Only twenty more miles to go.
Over the past year, the news had been reporting that Russians were buying cabins and lakeshore lots in Eastern Finland. Markkanen wondered if these TVs were bound for their summer villas, or to be sold in shady retail stores. It was none of his business. His job was to ensure that the transfer at the warehouse went smoothly, and to collect the money.
The speedometer had climbed over sixty, and Markkanen eased his foot off the gas.
* * *
Suhonen’s phone beeped. He bolted awake and snatched it off the nightstand before realizing that it wasn’t a call, but the alarm. The room was dark; the curtains blocked out the sunlight.
He flopped onto his back and scratched his side. An old stab wound itched from time to time, begging for lotion.
Suhonen stretched his arms and legs. He’d have to make it to the gym today. That and wash the dishes, do laundry, and vacuum. His two-bedroom in Kallio wasn’t exactly tidy.
After Suhonen’s “marriage candidate” had moved out, Kulta proposed that they room together. If they pooled their money, they could save enough for a flat-screen TV and a housekeeper. The stove and dishwasher were dispensable, since the pizza guy would bring the food. If you brought a girlfriend to the pad, you’d have to fill the fridge with beer. The house cleaner could be paid with deposit returns from all the empty bottles and cans.
Suhonen had promised himself that he’d eat healthier. But once again, the night had ended with a meat pie doused in ketchup and mayo and a pint of milk from a 24-hour grill stand. He had pounded down the calorie bomb at four in the morning.
Should, should, should… He should get in the shower now.
Suhonen grabbed his phone off the table and squinted at it. The clock said 9:31 A.M. He checked the GPS tracker for Saarnikangas’ van. It was still at the apartment in Pihlajamäki and hadn’t moved all night.
He selected another vehicle from the drop-down menu. This one had sat in Pikku-Huopalahti overnight. The previous evening, he had caught up to Ilari Lydman’s Mazda, followed it, and installed a tracking device in the parking lot.
Suhonen stood up, took off his boxers, and headed for the shower.
He stopped at the bedroom door and took turns stretching his quads.
CHAPTER 17
PASILA POLICE HEADQUARTERS
THURSDAY, 10:30 A.M.
“Glad to see everyone made it,” Lieutenant Takamäki said to start off the meeting. He had arranged it on short notice. Mikko Kulta, Kirsi Kohonen, and Anna Joutsamo sat on one side of the conference room, Takamäki and Suhonen on the other. Kannas, the head of Forensics was at the end of the table behind a stack of papers.
Sergeant Maija Laakso from the Financial Crimes Unit sat a couple chairs further down. Earlier, Suhonen had wondered aloud why she was attending, but Joutsamo explained that Laakso was representing the computer nerd unit. Apparently, they had found something on Eriksson’s laptop.
Suhonen tasted his coffee. He could have gone for some pastries too, but thanks to budget cuts, they were bound by a coffee-only policy. He studied Joutsamo’s timeline on the wall. Eriksson’s movements on Monday evening were beginning to come together.
“Let’s get started,” Takamäki continued, glancing at Kannas.
“Okay,” the big man growled. “Some of the evidence from the crime scene has been analyzed. We found a decent amount of hair and fibers, but we haven’t been able to go through them all yet. We do know that someone with blue overalls and a black wool hat has been at the scene. Of course, we’re waiting for you to bring us samples for comparison.”
The detectives nodded.
“We found a wad of chewing gum and some cigarette butts in the yard. There were plenty of those, but we focused on the fresh ones. The most interesting piece of evidence was the gum, which gave us a DNA sample. We compared it to the DNA database this morning and found a match,” Kannas paused. “In other words, we have a possible suspect.”
“Wow,” Kulta exclaimed.
Kannas slid a document toward the detectives. Joutsamo snatched it first and glanced at Suhonen. “Juha Saarnikangas.”
Suhonen’s face was expressionless.
“It’s difficult to determine how old the gum is, but we can probably try some further analysis at the lab. I would think they could tell from the composition whether it’s relatively fresh or been there awhile, but I don’t actually know. However, it’s clear that Saarnikangas has been at the crime scene at some point. The timing could be confirmed by analyzing the tires on his van. The tire tracks at the scene were left by GT Radials, and, according to Joutsamo, Saarnikangas has a matching set on his van. If we get our hands on the tires, we can easily check whether it was the same van.”
Takamäki nodded. “So Saarnikangas is a strong suspect. You all remember, of course, that Saarnikangas owed Eriksson a rather large sum of money. I should also mention that according to Customs, the tip about Eriksson being their informant is not true.”
Joutsamo interjected. “In other words, Saarnikangas had an apparent motive, and we’ve linked him to the crime scene. His criminal record is another strike.”
Takamäki interrupted Joutsamo. “Before we make any conclusions… Maija, why don’t you tell us what you found on the computer.”
Laakso had dark hair, a round face, and heavy build, and she wore glasses. Suhonen figured she hadn’t attended the police academy, but was hired from some IT firm.
“Right,” Laakso began. “The computer was a run-of-the-mill laptop, costs about a thousand euros. The internet service provider was Wizard. We haven’t received the broadband service reports from the ISP, so for now we’re just relying on the data from the laptop.”
Laakso glanced at the others, but nobody said anything.
“So… We found Jerry Eriksson’s fingerprints on the keyboard, along with somebody else’s,” she said, glancing at Joutsamo. “Based on an initial comparison, the second person was probably Kristiina Nyholm.”
Joutsamo cut in. “This Kristiina was here this morning to report Eriksson as missing, and I interviewed her. She told me about the events of the evening, and also gave me Eriksson’s cellphone number. We’ve filed a warrant for the phone records. Just in case, I took her fingerprints and had a look at them with a magnifying glass. They appear to match those found on the laptop.”
“Did you have the legal authority to take her prints?” Kulta asked.
“I asked her and she agreed,” Joutsamo answered.
“I don’t suppose you told her that her lost property had been found already.”
“No.”
“Cruel,” Kulta scolded.
Before Joutsamo could say anything, Takamäki interjected, “Anna and I agreed on that strategy. Go on, Maija.”
Kulta shrugged.
“He had your typical Windows software, but we didn’t find any interesting documents. There was some photo-editing software and what not, but no photos on the hard drive. Because of child porn cases, we have excellent programs for finding photos anywhere on the hard drive. Nor did we find any Word or Excel documents. The email application had never been used.”
“What we found on the internet side was much more interesting. Apparently, he used the computer for banking. Here’s the account number,” Laakso said, passing a sheet of paper to Takamäki.
“Whose is it?”
“It belongs to a fronting company. We haven’t requested the official account information since that requires a lieutenant’s authorization.”
“Consider it done,” Takamäki said, handing the paper to Joutsamo.
“The computer has also been used to access a couple of free email servers. Here are the user names and passwords,” she said, and gave the paper straight to Joutsamo. “We found a few fragments of text, which are included on that document.”