Behind God's Back (23 page)

Semeyev must have entered through the back door, because the SUPO stake-out man hadn't noticed him. I almost felt sorry for the guy who had been on duty at the time.

Nurmio presumably knew Semeyev, because he had let him in. The gun we had found at Semeyev's side had been fired once. A .22 calibre bullet was found in one of the cupboards in the kitchenette. It had pierced the door and bored into the back wall. In addition to being the right calibre, Semeyev's gun was the right make, a Margolin. It looked like Semeyev had killed both Max and Jacobson.

The bullets that had killed Semeyev, on the other hand, had been fired from a 9 mm.

Sillanpää had been just as mystified as I was. On top of it, he cursed the fact that Semeyev had been shot while SUPO was staking out the premises. That wouldn't look good in the reports, especially if it got leaked to the press.

A huge bolt of lightning lit up the sky, and the thunder followed only a few seconds later. The thunderstorm was right overhead now. It was like the sky was pummelling the city in its ribs. Rain drummed against the windowsill at an ever-intensifying pace, and the wind picked up until the large linden in the courtyard of the building opposite was forced to bend to it. A woman was running down the street with an umbrella, trying to get into her portico. The umbrella turned inside out from the force of the wind. She found her keys and dove into the shelter of the stairwell.

Like a lot of old-fashioned people, Mom had been afraid
of thunderstorms and had rushed around unplugging all the appliances as soon as she heard any rumbling. She told us stories from her childhood of lightning balls entering a home through the telephone, circling the room and exiting through the window…

My cell phone rang. I glanced at the screen: blocked.

“Is this Detective Kafka?”

“Who's asking?”

“Someone you've been pretty eager to find these past few days – at least according to the papers.”

“Nurmio?”

“No, Leo Meir. I've already got used to my new name. Are you interested in meeting me?”

“Why? I'm not —”

“This is an offer that will not come again. Do you want to meet me or not?”

“Of course —”

“Good. Where are you?”

“Central Helsinki. Punavuori.”

“Good. Then fifteen minutes is enough. Does your phone have enough battery?”

I glanced at the power symbol. Four bars. “Yes.”

“Keep your phone on the whole time so I can hear you. Put on a warm coat and head towards Iso Roobertinkatu. Do it now… And leave your gun at home so there aren't any accidents.”

I followed his instructions and at the same time wondered what I should do. I didn't have a landline and couldn't call anyone; besides, Nurmio would have heard me. I walked down the stairs and out of the door, headed left and, at the next intersection, turned onto Fredrikinkatu. The wind was blowing from behind me, from the sea, and I took shelter between two buildings. The rain had eased off a little.

“Where are you?” Nurmio asked.

“Freda.”

“Good. Tell me when you're at the corner of Iso Roobertinkatu.”

That didn't take longer than a minute. “Now.”

“Continue towards Bulevardi.”

I followed his directions.

“Turn onto Uudenmaankatu,” Nurmio said, and a moment later added: “And take the next left onto Annankatu.”

I had almost reached Bulevardi when Nurmio said: “Stop.”

I stopped and looked around.

“Turn back.”

I turned and walked back towards Iso Roobertinkatu.

“Stop. There's a silver Opel station wagon in front of you. Get in on the driver's side.”

I saw the Opel. It was parked in front of an antique shop. I could see someone sitting in the passenger seat.

I looked into the car. I had no problem recognizing Nurmio. He was wearing a dark sports coat and a burgundy tie. He pointed at the driver's seat. I paused for a moment, then made my decision. I opened the door and sat down at the wheel.

“Pleasure to meet you, despite the fact that I'm not a big fan of the police. Start up the car, and we'll go for a little drive.”

I started up and headed towards Bulevardi. I slowed down as we approached the intersection, and Nurmio immediately told me which way to go. “Take a left… If you know who I am, why haven't you told the press? No decent picture, not even a name, even though you have both.”

I didn't answer.

“It's all the same. I didn't ask you here to answer my questions, but to listen.”

“Suits me.”

“I didn't kill Jacobson, so you're looking for the wrong guy.”

“Who did, then?”

Nurmio grunted. “Don't underestimate me. I noticed that you guys have already paid a visit to my lodgings. You found the answer there, didn't you?”

“Igor Semeyev?”

“He's a killer for the Russian mafia. You ran tests on his gun, didn't you? It was probably used to shoot Jacobson and Oxbaum.”

Nurmio was right. The gun had been fast-tracked through the tests, and it had been confirmed that it had been used to shoot both Jacobson and Oxbaum.

“And you shot Semeyev?”

“I had to. The shithead tried to shoot me, and he almost didn't miss. We've known each other for years, but it just goes to show you can't trust anyone.”

“Why did he try to kill you?”

“Someone had given him orders. Semeyev doesn't kill for fun.”

“Who is the someone behind the orders?”

“Stop for a second.”

I found a parking place off of Hietalahdentori Square.

“I'm not sure, but I can offer you a few good candidates. I've been making some calls and poking around since I killed Semeyev. I'm starting to get to the heart of what's going on. I think you'll be interested in hearing what I have to say.”

I admitted I was. “Can I take notes?”

“Go for it. You've probably looked into my background. What do you know about it?”

“You were suspected of narcotics violations and —”

“I mean the period when I was in the Middle East,” Nurmio said.

“You're suspected of having done favours for the Mossad, because you received Israeli citizenship so quickly.”

Nurmio laughed.

