The Defenceless (20 page)

I don’t even want the sea. I want to get away. Somewhere. Anywhere.

‘
Szia, itt az Anna
,’ she greeted Gabriella, who giggled upon hearing Anna’s voice.

‘Szia, Anna. Hogy vagy?’

‘I’m pretty busy. Some new information has come to light about the death of Vilho Karppinen.’

‘Well?’

‘It seems he was very likely already dead when you ran over him.’

‘Really? Well … oh my goodness … That’s great! Oh God, should I even say that?’

‘This is unofficial for the moment. We still have to verify a few matters.’

‘Brilliant! I was so worried I’d never be able to go home, that I’d have to stay here forever.’

‘Think back to the time of the accident. Can you remember exactly what position he was lying in before you hit him?’

‘I’ve already told you. He was across the road on his side, facing towards me.’

‘Did you see anyone else further down the road?’

‘I can’t remember.’

‘Did you see any oncoming cars at all?’

‘I really don’t know. I don’t think so. It was so dark.’

‘Are you absolutely sure? This is very important.’

‘There was traffic in town, of course, but once I got out into the woods I don’t remember seeing anyone at all. How did he die? Why was he lying in the road?’

‘I can’t tell you any details as the investigation is still pending, but the charges against you will be dropped regardless.’

‘Was it a heart attack?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you.’

‘Anna,
légy szíves
,’ Gabriella whined. ‘I’m dying of curiosity.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘We had such a good time last night.’

‘That was a private matter; this is a work matter. Try and understand.’

‘All right then,’ said Gabriella, disappointed. ‘Shall we meet up at the weekend? I’d like to show you some photos from home.’

‘I’m probably going to be working all weekend.’

‘I should have guessed. You know, sometimes I think you’re downright jealous of me.’

‘And why’s that?’

‘Because I’ve got a family and a home, a place to go back to.’

‘So do I,’ Anna replied, somewhat baffled.

‘Do you? Do you really? The same way I do?’ asked Gabriella pointedly.

‘Yes!’ Anna shouted.

‘Where exactly? Yugoslavia? Serbia?’

‘I’m not listening to this rubbish any more. Don’t call me again.’

Anna hung up. Her heart was beating in her chest, and she noticed she was out of breath. Then she hurled her phone to the floor. The back cover sprung off and the battery slid along the waxed floor and stopped beneath her desk. Anna ran into the toilet but wouldn’t allow herself to cry.

The police had ordered round-the-clock surveillance at Hazileklek. In practice this meant a security firm checking the building every hour and a civilian police officer visiting the restaurant’s forecourt once a day. Nobody had seen or heard anything of the blackmailers. Still, Maalik and Farzad were on their guard. Despite Maalik’s objections, Farzad had bought a baseball bat and placed it behind the counter, on a stand he’d cobbled together. Isn’t that going a bit too far? Maalik had asked. This sort of thing only happens in films. That’s where I learnt this little trick, Farzad answered and tested to see how quickly he could grab the bat. Anna walked across town to meet the Afghan men. She wanted to tell them of Sammy’s confession; after all, they were the only so-called normal people with whom Sammy had any contact. The temperature had risen rapidly throughout the day. A warm breeze blew in from the south, rooks gathered in the trees outside the town hall and melting snow soaked her shoes.

‘Hello, Anna, come on in,’ Farzad greeted her, though not as jovially as usual. ‘Would you like some food?’

‘I could have a cup of tea. Mint, please, if you have any,’ she replied, took off her coat and scarf and hung them on the coat rack.

‘Yes, we do. I’ll make some. Maalik, Anna is here,’ Farzad shouted on his way into the kitchen.

Maalik appeared in the dining room. He looked tired. The understated style and tidiness, so characteristic of both men, had not entirely disappeared, but a small crack seemed to have ripped
through it. Their jaws were dark with stubble, bags had appeared beneath their eyes and the worry lines across their brows had deepened.

‘How have you been coping?’ Anna asked.

‘Not very well. Customers don’t like the security guard here all the time. It make the place seem unsafe. The customers can sense it.’

