Wolves and Angels Read online

  Pekki drew a breath and stared at the paper in his hands as if there were something more important on it.

  “Rosberg ran back to the saloon and called the police. Within ten minutes, a patrol car had arrived on the scene and immediately sealed off the area. The forensic technician on call, Sweetpea... I mean Risto P. Jalonen, arrived fifteen minutes later, at 12:05 A.M. He can tell us more now.”

  All eyes turned to Jalonen. He rubbed his nose self-consciously, not looking at all pleased about Pekki’s slip.

  “I don’t have much to add. The body belongs to an approximately forty-year-old male. There are no external signs of violence, and we found no indications of a struggle in the vicinity. It was difficult to do a detailed investigation in the dark, but at six this morning, Mäkitalo went over there straight from home to finish the job. Two uniformed patrols stayed overnight to keep away any curious bystanders.”

  “Do you have the pictures yet?” Pekki asked, and Jalonen opened his folder.

  “Here are a few fresh shots,” he said in a tired voice. “Mäkitalo promised to snap some more in daylight.”

  He divided the stack in two and distributed the pictures, starting with Ulla and Eskola. Tanse glanced at his wristwatch.

  “What do you think?” he demanded.

  No one replied. Koskinen noticed how everyone around the table sat up a little straighter, like a school class getting a talking-to from the principal, and he was once again struck by Tanse’s authority. It hadn’t weakened at all over the years. To the contrary: the more his temples had grayed, the more weight his words had.

  Lepola, from Patrol, seemed to take it as his duty to open his mouth before the others, like some sort of guest star. “Unfortunately, our boys don’t have any more information.”

  Pekki stared at Lepola with a sour expression that left no question about what he was thinking—all he would have needed was for Patrol to have more information than Violent Crime.

  Lepola didn’t seem to care about Pekki’s scowling. With his fingers spread, he swept back his thick Elvis hairdo and continued with his projecting voice. “We had a busy night last night. Car 341 had an ugly incident in Hervanta. Around midnight the patrol noticed a motorcycle behaving suspiciously. They tried to pull it over, at which point the driver tried to escape. The chase continued around Hervanta until the motorcycle ran into the right-front corner of a taxi coming from downtown.”

  Koskinen remembered the pursuit: during his late-night run the police car and motorcycle had sped past him. Now, he also realized why Tanse had so uncharacteristically arrived late to the meeting. He and Lepola had obviously been thinking about how to inform the media about the incident. Accidents during hot pursuits were always a thorny issue. The media always tried to find a way to blame the police, especially if the incident ended in a serious injury or death.

  There was a slight discomfort audible in Lepola’s voice when he continued. “The taxi driver and passengers were unharmed, but the motorcyclist was taken unconscious to University Hospital ER... A nineteen-year-old kid.”

  Tanse interrupted impatiently. “Let’s get back to the dead body in Peltolammi. Do we know the identity of the victim yet?”

  Pekki’s eyes fell back to his one and only piece of paper. He shook his head and said, “No.”

  “Has anyone been reported missing?”

  “No. I just checked the computer.”

  A meaningful cough came from the other end of the table, and everyone turned to look. Eskola’s words marched out with military precision: “Have all of the open missing person reports been analyzed? I mean that the body found last night might be someone who disappeared long time ago.”

  Pekki sighed deeply, like a finance minister being interviewed on Sunday morning on Studio A. “Good observation, Eskola. Very good. But this new body just happens to be as fresh as yesterday’s farm cheese.”

  Eskola realized his blunder. His face flushed completely red, and his mouth locked shut in a way that not even a crowbar could open it again.

  Tanse cleared his throat. “Well, now. Let’s get to work! Koskinen will head up the investigation, and Pekki will be lead detective. And don’t forget that Taru’s new replacement is starting today.”

  He walked to the door and banged it shut harder than necessary. A long, oppressive silence fell over the room.

