“Don’t do it,” he said. “Let her go. Take me instead.”
Korpi laughed. “A hero cop, huh? You really think I’d switch?”
“Think about it. If you do, you’ll get your helicopter.”
“And you’d be a legend,” said Korpi. He wrested Lehtonen’s head to the side and pressed a kiss onto her cheek.
“What soft skin you have. I’m sure the girl’s is even softer.”
“Eat shit,” said Mari. “Joker my ass. You’re a four of clubs. Nothing more, nothing less. A four of clubs. Pathetic.”
Korpi’s eyes flared. “You wanna die?”
“Go ahead,” she said with a wooden expression. “I’m already dead. Just do it!”
“Fuck you!”
Takamäki looked on helplessly as Korpi’s trigger finger began to close. The lieutenant had managed to inch a little closer-maybe he could make a lunge for the gun. But that wouldn’t work, the distance was too great. Korpi squeezed his finger and Takamäki’s mind pictured the hammer as it flew home, but a shot from the left rang out at the same time. Takamäki’s ears went deaf from the blast. Risto Korpi sank to the floor with Mari in his arms.
One shot or two? Takamäki wasn’t sure. He looked to the left and saw that Salo had fired. Joutsamo scrambled to the other side of the table and pulled the bloodied Mari away from Korpi’s body. Takamäki looked at the inmate. The bullet had shattered his skull. He was dead.
“Is she okay?” asked Takamäki. Joutsamo was holding Lehtonen in her arms some fifteen feet away.
“She’s alright. She’s not hit.”
The second armed guard reclaimed his Glock from Salo’s trembling hand. Takamäki couldn’t understand why Mari wasn’t dead. He felt certain he had seen Korpi pull the trigger before Salo.
He found the revolver on the floor and picked it up. The hammer was closed, so Korpi had definitely pulled the trigger. He snapped open the cylinder. Empty: the weapon hadn’t been loaded.
Takamäki realized that Mari was watching him. Their eyes met for what seemed like a minute. Had she planned this all in advance? he wondered. Her eyes offered no clues, but that gaze was intense.
“It’s all over,” he said calmly. “Put your safeties back on. Nobody talks to anybody till the interrogations are done.”
CHAPTER 29
MONDAY, 6:00 P.M.
PASILA POLICE HEADQUARTERS
The lobby of the police station was nearly full. What used to be the press briefing room had been remodeled into a monitoring room for traffic enforcement cameras, so press conferences had to be held in the lobby now. A couple of tables had been set up in front of a glass wall near the elevators, and about twenty chairs had been assembled for the reporters.
Half a dozen TV cameras and upwards of a dozen newspaper photographers were lined up in the front row. The first few reporters to arrive on time had had the good sense to take the outermost seats in the front row, the only ones with sightlines not obstructed by the photographers’ backs. Other reporters stood to the sides.
Sanna Römpötti was standing about thirty feet from the tables when Deputy Chief Skoog arrived. The cameraman gave the signal and the live broadcast cut from the news desk to the police station.
“I’m here at Pasila Police Headquarters where a press conference on today’s dramatic turn of events is about to begin. Let’s listen in,” said Römpötti, and the picture cut to a second camera trained on Skoog.
Deputy Chief Skoog sat behind a table bristling with microphones and recorders. Alongside him sat the equally grave-looking state prosecutor, Roosa Kemppinen. Skoog began, “Hello. I’m Mika Skoog, Deputy Chief of the Helsinki Police Department, and here with me I have State Prosecutor Roosa Kemppinen. To begin with, I’ll read a statement that will be available in printed form after the conference.”
Skoog cleared his throat and began reading, “In recent days, the Helsinki Violent Crimes Unit has been investigating a series of threats toward a witness who testified in a recent murder trial. Among the threats was a car bomb that was found in front of the witness’s home. After a relentless search, police were able to locate the bombing suspect, but this afternoon the investigation ended in an unfortunate incident on Juna Street, in which the suspect fired shots at police officers. The shots missed, but officers at the scene were forced to return fire and the suspect was killed. The same individual is also suspected of a homicide in Vuosaari earlier in the day.”
Skoog looked up. “We ask that anyone with information on this incident contact the Helsinki VCU,” and he listed a phone number.
The reporters were silent.
Skoog returned to his paper. “In a related incident at the Helsinki Prison today, a corrections officer shot and killed an inmate who was threatening the life of another individual. This same inmate was suspected of being behind the threats against the aforementioned witness.”
He went on, “Because police officers were involved in the shooting on Juna Street, State Prosecutor Roosa Kemppinen will be leading that investigation. Both the shooting in Vuosaari and at the prison will be investigated by the National Bureau of Investigation, as it would not be prudent for the Helsinki VCU to investigate the matter themselves. At this time, State Prosecutor Kemppinen will make a statement.”
“Yes. I don’t have anything to add at the moment,” said Kemppinen dryly, “Except that the state prosecutor’s office will conduct a thorough investigation.”
She turned back to Skoog.
“I think we can open it up for a few questions at this time. Go ahead.”
“Was Risto Korpi the inmate who was killed?” asked one of the newspaper reporters.
“Yes, he was.”
“Can you tell us what happened?”
Skoog paused for a while. “That’s still under investigation. Unfortunately the lead investigator is still at the scene and was unable to attend this press conference. At this point I don’t have any more information.”
Römpötti blurted out her question without being called upon, since that would never happen after last night’s news story, “This whole case seems to revolve around threats against a witness who testified in court. Now both suspects behind the threats have died at the hands of the authorities. Was this an intentional message to criminal organizations that they shouldn’t tamper with witnesses?”
Skoog stared coldly at Römpötti, but then looked directly at one of the TV cameras. “Of course not. We don’t work that way here in Finland.”
But something in his expression or perhaps the tone of his voice left a shadow of doubt in viewers’ minds, just as Skoog had intended.
“What about Mari Lehtonen?” asked Römpötti.
“She’s fine,” he said, and followed up quickly with, “Thank you. The next press conference is tomorrow morning at ten. Hopefully we’ll be able to tell you more then.”
Römpötti took up her position in front of the camera and reiterated the day’s events and what little they had learned from the press conference.
* * *
The live broadcast at the police station came to a close and Mari Lehtonen turned off her television. Laura was sitting on the sofa reading a book.
“So what now?” asked Laura.
Mari shrugged. “I guess our lives will return to normal. There’s nothing to worry about anymore. That’s what the police said. I might get a fine for an unlicensed firearm and for threatening with a deadly weapon, but Joutsamo said the prosecutor might not even press charges given the circumstances.”
Next to the television was a handsomely decorated Christmas tree, a traditional gift from the officers at a military base near the safe house.
“So when do we get to go back home?”
“I don’t know, but after all these shootings I think it’s best if we stay here for a while.”