The dining room was almost empty. Only two tables were occupied: one by a young family, father, mother and two school-aged children, and the other by a couple talking intensely over a bottle of wine.

‘Things will get better once we sort out these gangs,’ Anna tried to comfort him, though she realised that at that moment nothing could have comforted Maalik. ‘The main thing is that they haven’t shown up here.’

‘Have you arrested them yet?’

‘A few. We are constantly trying to disrupt their operations, patrol squads stop certain cars and certain people and we’ll organise a house search for the smallest offence. We know who the ringleaders are, so we’ll soon sort things out.’

‘We are afraid. They see that this place is being watched. They will take revenge.’

‘If they see that the restaurant is guarded, they won’t dare do anything,’ said Anna, though she doubted this herself.

‘They will attack us at home. That’s what we are afraid of.’

‘It won’t be long before we’ve got them all rounded up,’ said Anna. ‘Then there will be nothing to worry about.’

If only that were the case, she thought. And even if they managed to wipe out the Black Cobras, there were still the Hell’s Angels, the Bandidos, United Brotherhood and the rest of them. The threat would never go away completely. But this she didn’t say to Maalik.

Farzad came out of the kitchen carrying a pot of steaming mint tea. He poured cups for everyone and sat down to join them. The tea was sweet and fresh.

‘The reason I’ve come is because I want to talk about Sammy,’ said Anna.

‘Poor boy. Have they filed his appeal yet?’

‘Probably, but I’m afraid it’s unlikely to change anything at this point.’

‘Why?’

‘Sammy has confessed to two counts of murder.’

‘What?’ the men gasped almost at once. They began speaking hurriedly in Farsi, shaking their heads and gesticulating frantically.

‘This cannot be true,’ Maalik said eventually. ‘We don’t believe this for one minute.’

Anna had hoped to hear something like this.

‘Why not?’ she asked.

‘Sammy is a good boy, very polite. He would not hurt even a fly.’

‘He is also a drug addict, and drug addicts will do almost anything to get their hands on more drugs.’

‘Not Sammy. For sure not. He has worked for us, cleaning, washing dishes, little things. The cash register is right there, always open, but we are never missing a penny,’ said Maalik.

‘Our wallets are always in the staffroom. Sammy could have stolen money any time, but he never did,’ Farzad continued.

‘And don’t drug addicts normally steal – not kill?’ asked Maalik. ‘Sammy doesn’t even steal.’

‘That’s true,’ said Anna. ‘But he told us himself that he killed those two men.’

‘Who did he killed?’

‘Kill,’ Anna corrected him and regretted it instantly. As a child she’d always been infuriated whenever people corrected her Finnish. ‘One was an elderly man and the other was a young substance abuser. Both victims lived in the same building.’

‘And why he kill them?’

‘Because of a row over drugs. One of them, at least.’

‘We cannot believe this is true. Sammy is always very polite and respectful. He is not a killer.’

‘If he is found guilty, will he stay in Finland?’ Farzad asked suddenly.

‘Convicted felons are generally deported,’ Anna replied.

‘Sammy does not know this. That’s why he is lying. He doesn’t want sent home, where he will be killed.’

‘Or perhaps that’s precisely why he killed those people,’ said Anna.

Esko was sitting in a civilian car parked outside Ruiskukkatie 10 in Rajapuro. The building rising like a grey box in front of him was home to a member of Reza’s gang, and Naseem suspected her son might be hiding out there. Esko had been sitting in the car for two and a half hours, but nothing had happened. He still hadn’t told Virkkunen about the warning his informant had given him, or anyone else for that matter, because if he did he would almost certainly be taken off the case and possibly even moved into hiding for a while. He didn’t believe he was in any serious danger, and besides, he wanted to bring Reza in by himself. We’ve already managed to put a spanner in the bastard’s works, Esko surmised. The confiscation of the drugs in Halttu’s apartment will have been a huge setback both to the Angels and the Cobras. Halttu was mixed up in a dangerous game; it’s no wonder he got himself killed. And no matter what Anna says, the Paki kid killed the old boy and he’s probably one of the Cobras’ dealers. We’ve arrested three wogs in raids and confiscated their office equipment, so they’ll be feeling the heat, he thought to himself but didn’t feel any sense of satisfaction.