“You could say that again. I did them a lot of favours: big favours. I saved the Mossad a lot of headaches.”

“And now you're working for a company owned by Benjamin Hararin. And Hararin in turn works for Amos Jakov.”

“Also true. Good. Nice to see someone do their homework properly. Jakov and I met when he was still in the Mossad. I was his subordinate and carried out his orders. He's an intelligent
man; I'm not at all surprised he made a fortune in business. He had old criminal contacts in Russia, and he used all the knowledge a high-level Mossad leader has to his advantage, and that's saying a lot. He's so rich and powerful these days that no one sneezes in Israel without him knowing it. Ten years ago, I was conducting some business of my own in Syria and Lebanon and doing a few favours for Jakov on the side. When I got back to Israel, he hired me to work for his company, in security.”

“Is he the one who sent you to Finland?”

“In a way.”

“If you didn't kill Jacobson, what were your orders?”

“To remind him, Oxbaum and a few other people that they owed certain parties a debt of gratitude. They were starting to forget. I was also supposed to ensure that they behaved themselves and didn't cause any trouble.”

“What trouble could they have caused? Are you talking about the Baltic Invest loans?”

“So you know about them, too. You've been busy. Oxbaum was awarded the Finnish loan business because he knew Hararin's business partner. He arranged a loan for Jacobson and saved his son from personal bankruptcy and forfeiture of assets.”

“Roni?”

“Beautiful women and expensive tastes can be a dangerous combination.”

“Did the father know about it?”

“He didn't hear about it until a few weeks ago.”

Nurmio eyed me. “I think it's time we started talking about what we could give each other. I can give you information, but what would I get in return?”

“The police don't bargain…”

“Too bad for you.”

“…but I'll listen to anything you want to tell me.”

“That's starting to sound better already. I didn't kill Jacobson,
although I know it looks like I did. And that's because that was the intent. Someone wants to frame me as the culprit. As soon as I realized that, my eyes were opened. I was led like a lamb to the slaughter, but not any more. The first thing I want is for you to take my story into consideration, and not believe everything they're trying to get you to believe. The people behind this know what they're doing.”

“That's an easy promise to make.”

“Maybe, but I have no intention of coming down to headquarters and telling you this on tape. I had my fill of prison in my past life.”

“I can't promise that you won't be arrested. You admitted to shooting Semeyev. Even if it was in self-defence, something like that can't be overlooked.”

“What if I can prove that Semeyev tried to kill me? OK, he's a killer and he had a gun, but I'm no Boy Scout either. That means jail time, at least with my background, even though I'm actually a pretty nice guy.”

Nurmio glanced at me. A smile flickered across his face, but vanished just as quickly.

“If you can prove the threat, it will be interpreted as justifiable self-defence.”

Nurmio didn't appear to be listening. “I have a nice home in a place where oranges grow. The climate in Finland is horrible and the food disagrees with me. I find all of that depressing. I'll help you however I can, and then I'll clear out of here and spend the rest of my days keeping my nose clean and browsing the Catechism. How does that sound?”

“I can't promise —”

“That's what I thought. You Finnish cops are such choirboys. In Israel, we know how to cut deals. The Jews are a trading people. You must be the exception who makes the rule.”

“It would help you if we knew who Semeyev was working for and we were able to get proof that he killed Jacobson. The neighbours saw you at the scene of the crime.”

“I know. I was wondering why they wanted to know so damn precisely what time I would be going to see Jacobson. Because I was being framed as the murderer.”

“Why did you go there?”

“Like I said, I was trying to put his mind at ease so we could discuss things like civilized people. He thought I was a killer, and didn't dare to meet me. I couldn't come up with anything else. Now I see that the other side scared him into locking himself up at home.”

“Who wanted to know about your visit?”

Nurmio laughed. “We'll talk about that later.”

“What about Max Oxbaum? We have surveillance camera footage of your meeting.”

“Was it from a service station in Vantaa?”

I didn't answer. “Why did you two meet?”

“I needed Oxbaum's help. At the same time, I was trying to get him to understand that he'd better leave Baltic Invest alone, or at least not go around blabbing about its affairs. It wasn't an easy balance to strike. Kind of the same thing as with Jacobson.”

“You needed help? With what?”

“OK. I think it's high time I let you in on something that might take some pressure off you.”

Nurmio reached into his pocket and handed me a plastic card. I turned on the light in the sun visor and inspected it.

“Are you telling me that you're still working for the Mossad?”

“Isn't that what that says?”

That's what it said. There was also a photo on the card.

“I'm here on a job that seems to have gone totally fucking haywire. Now you can stop worrying and listen to what I have in mind.”

I opened the window and inhaled the brisk sea air to clear my head.

“Shoot.”

24

I had to admit that Nurmio's revelation took me completely by surprise. Even though the card looked genuine, I couldn't shake off my disbelief.

“If you want, you can call my boss in Tel Aviv and check it out. Contact is only allowed in emergencies, but I'm pretty sure this counts as one.”

“Let's forget that for now. You'd better just tell me what this is about and what you want.”

“All right. Why don't we agree that you don't take notes after all? I'm here because the Mossad and the Israeli police are jointly investigating Jakov's connections to organized crime and the related bribing of officials. I was asked to infiltrate Jakov's organization, and two years ago I managed to get back on his payroll because I'd known him in the past. I told him that I'd got the boot from the Mossad a long time ago and had been conducting some business of my own in Syria and Lebanon. Which I had, but that had been part of the cover.”