lingered, holding the door open. We chatted for a minute about how best to handle the vacant position.

When I reached my office, I noticed a fax from Corsica on my desk. Peders and Ramanauskas had been found at the Calvi guest marina, and the local police wanted to know what to ask them once they found an interpreter who knew German. For a moment I indulged a daydream of flying to Corsica. It was probably still summer there. Then I typed up a list of questions in English, all the while wondering how their content would change when they were translated into French and then German. I simply wanted to find out why Mare Nostrum had been set up and what its line of business was. I also sent a copy of the label from the paint can Jiri had found and requested that they ask what Peders and Ramanauskas knew about it.

I didn’t have time to eat lunch before I left to meet with Anne Merivaara. I fervently hoped that she would offer me tea and more of those carrot scones. My blood sugar was so low that I felt dangerous in traffic, so I stopped at a convenience store for a candy bar even at the risk of being late. I arrived at four minutes past two, and Paula Saarnio was waiting in the lobby to bring me upstairs.

“Mrs. Merivaara is still in conference with her lawyer. She asked that you wait for fifteen minutes. Would you like some tea?”

Of course I said yes, thank you. Apparently Paula Saarnio had been ordered to keep me company, because two cups and a platter of feta-spinach quiche were waiting on her table. I wolfed down half of a large piece before I realized I should take advantage of the situation and ask what she knew about Peders and Ramanauskas.

“Oh, the Lithuanians we never paid dividends to.” Saarnio’s expression was amused. “Heikki and I, I mean Mr. Halonen, our CFO, and I wondered about that more than once, especially in recent years when the company could actually pay dividends. Mare Nostrum’s account always remained untouched.”

“But you knew who the secret shareholders were, unlike Mr. Halonen and Anne Merivaara.” Evidently my tone was sharp, because Paula Saarnio glanced at me in surprise.

“Yes, I knew, even though the deal was made before I was hired. Juha let it slip one night after drinking with clients. Anne and Juha gave a presentation on the company’s environmental goals, and then the customers were fed and liquored into a stupor. Anne came down with a fever and went home, but Juha asked me to stay and empty the last bottle of champagne with him. He raised a glass to the big show and laughed about what the customers would say if they knew that the whole eco-line was funded with money from a very different kind of paint. Then I think he was scared about what he’d said and explained that he’d just meant paint from his father’s time.”

Paula Saarnio leaned back in her chair and crossed her long legs. The creases of her pinstripe pants were immaculate.

“What did he mean by that?”

“Well, the paints the company made back in Martti Merivaara’s time were full of lead. They used it to keep the bottoms of the boats clean. I probably would have believed Juha if the fax machine hadn’t started printing right then. I went to get it, and it was from Ramanauskas. The next load was due ashore on Saturday. When Juha realized that I had read the fax, which was for his eyes only, he had a hard time coming up with an explanation. Finally he said that it was just about a deal with his shareholding company and that after a few more arrangements he would be able to buy all the Merivaara Nautical stock back from Mare Nostrum. That was when I started suspecting that the shares had been sold to Mare Nostrum as part of some sort of scam.”

Frowning, I wished that Kantelinen had been with me.

“Some sort of scam? What do you mean?”

“Several years ago the company needed more capital, but Juha didn’t want to sell shares to outsiders. Maybe Mare Nostrum was a front company, and Peders and Ramanauskas were paying Juha for a share in something else entirely.”

Just then the door to the CEO’s office opened. Anne Merivaara led out a gray-haired gentleman with an expensive-looking three-piece suit and a pocket-watch chain that had to be twenty-four-karat gold. Anne looked as if she’d been crying.

“Just one more moment,” she said to me and then asked Saarnio to escort out the man she called Mr. Heikkilä. I hoped Saarnio would return before Anne, but Anne only took a minute powdering her nose. When she came back, the signs of her tears had disappeared.

“I’m sorry you had to wait. Is there any news?”

“Yes, actually, quite a lot. For example, we have the names of the Mare Nostrum shareholders. Your husband, Juha, was the primary shareholder. Do you still want to claim you had no knowledge of these arrangements?”

“None.” Anne tried to sound confident, but the muscles in her face twitched. “Apparently there were a lot of things I didn’t know about, for instance that the boat was completely paid for, even though Juha told me we still owed half of it and that last fall, after that first heart attack, he took out the most expensive life-insurance policy he could, given his health history. As if he sensed he was leaving soon.”

“Is that speedboat in Juha’s name rather than the company’s?” I asked quickly, because tears were filling Anne’s eyes.

“It’s in my name, and I don’t know where the money came from to pay for it. We should have had . . .”

“There are probably a lot of things about the company that are different than you imagined. What do you intend to do with the company? Sell it?”

“I don’t know if I want to sell, but what if Riikka and Jiri intend to keep their shares? Juha wouldn’t have wanted us to sell, which is why he took out that life insurance. I asked Mikke to consider taking over as CEO, even though I knew it was hopeless. Heikki Halonen would be interested, but I don’t trust him.”

“So what do you want to do?”