I am sick to death of this job, thought Esko. He felt a chill, though the Webasto car heater was switched on. He looked up at the dark windows on the second floor and waited for someone, Reza or his friend, for anyone to arrive. From time to time he smoked a cigarette in the car, only opening the window slightly. He tried to sense the feelings in his chest and listen to the sound of his breathing. Nothing. He felt normal. His little episode must simply have been because he was out of shape. Maybe I really should cut back on the smokes, he thought and flicked his half-smoked cigarette out of the window. There was nobody in the yard. Esko yawned. He thought of the advertisement still waiting for him in his bookmark browser.
Should I ask Naseem about conditions in these camps, he thought, just out of curiosity? Naseem probably knew a fair bit about security and safety at these camps. She was a smart woman and she’d worked there herself. He couldn’t see himself working in a refugee camp, but what harm could there be in asking? Still, he had to admit that there was something very attractive about the idea, something different. We should help people, that’s for sure, but we should help them in their own countries, where the need for help is most acute. That’s precisely what he could do. He still had time to experience something completely new. Or did he? He’d thought like this once before and managed to screw his life up once and for all. Maybe I should get that cardiograph done after all. Just to be on the safe side.

Esko waited in Rajapuro until midnight and only smoked one more cigarette, and as nobody had yet turned up at the apartment he started the car and drove home. On the way he stopped in at a petrol station open round the clock. Two large trucks were parked outside. A man was filling his old, metallic-grey Fiat with extortionately priced petrol; a few night owls sat inside flicking through the tabloids, truck drivers on their obligatory breaks. The station’s bright-orange interior stung Esko’s tired eyes. He wondered whether he would ever buy anything here during the daytime. There were at least three counters, which made the layout seem confusing. Thankfully only one of them was open at night. There was ten centimetres of thick brown liquid at the bottom of the coffee pot; Esko poured it into a paper cup, picked an old and dry-looking white roll with cheese from the vitrine, went to the counter and paid. He pressed a lid on to the cup and decided to drive home and eat there.

As he stepped outside, Esko noticed that between the trucks on the forecourt a large SUV had appeared, a brand-new Kia Sorento. Its lights were switched off and its windows were so dark that he couldn’t see inside. Esko’s heart began to thump. Nobody had come into the station after him. He surreptitiously tried to get a look at the vehicle’s registration as he walked past, but the plates were covered in snow and mud. It was hard to take out his keys while holding his
roll and coffee cup; he had to put the cup on the ground, the roll fell next to it. Esko snatched it up and stuffed it in his pocket, and just then the SUV’s engine revved into life, it’s over-the-top set of lights flicked on and shone right at him. Esko managed to open the door and quickly sat in the car. By now his heart was racing. I’m going to have a heart attack, he thought, turning the ignition and speeding away from the petrol station, his wheels spinning in the slush. The SUV began to follow him, but at the first intersection turned in the opposite direction. Esko took a few extra detours before returning home, but he couldn’t see the car anywhere.

For Christ’s sake, that snitch is turning me into a madman with all his nonsense, Esko thought, sitting in his darkened kitchen. He didn’t want to switch on the lights. He opened a can of beer, lit a cigarette and realised he’d left the cup of coffee on the ground in the station forecourt. He peered out of the window into the empty yard. Only his neighbours’ familiar cars stood in the floodlit car park, waiting for morning, for their owners to leave for work. The yard was quiet and sleepy. The Kia Sorento was nowhere to be seen.

‘SAMMY?’

‘What?’

The cell was bright. The light wasn’t coming from the windows, because there were none, but from the light bulbs on the ceiling behind a protective metallic grille. Anna had come down to the holding cells. She wanted to talk to Sammy alone.

‘I don’t believe you killed those people. Why are you lying to us?’

Sammy was doing press-ups on the floor, counting in a foreign language, out of breath. Then he slumped to the floor and rolled on to his back.

