He holstered his Glock and went to the back door of the cruiser, which couldn’t be opened from the inside. Partio pulled the door open to see the mugging victim curled up on the back seat. He looked up at the officer. “What the hell is going on out there?”
“Nothing to worry about. Just had to take care of some urgent police business first, but we’ll get you in line for some help soon.”
“Who fired?” the man asked as he scrambled to his feet.
“I did. Now get up, and quick.”
In three seconds, the man was out of the car. Partio pointed him toward the entrance to the clinic.
The approaching squad car killed its sirens a hundred yards before the hospital. As the cruiser came to a stop under the canopy, the roof lights went out too. Since the roof lights would quickly drain the car’s battery, they were used sparingly.
Two big officers stepped out, keeping their hands on the butts of their guns. Nieminen greeted them both, but kept the baton by Larsson’s ear.
“Who fired?” asked one of the officers.
“Partio.”
“At who?”
Nieminen waved his baton toward the hole in the side of the car. “Just the poor Audi. Unfortunately.”
“Aha.” The big officer glanced back at the kneeling Larsson and recognized the Skull. “Well, your partner should work on his marksmanship.”
CHAPTER 27
TUESDAY, 6:30 A.M.
PASILA POLICE HEADQUARTERS, HELSINKI
Takamäki sat in his office and smelled the coffee. At this hour, it was either very fresh or it had sat in the pot overnight. Though it was still too hot to drink now, judging by the aroma, it was fresh.
The lieutenant was reading a report on his screen about the early-morning incident at the ER. It matched what he had heard from the night-shift lieutenant in a 5:00 A.M. phone call, though the report described the events in greater detail. Sergeant Partio himself had written it.
“Morning,” said Captain Honkala as he took off his overcoat. The NBI captain was wearing the same gray suit as yesterday and his short hair was neatly combed.
After the night-shift lieutenant had awakened him, Takamäki had phoned Honkala, and the two had agreed to meet in Takamäki’s office at half-past-six.
“Anything new?”
“Details, mainly,” answered Takamäki, and he relayed the main points of the incident at the ER.
“I wonder who shot Steiner, and where the shooter is.”
“No longer alive, I suspect. Larsson is in custody, but he hasn’t said anything. Steiner is in no shape to talk, yet.”
“What about forensics?”
“Just getting started, but they found some soil and sand on Steiner’s and Larsson’s shoes as well as in the footwell of the Audi, so they’d been somewhere in the woods. No GPS in the car, so it’s tough to say exactly where. I bet the shooting happened somewhere in Helsinki, since Larsson drove to the Töölö Hospital and not to one in Vantaa or Espoo.”
Joutsamo, dressed in a gray sweater, stepped into the office. “We got the results of the residue analysis. Larsson didn’t fire his weapon last night. Actually, the preliminary results show that neither of their weapons have been fired for some time. Steiner’s knife has traces of fresh blood, so we sent it to the lab.”
“Thanks,” said Honkala. “No surprise about the knife, but could it be possible that the bombing was intended for the Skulls after all? Seems like someone is after these two. What if Salmela’s behind all this? At least he’d have a motive, and that “rat” note on his dead friend has got me thinking.”
Takamäki didn’t comment, but turned back to Joutsamo. “Have you gotten a hold of Suhonen?”
“He’s not answering his phone.”
“Okay. He’s probably been working all night and turned off his phone to get a few hours of sleep.”
“It’s definitely ringing, but nobody’s answering,” Joutsamo added.
“Well, it could be on vibrate.”
Honkala brushed a piece of lint off the shoulder of his suit jacket. “I called Nykänen. He told me they’d been doing the rounds till about midnight before Suhonen dropped him off at the station and went home. Nykänen will get here as soon as he can.”
“Well, Suhonen will show up too, once he wakes up.”
Honkala was still standing in the middle of the room. “What about Larsson’s and Steiner’s phone records?”
“We put a rush on them,” Joutsamo replied. “The phone companies promised them by noon.”
“Okay,” said Takamäki. “We have to remember that we have three parallel cases: the bombing in Käpylä, Nurminen’s stabbing, and most recently, Steiner’s shooting. The car bombing is connected to the Skulls. We have no suspects yet in Steiner’s shooting, but in Nurminen’s case, we have Larsson and Steiner. That looks like the easiest case of the three.”
Joutsamo nodded. “Forensics has been cranking all night, but I haven’t heard any results yet.”
“They promised them by nine this morning.”
“And there’s a fourth case here, too,” Honkala noted. “The shooting at the Skulls’ compound. Of course, the state prosecutor will investigate police conduct in connection with the fatalities. The NBI techies have been scouring the building all night. I haven’t heard what they found.”
Honkala fell silent for a moment, “This calls for another meeting with the bosses so we can sort out who takes what.”
“I agree,” said Takamäki.
“Quite a case, but we’ve got plenty of time. Now that Larsson and Steiner are in custody, we’re in no hurry. How about nine o’clock in your conference room?”
“Sounds good,” said Takamäki.
“We should think about the press, too. And by that I mean what are we going to make public,” Honkala continued. “Yesterday, if memory serves, I promised to have a noon press conference at the NBI headquarters, but it’s probably better to have it here.”
That was the last thing on Takamäki’s mind.
“I could go for some coffee here,” said Honkala.
Take a big mug so you wake up, thought the lieutenant. Just as Honkala was leaving the room, Takamäki spoke up, “I’d like to interrogate Larsson personally. Like now.”
* * *
Suhonen’s mouth was parched and his muscles ached. His stance on the wobbly stool was precarious. The undercover cop’s hands, cuffed behind his back, were strapped to his feet with zip-ties. The noose held up his head. Carefully, he attempted to shift his weight to the other knee and shin, but it was difficult. The rigid zip-ties had taken the feeling out of his feet some time ago.
The shed was dark. Only a small window admitted the faint yellow street lights of Beltway One. Suhonen’s phone had rung twice and startled the men enough that they had almost fallen over. Suhonen had shouted for help numerous times, but nobody had heard, or at least hadn’t come to help.
Salmela hadn’t said anything for a while, but despite his talk of suicide, he was still balancing on the stool.
“What’s the status?” Suhonen asked quietly.
Salmela took a while to answer. “Terrible. I feel like shit. I’m not gonna last long. How long we been here?”
“Don’t know. Couple hours probably.”
Salmela was quiet for a couple of minutes. “It was Juha Saarnikangas who ratted on me. I can’t prove it, but I know he called Larsson because I had just called Juha to ask for a place to sleep right before the assholes found me.”
“Juha’s always played with a couple of decks. We’ll go pay him a little visit when we get outta here.”
“If we get outta here.”
“When we get outta here.”
Silence set in for another few minutes, amplifying the pain in their bodies, but they had to endure.