  Ulla broke it first. She started stretching her arms and yawning. “I think I need another cup of coffee.”

  4.

  Sergeant Lepola from Patrol had left the meeting immediately after Tanse, lamenting how busy he was. Jalonen, who had pulled an all-nighter, had gone home to sleep, and the others hadn’t hung around long in the conference room either. They had all crammed into Koskinen’s office. Pekki and Kaatio sat in the guest chairs, Eskola stood by the door like a sentry, and Ulla had taken the corner of Koskinen’s desk, cooling her hot coffee.

  Koskinen liked how this felt—it reminded him of the times before his promotion to lieutenant. Co-workers had had the habit of dropping in all the time to unload their worries or share their joys, whether they were work related or personal. A long cool season had followed, but that had passed, little by little, and now at times it felt like no one even remembered Koskinen’s supervisory position.

  He spread the photographs out on his desk and began to think out loud on behalf of the group. “There’s something strange about these.”

  Ulla smiled in amusement. “Isn’t there always something strange about pictures of dead people?”

  Koskinen looked absentmindedly at her round knee in front of him. Ulla was leaning her right leg on the floor and resting her left buttock on the edge of the table. The hem of her beet-and-carrot salad-striped wool skirt had slid four inches above the knee.

  “Nothing in them tells anything about how he was killed,” Koskinen said, in a voice that was strangely plaintive even to himself.

  “We don’t even know if it is a homicide,” Pekki said. “It could have been a heart attack. Maybe the guy was just walking in the parking lot and keeled over mid-step.”

  “No one goes out dressed that lightly at night this late in the fall if they can help it,” Kaatio said, pointing at one of the pictures. “Except for some idiot joggers.”

  Koskinen bypassed Kaatio’s comment by partially agreeing. “And he doesn’t even have shoes on. That makes this reek of homicide.”

  “As does his position,” Ulla said. “Not many people are going to die like that on their own.”

  The pictures were black and white, high contrast, and in sharp focus, and the position of the man lying in them was oddly rag doll-like. As if the man had been whipped around in the air and then thrown down on the ground. The arms lolled this way and that, and the left leg was turned strangely under the right thigh. Still, he bore no visible external signs of violence. His eyes were open, their gaze empty.

  Koskinen took a magnifying glass from his desk drawer, waiting for the others’ sarcastic comments about how quickly people age. However, none came, and he inspected the face of the man lying in the picture for a long time.

  “He died by asphyxiation.”

  Pekki reacted immediately. “Now you’re a regular Nostradamus. How’d you figure that out so easily?”

  “There’s something strange about the face,” Koskinen said thoughtfully. “And in the eyes. The pupils look a little dilated...”

  He didn’t manage to finish his sentence before the others started making light of his observation.

  “That’s just guessing. He could’ve died a thousand other ways.”

  “And how did he suffocate all by himself out there in the parking lot? You’d think there would be plenty of oxygen out there.”

  “He was killed somewhere else and then transported there,” Koskinen tried. “His position reveals that, too.”

  But that still didn’t break the doubters’ resistance. “If someone’s trying to suffocate you to death, aren’t you going to do what you can to stop it? Jalonen just s
aid there weren’t any signs of violence on the body.”

  “Why didn’t he just run away?”

  Koskinen gathered the pictures into a pile. “That’s your job to find out. We’re not going to figure this out sitting here jawing about it. Get to work!”

  Pekki and Kaatio looked at the lieutenant indifferently, not moving a muscle. Ulla wagged her finger at them.

  “In the new catechism there’s a commandment you need to learn: thou shalt honor thy superior officer.”

  Pekki took his glasses off and started rubbing his eyes. “I guess we have to get to work then. Kaatio, you go out to the parking lot and see if Mäkitalo has found anything.”

  “Don’t mind if I do.”

  “There must have been some prints left in the wet ground, and any possible tire tracks need to be examined carefully in case the body really was driven there.”

