Vengeance (46 page)

    
“Is Steiner alive?” asked Larsson.

    
Takamäki considered lying and saying he was dead, since that was what Larsson was after. The gangster wouldn’t cast blame on a brother if he was still alive, but if the man was dead, Larsson could be more truthful.

    
“He’s alive.”

    
“I’m not saying anything. I understand you have to go through the murder versus manslaughter stuff, but I’m not buying it. I do appreciate that you didn’t lie to me about Steiner.”

    
“That’s not how we operate.”

    
Larsson laughed. “Uhh. Is that so?”

    
“What do you mean by that?” Takamäki said. Maybe this could lead somewhere.

    
“Fuck. You guys have the country’s biggest bullshitters.”

    
“What are you talking about? The case that landed you in prison last time?”

    
Larsson laughed. “Including that one. That Suhonen is a goddamn clown. He deserves his fate.”

    
A cold ripple ran down Takamäki’s spine. “What fate?”

    
Larsson laughed, but said nothing more.

    
“What did you mean by that?”

    
Had Suhonen shot Steiner only to fall victim to Larsson, he wondered?

    
“You can try, but you won’t be able to beat the Skulls.”

    
Takamäki massaged his jaw. This called for a change in tactics. “What Skulls? Your president is serving a life sentence and ten or so others are in prison too. You and Steiner will get life. Niko Andersson and Osku Rahkonen are dead. Roger Sandström is in jail on suspicion of murder. We have a warrant for Sami Aronen’s arrest on the same charge.”

    
Larsson didn’t respond, though he was clearly listening to the lieutenant.

    
Takamäki went on. “And just for your information: Osku shot Andersson, and the police shot Osku. So I was wondering if their names will make it on the headstone you guys got, or do they get asterisks? Is the epitaph going to say that one was shot by his buddy, and for the other one, that he shot his buddy? Your problem is that you don’t have anybody to carve the names. Your gang has crumbled. The Skulls don’t exist anymore.”

    
Larsson still didn’t say anything.

    
“The police shot Korpela a year ago. I was there myself when Kahma and Jyrkkä were shot in that abandoned parking lot in Hanko… Do you get it, Larsson? You’ve lost.”

    
“Bullshit,” Larsson tried to growl under his breath, but it came out feebly.

    
“You could put it on the back of your vests—The Skulls: Motorcycle Club for Inmates and the Dead. You’re unable to commit crimes anymore. You won’t see another gang member for years when you’re all spread out in different prisons. And your bodies in different graveyards.”

    
Larsson’s face was vacant as he hissed through his teeth, “You’re at the top of my hit-list.”

    
“Sure, but who’s gonna carry out the hit? We found a cell phone in Osku’s pocket with a photo and GPS coordinates. A GPS unit was also recovered from your offices with coordinates marked for various spots in the woods. Narcotics is digging them up right now. I don’t know if it’s weapons, drugs or money, but I will soon.”

    
Larsson was furious, but he wore a mocking smile.

    
“You and all the others are either in prison or dead. Try to understand…your gang is gone. And with the evidence we have, we’ll put your wife in prison too.”

    
“She isn’t…”

    
“Cut the bullshit. With the intel we have, we can nail Sara Lehto as an accessory to plenty of your jobs.”

    
“She’s not actually… Fuck. Stop the bullshit. If you’re gonna go there, then…”

    
“Then what?” Takamäki asked. “Try to understand. We won.”

    
Takamäki laughed with willful arrogance. “I told you before that I don’t lie. Believe me. The Skulls lost. Sorry about that.”

    
A genuine grin spread across Larsson’s face. “A Pyrrhic victory then. You’ll never find him alive.”

    
“Who?” asked Takamäki, though he knew exactly who Larsson was talking about. Larsson laughed aloud. “You’ll have a grand spectacle for TV when that NBI agent and Suhonen get a joint burial. Shit, you can take bids from the news networks. They’ll pay big money for it. Yeah…I’ll have a good laugh watching it. Fuck!”

    
Takamäki said nothing.

    
“But the snitch will be quietly cremated, right?”

    
Takamäki stood up and walked out. Joutsamo followed close behind.

    
“What, you get the urge to fuck?” Larsson shouted after them. “I did!”

    
Two guards came into the room after Takamäki and Joutsamo were gone.

    
In the hallway, Honkala stepped out. “Hell, I thought…why are you spelling out the whole case to him? But now I see what you were getting at.”

* * *

Salmela was swaying on his stool from one side to the other. Suhonen was coping, though the pain had numbed half of his head.

    
“Sing along now.
I shot the sheriff
…”

    
“…
But I didn’t shoot no deputy
,” said Salmela wearily. “Fuck…I can’t go on.”