‘I’m not lying.’

‘You won’t be allowed to stay here. Convicted criminals are deported as a matter of course.’

‘Ritva said that could take at least three years with the judicial process and all the bureaucracy. She said they won’t necessarily send me back. She wants to make a legal precedent, so I can serve my sentence in Finland.’

‘It sounds desperate.’

‘I am desperate, a desperate murderer.’

‘I talked to Maalik and Farzad. They said you wouldn’t hurt a fly.’

‘They don’t know the real me.’

‘I think they do.’

‘Why are you here?’ Sammy asked and sat up. He wiped sweat from his brow.

‘I want to talk to you.’

‘I mean, why are you in Finland.’

‘I live here.’

‘Yeah, I know that. But why? Why don’t you go back to your home?’

Anna thought for a moment how to answer.

‘My home is here now,’ she said eventually. ‘My work is here, my brother.’

‘You see? I want a job here too. I don’t have a brother any more.’

‘Neither do I – well, one of them, that is. Or a father.’

And before long I won’t have a grandmother either, she thought. Sammy looked at her with his friendly eyes, eyes that had seen so much, and edged closer to her.

‘I saw straight away there was sadness inside you. It lives there and won’t go away,’ he said.

Anna closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath. You can’t start crying now, she told herself.

‘Sammy, even if you’re allowed to stay and serve your sentence in Finland, you will be locked up for at least ten years,’ she said quietly.

‘That’s plenty of time to study and learn Finnish. In ten years’ time I’ll still be young.’

‘Please, Sammy. It doesn’t work like that.’

‘It has to work. Ritva said it might work out.’

‘And is that why you’re lying to us?’

‘I’m not lying,’ he insisted.

Anna left the cell. The guard opened the heavy metal door, and Anna stepped out into the corridor, which reeked of tobacco. Sammy’s desperation had touched her profoundly. What fate could possibly be so terrible that years in prison felt like salvation in comparison? Why hadn’t Sammy been awarded leave to remain when he first applied? If that had happened, he would be studying somewhere, he would have a future. Anna knew that Sammy’s story wasn’t at all exceptional. The world was full of stateless people, people who for one reason or another had been forced to leave their homes and travel far and wide, people whose hope of a better tomorrow, of settling somewhere and living in peace was not in their own hands but in the hands of the authorities, lawyers and politicians, the kind of
people who after a hard day’s work went back to their own homes, stretched their legs on the sofa, sighed with comfort and wondered who would take the kids to their various activities that evening, whether to go the Pilates or the kettle-bell class, whether to watch TV or go to bed early, and all this without once thinking that their secure lives, lives they took for granted, were in worldwide terms nothing but an illusion. Hands like that need to be washed regularly.

Anna went into her office. She tried to concentrate on writing up a few reports, but it was futile. She decided to drive into town.

Anna spent a while looking for the boy. First she asked the boy’s mother, who suggested she ask his former girlfriend. The girl was living in a tiny council flat, a real dump, and she was in as bad a condition as the apartment. Her long blond hair was thin and greasy, her eyes were restless and her speech slurred and unclear. The floor was covered in litter and the bed stank of urine. Anna almost felt like searching the premises, or at least taking the girl into police custody to sober her up, but for the moment she had to keep a low profile. She mustn’t frighten the boy or piss him off.

The boy’s name was Jani Huttunen, a regular guest at the police station, a small-time crook and drug dealer. Judging by Sammy’s description, it was Jani who had given Sammy his first Subutex and got him hooked. A tall, thin boy, blond hair, acne – there were plenty of boys like that, but not very many Subutex dealers. Anna had interviewed Jani in relation to the death of a substance abuser just before Christmas. The death was eventually attributed to an overdose, but Jani had stuck in Anna’s mind. The boy had seemed sharp. Anna told him she thought he was wasting his talent. He’d laughed smugly and said he’d always hated wasting his time at school.