  Pekki was starting to pick up speed, and Koskinen steered him unobtrusively. “It would be a good idea to figure out his identity as soon as possible... Without that it’s hard to get anywhere.”

  “Eskola can be our errand boy,” Pekki said, turning to Eskola. “First call the local radio stations, and then give a description to the reporters at Aamulehti. Remember to stress that the bulletin has to be canceled if we discover the victim’s identity before the paper goes to print.”

  “Understood,” Eskola said from the doorway, but that wasn’t enough for Pekki.

  “So what are you doing still standing there? Get a move on. Hup, hup!”

  Eskola disappeared into the hallway and closed the door behind him. Kaatio crossed his hands behind his neck and bounced his elbows backwards.

  “Are you sure Eskola can handle it? He might accidentally give his own description.”

  “What else can we have him do?” Pekki said and then turned to Ulla. “You start wading around in the databases. Who knows? Maybe this guy’s description will match one of our old customers.”

  “Why do I always have to stay here?” Ulla said, turning up her nose. “Don’t you have anything else?”

  “Well, let’s trade places then,” Pekki said, interrupting her. “You go to the autopsy; the ME promised to open up the body immediately. In fact, you should already be over there.”

  Ulla’s round face spread into a sweet smile, and Koskinen could already predict how she would cock her head. “Oh, you go ahead. And try to be back in time for lunch. As I remember, they’re serving kidneys in the canteen today. Or was it liver?” she said as affectionately as she knew how.

  Pekki pushed the chair out from under himself and only a couple of words of his morose mumbling were intelligible: “blood sausage” and “Tammela Square,” the preferred source for said delicacy. He left the room with his shoulders hunched, and Kaatio followed.

  Koskinen and Ulla were now alone. But Ulla still didn’t move to one of the free chairs, instead remaining seated on the desk corner. She was drawing invisible patterns on the surface of the desktop with her fingertip, and from this, Koskinen surmised that she had something on her mind.

  “I have a little something to ask you.”

  “Yeah?” Koskinen waited nervously.

  Ulla laid her palms on the table and leaned closer. The front of her blouse rounded attractively, and her thick blond hair slipped to her cheek from behind her ear.

  Koskinen could feel her warm breath on his forehead as she whispered. “Can I have tomorrow off?”

  “Off?” Koskinen repeated, disappointed, and wondering what he had really been expecting.

  Apparently Ulla interpreted her superior’s expression incorrectly, because she leaned back and started explaining. “I have plenty of banked overtime.”

  “I didn’t mean that—of course you can take a day off.”

  “Thanks.” Ulla smiled but then grew serious again when Koskinen asked why.

  “Why what?”

  “Why are you taking a day off?”

  Ulla craned in closer again.

  “Do I have to tell?” she whispered.

  “Of course not.”

  But she told him anyway: “I’m going to the doctor.”

  “Uh... Are you sick?”

  “Not really. It’s just a test.”

  “That shouldn’t take all day.”

  “It might even take longer than that.”

  Koskinen was now concerned. It couldn’t be a routine test if it was going to take the whole day. And the stronger his feelings of empathy became toward Ulla, the farther away his words escaped. All that came to mind was the same old it’ll-all-be-okay nonsense. But they knew each other—all of the years they had worked together had taught them to read each other’s thoughts.

  “You don’t have to say anything, Sakari.”

  They looked at each other for a long, silent moment. The wrinkles at the corners of Ulla’s eyes were more pronounced than they used to be, but they still didn’t age her a day. The smiling blue of her eyes had deepened, making them even easier to look at. He never felt the need to turn his gaze away.

  Ulla suddenly lifted her arm and stroked Koskinen’s cheek with the back of her hand. “How are you doing?”

  The question and her stress on the word “you” were disconcerting to Koskinen.

  “Doing...? What can I say? Things are good. It feels like I’m in the best shape of my life. I run ten miles, and I don’t even feel it the next day.”

  “It shows.”