    
“
I shot the sheriff
…”

    
Salmela strained his head in Suhonen’s direction. “Listen. If you get outta this, scatter my ashes at the Lahti Soccer Stadium. They won’t give you permission, but just do it.”

    
Suhonen knew all about Salmela’s soccer fever, but he wanted to keep up the conversation. “Why?”

    
“That’s where I stashed my boy’s ashes. On the ski jump side, right-hand corner. That way we can watch the up-and-coming stars together. Whoa… Dammit, no.”
      

    
“Focus!” Suhonen shouted. “Keep your balance, now. This isn’t over.”

    
“I… I’m trying…but I…I just can’t…anymore.”

    
Salmela pitched away from Suhonen. The stool clattered out from under him and he dangled at the end of the rope.

    
“Dear God…” Tears welled up in Suhonen’s eyes. Salmela wheezed as the rope cinched tight under his weight. A typical hanging would have snapped his neck, killing him immediately, but in this case, he hadn’t fallen far enough. The rope was slowly strangling him. A painful end.

    
Suhonen heard the sound of a car outside.

    
“Help us! Help! Hurry!” he shouted. “Help! Help!”

    
The car stopped and Suhonen heard the doors open. It could be Larsson, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t afraid of showing distress.

    
“Help! In the shed! Hurry!”

    
Hurried footsteps approached and the door burst open.

    
Joutsamo was the first inside. Behind her were Mikko Kulta and Takamäki.

    
“Salmela!” Suhonen shouted.

    
“Jesus!” said Kulta. He seized the dangling Salmela in his arms. The rope slackened, and Kulta tried to release tension on the noose with his fingers. Joutsamo pulled a folding knife out of her pocket and cut the rope off of Salmela’s neck, accidentally nicking him beneath his left ear. A thin trickle of blood ran down his neck. Takamäki took out his phone and called for an ambulance.

    
Kulta lowered Salmela onto the concrete floor. Joutsamo cut his hands and feet free of the zip-ties. Kulta felt around for a pulse, but couldn’t find it. He plugged the man’s nose, tilted his head back and blew a puff of air into his mouth.

    
Joutsamo came to Suhonen’s side. “How long…”

    
“Nice to see you. My feet are completely numb so I won’t be able to stand. In other words, take it easy, alright?”

    
Takamäki dropped his phone into his pocket and came to Joutsamo’s aid. Kulta went from mouth-to-mouth to chest compressions.

    
“One, two, three…” he counted aloud.

    
Joutsamo cut the rope around Suhonen’s neck first and Takamäki braced him so he wouldn’t fall. Joutsamo cut the zip-ties and opened the cuffs with her key.

    
“Okay. You’re free,” she said.

    
Suhonen dropped his hands to his sides and tried to straighten his back, but to no avail. “I’m cramped up real bad,” he groaned.

    
“An ambulance is on the way. They’ll have some muscle relaxants,” said Takamäki as he knelt at Suhonen’s side. He nodded at Joutsamo. There hadn’t been a moment to spare.

    
After Larsson’s interrogation, they had called in an emergency request to locate Suhonen’s cell phone. The data had led them to the vicinity of the storage building. Suhonen’s shouts had reached the car and spurred them on.

    
Joutsamo shifted Suhonen into Takamäki’s arms, and the lieutenant lowered him carefully to the cement floor.

    
“Larsson?” asked Suhonen.

    
“We got him,” said Takamäki. “Don’t worry.”

    
Suhonen tried to get up, but his feet and hands couldn’t bear his weight. “Salmela!” he bellowed.

    
Kulta blew into Salmela’s mouth twice and went back to chest compressions.

    
Joutsamo checked for a pulse in his neck. Nothing.

    
The sirens of an ambulance approached from afar.

CHAPTER 28

TUESDAY, 12:25 P.M.

PASILA POLICE HEADQUARTERS, HELSINKI

“Thank you,” said NBI Captain Honkala before walking away from the podium in the lobby of Pasila Police Headquarters.

    
Takamäki had been watching the press conference from the sidelines, near the elevator. Honkala had informed the media of the events of the previous evening: the Skulls’ compound, the ER, and the tool shed.

    
The state prosecutor, who always handled investigations into police conduct, had started to look into the S.W.A.T. team’s role in the deaths of two Skulls during the raid at the compound.

    
The prosecutor had read his statement, “Since the victim died as a result of the use of police force, this investigation is of particular concern. Therefore, we’ll be undertaking a pre-trial investigation to look into whether the aforementioned shots were fired by a police officer and whether any officers are guilty of any acts, which could be interpreted as criminal. Only through a preliminary investigation can we obtain a comprehensive and objective analysis of the facts. At this time, the matter is being investigated as a justifiable homicide.”