Anna decided to check out the areas where drugs were in regular circulation: the shopping centre at Rajapuro, behind the supermarket in Vaarala and in the parks and car parks around Koivuharju. It was the first day of April and the sky seemed to hang over the city like a damp gauze. The cold front had finally gone; now she had to
put up with puddles of melting snow, the streams of slush and the possibility of further cold snaps. She would still be able to ski out at sea for a while, until the wind from the south whipped water on to the ice and turned it into a sinking, floating mush that only the bravest skiers dared use. People like this were out skiing so long into the spring that Anna thought they must have a gift for walking on water.

In Vaarala she got lucky. Jani was just leaving the forecourt outside the supermarket, his long legs striding somewhere, a hoodie tightly pulled over his head, his hands deep in his jeans pockets and his shoulders hunched over as Anna pulled the car up in front of him.

‘Get in. Now,’ Anna ordered him and opened the passenger door.

Jani hesitated for a second, weighed up his chances of getting away, glanced in both directions, then eventually clambered into the car. Anna was surprised. The boy probably didn’t have any gear on him, otherwise he’d have made a run for it.

‘Remember me? Fekete Anna from the police. How’s it going?’ said Anna and shook Jani’s hand. The boy took her hand, reluctantly squeezed it and didn’t say a thing.

‘I want to talk to you,’ she continued. ‘You and I are going for a little drive.’

At first Jani stayed remarkably calm, chewed gum, tapped his fingers against his thighs and whistled a rhythm playing in his head. As Anna drove out of the city without saying anything, the boy became visibly agitated. He squirmed restlessly in his seat, flicked on the car radio and turned the volume up full. Anna switched it off again.

‘Where the fuck are you taking me?’ Jani finally decided to speak.

‘Ask me nicely and I might tell you,’ said Anna.

The boy said nothing. Anna continued driving. When Anna slowed as they approached an intersection, he suddenly tried to wrench the door open and throw himself out on to the road, but Anna had locked the door from the inside and Jani could do nothing but feebly rattle the door handle. Out of the corner of her eyes Anna
could see that the young man, who a moment ago was so cocky and self-assured, was close to tears.

‘Where are you taking me?’ he asked quietly.

‘So, you can speak politely. Where would you like to go?’

‘Home,’ he replied even more quietly.

‘I’ll take you home as soon as you tell me a thing or two.’

Anna switched on the flashing lights and drove down a small track that she was sure didn’t lead anywhere. After about fifty metres she brought the car to a stop in the middle of the woods and turned to look at Jani.

‘I’m going to show you a few pictures. Look at them carefully and tell me whether you’ve seen these people before. Okay?’

Again Jani hesitated. He glanced around the grey woodland, clearly looking for an escape route. Anna could almost see the disappointment and embarrassment on his face. Outside the supermarket he might have had a chance; out here he could do nothing. Eventually he nodded. Anna handed him photographs of Sammy and Reza. Jani only looked at them for a second.

‘I know them both. This one’s an illegal, hiding from the police but uses quite a bit, and this one…’

Anna waited. Jani was clearly worried about talking to her.

‘He’s called Reza. Big-time crook. He’s dangerous.’

‘In what way?’

‘He’s violent, into gang stuff. He’s got an army of immigrants working for him.’

‘Was Sammy involved with him?’

‘Not that I know.’

‘What about this guy?’ asked Anna and showed him a photograph of Marko Halttu.

Her telephone rang. It was Gabriella. What the hell did that girl want from her, Anna wondered. She thought she’d made it clear she wanted to be left in peace. Anna pressed the ‘reject’ button and turned again to Jani.

The phone rang again.
A francba
, Anna cursed to herself, can’t she
just leave me alone – but this number was unknown, and hesitating slightly she decided to answer.

‘Fekete Anna,’ she said and stepped out of the car while keeping a watchful eye on Jani in the passenger seat.

‘Has there been any news about my mother?’ asked an agitated female voice.

‘Hello? Is that Leena Rekola?’

‘Yes, it is. Why has nobody been in touch with me? What has happened to my mother?’

‘You have a different number.’

‘I changed my number because I was frightened. This number is unlisted.’

‘Has something happened? I mean, do you suddenly feel unsafe?’