  “Really?” Koskinen said, delighted.

  But Ulla’s face stayed serious, and her tone was like she was scolding a naughty child. “You need to stop losing weight. Your clothes are hanging off of you, and your cheeks are starting to sink in.”

  Koskinen didn’t know if he should take Ulla’s words as flattery or as a reprimand. However, as she continued, they distinctly became the latter.

  “You shouldn’t punish yourself for the divorce—it wasn’t just your fault. This masochism is pointless. Before long you’ll look like a prisoner in a concentration camp.”

  Koskinen looked at Ulla, thunderstruck. Although detective work required a deep knowledge of human nature, Ulla was still in the wrong line of work—she would earn much more as a professional clairvoyant.

  Ulla tilted her head to the side, sizing him up. “You didn’t look at all bad a little more chunky.”

  Even someone colorblind would have seen Koskinen’s embarrassment, and Ulla stopped teasing and jabbed him in the arm.

  “I didn’t really mean how you were doing physically when I asked you that.”

  “What then?”

  “I meant how are you doing otherwise.”

  Koskinen didn’t know what to say anymore or how to say it. He was feeling more and more awkward, and it didn’t help one bit when Ulla placed her hand on his wrist, which was resting on the desk.

  “I mean your relationships.” Now it was Ulla’s turn to have a hard time choosing her words. “I mean... Do you have anyone?”

  “Anyone?”

  “Yeah... You know what I mean. It’s not good to be alone very long.”

  Only now did Koskinen realize what Ulla was driving at. He laughed in bewilderment. “No, I don’t have anyone. Where would’ve I found anyone so fast?”

  “So fast?” Ulla raised her eyebrows slightly. “It’s been almost two years since Emilia left.”

  “Well, yeah, but I’m from Häme,” Koskinen said, trying to turn it into a joke. “Contemplation is half the meal.”

  Ulla was not deterred. “You still have a long life ahead of you, lots of good years. It would be a waste to spend them alone.”

  Koskinen didn’t know what to say to that. Ulla fell silent, and, from her focused, almost stern expression, it was apparent that she had something serious on her mind.

  “I’ve had something in mind for a while now, but I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

  Koskinen was startled, and the second of time Ulla was silent was long enough for him to start thinking about how he would react to her next
words. How would he respond? By all appearances, Ulla was happily married and...

  “Do you know Ursula Katajisto from Employee Health Services?”

  Koskinen jerked his wrist out from under Ulla’s hand. He was completely lost. “Ursula Katajisto? Of course I do. I mean, I don’t, but I know who she is. Isn’t she some sort of shrink?”

  Ulla smiled. “Something like that. She’s an occupational health psychiatrist.”

  Koskinen did not find this amusing. So Ulla wanted to bundle him off to a psychiatrist? Righteous indignation began climbing along his spine to his braincase.

  But he was wrong once again.

  “Ursula and I are good friends,” Ulla said. “Just last Friday we were sitting having coffee, chatting about this and that.”

  Koskinen still didn’t understand what this was about. He did remember Ursula Katajisto. She had occasionally helped profile criminals and interview seriously dissociative witnesses.

  The puzzle started to click into place after Ulla asked her next question.

  “Did you know that Ursula is single?” she said with a flicker of a grin across her lips.

  Koskinen shook his head in disbelief and let Ulla continue.

  “For some reason while we were picking out our Danishes, your name happened to come up. And Ursula was pretty direct about how much fun it might be to get to know ‘that big bear’ a little better.”

  “You don’t mean...”

  “I certainly do. I promised to ask if you’d like to go to lunch with her sometime.”

  Koskinen stared at Ulla’s violet amethyst ring and tried to remember what Ursula Katajisto looked like. At least the dark, lustrous hair and thin, straight nose had stuck in his mind. And when he thought about it more carefully, he remembered her long legs having caught his attention more than once. In fact, in a couple of meetings it had been hard to keep his eyes off of them.