“Sure…follow me,” said the guard, and he opened the door.
Kulta fell in behind him with a smug smile.
* * *
Rauli Salo, prison guard, was sitting alone at a table in Parnell’s Pub drinking beer from a mug. His navy blue parka was draped over the back of the chair. The Pub, in Kallio, was furnished in the traditional British style-dominated by dark-toned woods. Salo glanced at his watch: a quarter after two. Fifteen minutes late already.
A blond-haired man came in and Salo followed him with his eyes. He wasn’t sure what sort of man he was here to meet. This one stopped just inside the entrance and scanned the bar. He looked about fifty and wore a black Burberry overcoat, which he left on as he made his way for Salo’s table. The man’s face was tanned.
“You waiting for somebody?” the man asked from six feet off.
The prison guard nodded, and the man sat down at the table. “Hello,” he said. “I had to find a parking spot.”
Salo guessed the man had parked a Mercedes, or at least he seemed to have expensive tastes. The guy would fit in better at some trendy bistro downtown than this poor man’s pub in Kallio. Salo had expected something between a straggly-bearded junkie and a tough-looking torpedo, but you never knew with these criminals. This was actually better-at least he’d get paid. Salo slowly sipped his beer.
“Well?” Martin said impatiently. The lawyer didn’t feel quite at home, and he didn’t care much for this sort of impromptu meeting. On the phone, the man had said he had a message from a certain inmate. Of course that meant Korpi. But who was this guy across the table? Martin didn’t know and didn’t really
want to, either. He didn’t look like someone on parole, anyhow. More like a prison staffer.
“Your inmate had a message.”
“You already told me that.”
“Money first. He said five hundred.”
Martin gave the man a hard stare. “Five hundred?” He couldn’t possibly know how much Korpi had actually said, and wondered to what extent this guy was padding his own pockets. Martin dug out his wallet and slipped five green bills into the man’s hand. “So?”
“He says tighten the screw.”
“Tighten the screw?”
“That’s right,” said Salo.
“I see,” said Martin, and he got up to leave.
After he left, Salo stayed to finish his beer. He thought about what the message meant. Five hundred for that was easy money. Tighten the screw…must have something to do with Korpi’s debts. Whatever it was, he knew he shouldn’t be conveying messages from a prisoner in solitary, but what harm could it do? Especially when it was so vague, and not really even a threat.
Salo was actually glad that Korpi owed him one now. In the long run, it would make his life easier. There was one major difference between the work of police and prison guards: the former encountered criminals in fleeting moments of danger, but the latter had to live with them for years. It called for a different kind of touch that involved cooperation. And easy money.
* * *
As Joutsamo stepped into his office, Takamäki could tell from the faint smile on her face that she had good news.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Something, which is a good thing. First off, Kulta got footage of the Lehtonens at the Kirkkonummi train station. They boarded an 11:30 train toward Helsinki, scheduled to arrive at 12:08. The video showed that they were clearly alone on the platform.”
Takamäki glanced at the clock. “So we’re about two and a half hours behind them.”
“Right, but of course they could’ve gotten off at an earlier stop. No sign of them at the apartment.”
“I’m sure Kulta will check the footage at the Helsinki end next?”
“That’s what he said,” said Joutsamo.
“Well, at least we’re on the trail.”
That the Lehtonens were travelling alone was a relief. If someone had snatched them, they wouldn’t be using public transit. More than likely they would’ve been tossed into a trunk. Or a trash bag.
“One other thing,” said Joutsamo. “Guerrilla got another phone call. Came from a cell tower in Kallio.”
“A prepaid phone?”
Joutsamo nodded. “That’s the third call from the same number, but all from different towers. I think it makes sense to file for a warrant at this point.”
“I think so too,” said Takamäki. Given the calls had come from three separate cell towers, it made sense to dig deeper-it would be easier to limit the number of phones falling within their range. The data could also reveal the caller’s other phone numbers, which might be registered to a real person. “I’ll take care of the red tape ASAP.”
Joutsamo looked exasperated. “I’m sick and tired of messing with all this cell tower bullshit… No question in my mind we should be able to listen to these calls. Right now we have no idea who’s calling and what’s being said. With a tap we’d be two steps ahead of the game.”
“You’re preaching to the choir. Talk to the parliament and interior ministry,” said Takamäki with an edge in his voice. “Maybe you could stage a protest.”
Joutsamo was quiet for a while. “Stage?” She thought for a while. Laura’s theater project was over, but hadn’t Mari mentioned something about a show they were planning on attending? A musical, she recalled. Wasn’t it around this time? A Saturday, to be sure.
“You know what,” said Joutsamo. “I think they’ve got tickets to a musical today.”
“A musical?”
“At the City Theater, if I remember right. I wouldn’t think there’d be too many musicals running at the same time.”
Takamäki grabbed a copy of the Helsingin Sanomat and opened it to the entertainment section. “Two shows there today. A matinee at four and an evening show at seven-thirty.”
Joutsamo looked at the clock. “Still a good hour before the matinee starts. Maybe we ought to have a look.”
“I’ll come too. If they don’t show, let’s stop by their apartment and take a stroll around the neighborhood.”
* * *
Mari and Laura Lehtonen were sitting at a table for four on the second floor of the Hakaniemi McDonald’s. There were few other customers. Mari was sitting with her back to the wall, with a clear view of anyone who came up the stairs. Laura was facing her.
The window provided a view of the empty Hakaniemi outdoor market. It had closed at two, the vendors having packed up their carts and left.
Mari and Laura ate their hamburgers in silence. The decision to run had been discussed thoroughly back in Kirkkonummi. Laura had complied with her mother’s wishes.
Mari saw him the moment his face came into view on the stairs. He spotted her and cut straight for their table.
Mari set what was left of her hamburger on the table and followed his approach with her eyes. Anton Teittinen stopped and stood at the end of the table. Mari had called him an hour earlier to ask for a favor and they had arranged to meet here.
Laura’s eyes went from the man to her mother with a mystified expression.
Teittinen kept his gaze on Laura. “You sure have grown.”
Laura was confused. And who is this supposed to be, her eyes seemed to say.
“Laura, this is your father,” said Mari.
Laura stood and threw her arms around his sturdy body. At first, he was taken off guard, but soon he wrapped his strong arms around her and held on. He couldn’t speak, nor could he keep the tears from welling up in his eyes. After about half a minute, the girl let go and so did Anton.
“Sit, sit,” said Mari, glancing around at the other customers. Nobody had taken any interest in them.
Anton Teittinen tried discreetly to dab away his tears, but he wasn’t fooling either of them. “Been quite some time,” he said. “Time you can’t get back. I…uhh…I’ve been pretty stupid.”
Mari nodded. This was probably the closest to an apology Anton was capable of. “There’s no going back to the way it was,” she said.