‘Isn’t this reason enough?’ Leena almost shouted. ‘Some confounded drug addict dies, his neighbour dies and my mother is missing – and it’s all happened in the same building. Do you hear? The same building! You’re only investigating that gang, but have you ever considered that my mother’s disappearance could have another explanation altogether? Have you?’

‘I am still convinced that we’ll find your mother safe and sound,’ said Anna without knowing why she wasn’t telling the truth. Surely it was wrong to get the woman’s hopes up? Wasn’t it better to prepare relatives for the worst?

‘And where do you imagine we are going to find her?’ Now Leena was really shouting. ‘Where? I’ve called everyone – our most distant relatives, even the ones on my father’s side, though my mother had nothing to do with them whatsoever. I’ve been through her old school and work friends, even visited the place we lived when I was young and asked the old neighbours. Nothing. Nobody has heard a thing!’

‘You have done a great job,’ said Anna and noticed that Jani had switched on the police radio and was listening to it with a smirk on his spotty face. Anna mustered an irritated expression, gave the window a sharp tap and waved her finger. Brat, she thought.

‘Quite. And what have the police been doing?’ said Leena, her voice chilling.

‘Missing persons are not technically a matter for the Violent Crimes Unit…’

‘Nonsense. Tell me what the police has done.’

Now Jani was rummaging through the glove compartment. The hoodie had slid from his head to reveal his blond, unevenly shorn hair.

‘Leena, I’m very sorry, I’m afraid I can’t talk at the moment,’ said Anna and opened the car door. Jani turned and looked at her with an infuriating grin. He was holding a bunch of papers.

‘Stop it. Put them back right now,’ Anna shouted.

‘Excuse me?’ said Leena.

‘I’m sorry, that wasn’t meant for you, but I really can’t talk right now. Can I call you as soon as I’ve established what the police have found out about your mother’s disappearance?’

‘Very well,’ said Leena and hung up.

‘I’m sure you drove the teachers berserk,’ said Anna and looked at Jani as he stuffed a petrol receipt into his mouth.

‘I know Macke,’ Jani said munching on the receipt. ‘He was a total schizo.’

‘When was the last time you saw him?’

‘Hmm. When was it he snuffed it? A few weeks ago, right? It was just before that. I saw him selling gear in Rajapuro.’

Anna could see that he knew more than he was telling.

‘Tell me everything,’ she encouraged him.

‘What’s in it for me?’

‘I won’t search you for drugs.’

‘Wow, how generous of you,’ said Jani and looked at Anna with his blue-grey eyes. Their pupils were nothing but small, black specks. ‘I haven’t got anything on me anyway. I need some cash.’

‘You’ll get fifty, if you give me some decent information.’

Jani didn’t answer immediately. He chewed his fingernails and stared out of the window. Anna could see the boy weighing up his
options. Was it worth becoming a snitch for the police? Was it worth putting himself in danger for the sake of a few euros? With a bit of luck you could get a dose of Subutex for thirty; fifty might even get him two doses. He turned to look at Anna.

‘Okay. There were a couple of Hell’s Angels at the flat. They gave Macke a good kicking.’

The power of money is extraordinary, thought Anna. Especially when it was a question of drugs.

‘Do you know why?’

‘I don’t know anything about that. But it’s been harder to get any subs recently. There were rumours Macke was trying to line his own pockets.’

Anna had already heard this from Esko, but the fact that Marko had been beaten up by the Hell’s Angels shortly before his death was a new and significant piece of information. So Sammy hadn’t caused Marko’s bruises and injuries after all. This revealed Sammy’s first lie, thought Anna contentedly, and it almost certainly wouldn’t be his last.

‘Do you know anything else?’ she asked in a friendly tone.

Jani thought about this for a moment. His eyes were bleary, his jaw covered in wispy fluff and riddled with acne. Poor boy, thought Anna.

‘You should talk to his girlfriend,’ Jani said eventually. ‘She reckons Macke topped himself.’

‘Really? That would be very important information. Who is she?’

‘She’s called Hilla, best mates with my girlfriend. I can tell her you want to talk to her.’