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Authors: Harri Nykanen

BOOK: Nights of Awe
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“Do you have any theories about what the car was doing in Kerava if it was being used by the man who was killed at Linnunlaulu, and what the young man who was found in the car had to do with it?” Tuulia asked.
I replied that my theories still had gaps in them.
“Let’s hear them anyway.”
“Maybe someone was waiting in the car while two others met on the bridge. He saw what happened to them and fled the scene. He figured that there would be a search for the car and drove it far enough away to hide it. Rontu happened to be at the sandpit and so the perpetrator was forced to kill him. Afterwards he ignited the car. Or maybe the man who died at Linnunlaulu simply lived out there and came to Helsinki by train.”
Tuulia looked a little disappointed.
“Couldn’t the sandpit guy – Rontu, was that the name? – be one of the killers?”
I said I didn’t believe he was.
“You don’t? This Rontu has a criminal record. I think it’s a bit too much of a coincidence that he would just happen to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
I hesitated for a second, but then I decided to play my Israeli card.

Manjak!
” Tuulia repeated. “Based on one curse word we’re supposed to believe that the perpetrators were Israeli? So if the word ‘fuck’ had been used on the bridge, we’d assume that one of the crooks was American? We can’t afford to be labelled anti-Semites on such flimsy grounds.”
“It’s pretty hard to accuse me of being an anti-Semite,” I said. Huovinen laughed.
“It’s not a matter of one police officer, but of the entire organization,” Tuulia snapped.
“I’m just repeating what a witness heard.”
“One witness.”
“Another witness is also certain that there were foreigners speaking a language that sounded like Arabic on the bridge. It’d be nice to hear what SUPO thinks.”
Sillanpää sat up a little straighter.
“About what?”
“Do you believe that the killers could have been Israeli?”
“The killers could just as easily be African Bantus or Indian fakirs as Israeli. The citizens of every country kill each other. We haven’t got to the point where the lamb and the lion go frolicking around in peace and harmony.”
Leivo frowned.
“Let’s stay on track, shall we?”
Leivo indicated the tabloids in front of him. I had taken a glance at the articles. Both of them referred to an anonymous source according to whom the method used to execute the three dead men was similar to the one used by the Israeli intelligence agency Mossad. All of them had been shot multiple times in the upper body and once or twice in the head. In addition, there was a direct quote from the paper’s “Arab source”, who considered the killings part of Israel’s policy of assassination, designed to sabotage the emergence of an independent Palestine and fan conflict within the Arab community.
“Does anyone know anything about this?”
Everyone glanced around, but no one said a word. I eventually asked Sillanpää: “What sort of cooperation does SUPO have with the Israeli security police?”
“The same kind as with the intelligence services of other friendly nations. We exchange information when necessary.”
“Have you exchanged information in this instance?”
“I’m not authorized to give out information regarding intelligence cooperation.”
“That’s too bad. If the killers are Israeli, we have to suspect that the perpetrators are Israeli intelligence agency personnel. It’s pretty hard to imagine Israeli civilians getting up to something like this on their own here. And Mossad has operated abroad before, even in the Nordic countries.”
Sillanpää snorted dismissively.
I ignored him and continued: “And if it is Mossad, that means that the victims were terrorists. They’re not interested in normal criminals.”
During my officer’s training, I had read all the literature on Mossad that I could get my hands on, and I was sure I knew more about the topic that anyone else present, with the possible exception of Sillanpää.
“What do you think, Inspector Sillanpää?” asked Chief Tuulia, mustering all the authority he could. But Sillanpää was not to be shaken.
“It’s hard for me to imagine a reason why Mossad would come to Finland to kill Arabs whom they suspect of being terrorists. They have enough problems of their own. All they would have needed to do is give us the information, and we would have taken care of it.”
I was starting to get annoyed with Sillanpää.
“Everyone knows that Mossad executes pre-emptive and retaliatory strikes on foreign territory. Maybe they got their hands on some information that gave them a reason to strike.”
Everyone turned back to look at Sillanpää.
“There are all kinds of legends and fairy tales going around about Mossad,” he said. “The majority probably started by Mossad itself. They make mistakes just like everyone else. In Lillehammer, Norway, they killed an innocent Moroccan-born waiter because they thought he was a terrorist. Five Mossad workers and aides who had participated in the assassination operation were convicted. In reality, Mossad is the same kind of intelligence and security service as all the rest, and conforms to the same laws. The bosses are equally stupid everywhere; all they think about is their careers and all they care about is getting a pat on the back from their superiors.”
He glanced instinctively at Commander Tuulia. It was like someone had pressed a Stop button, the silence was so sudden. Sillanpää continued, as if he hadn’t noticed anything: “Generally speaking, of course. Besides, Finland and Israel are friends. Operating here illegally would be such a big risk for relations that it would require approval at a ministerial level.”
Tuulia and Leivo clearly took Sillanpää’s remark about the stupidity of bosses personally.
Tuulia spoke: “There’s no point wasting time debating; we don’t have enough facts for that yet. I’d like to hear some constructive suggestions, if anyone has any. I’ve decided that the photos of the deceased will be released to the media, if his identity is not ascertained this afternoon.”
No one had any suggestions, and the commander ended the meeting. I was about to leave when Tuulia gestured me aside.
He still looked grim.
“I’ve had several people contact me about you.”
“What about?”
Tuulia cleared his throat.
“Regarding, shall we say, a conflict of interest.”
“A conflict of interest?”
“A Jew investigating the murders of Arabs. I’ll tell you frankly that doubts have been presented that suggest that, due to your Jewish background, you might not have the motivation to find the perpetrators.”
Even though I had suspected something like this, I was still offended.
“I’m first and foremost a police officer, second a Finn, and only third a Jew.”
The commander eyed me for a moment but then gave a strained smile.
“Well said. I’m sure you’ll do your best.”
Tuulia nodded and left, escorted by Leivo. Huovinen, who had been waiting in the sidelines, came over to me.
“What was that all about?”
I told him.
“Such bullshit,” Huovinen sighed.
I went to Simolin’s office. I was just stepping in when my phone rang. It was my brother.
“It’s kind of a bad moment…”
That wasn’t going to stop Eli.
“We need to meet you, Silberstein and I.”
“I’m busy, in case you didn’t notice.”
I was annoyed by the fact that my big brother Eli took it for granted that I would be at his beck and call.
“So are we. We can come there if you just tell us when.”
“What’s this about?”
“You’ll find out. I think you’ll find it interesting, too.”
I gave in. “At one at the Hotel Pasila, but fifteen minutes, tops.”
“Thanks, we’ll see you there.”
I stepped into Simolin’s room, where I also found Stenman. Simolin was busy doing something at his computer.
“Anything in the latest tip-offs?”
Simolin spun around in his chair.
“Nothing special, but the medical examiner confirmed that the body that the nose and ears had been cut from wasn’t shot until after being stabbed in the chest with a knife, and only after he was lying on the ground. Pretty bizarre, at least when you think about the time, the place and the conditions under which it all happened.”
I thought about the time, the place and the conditions. A meeting on the bridge, which was packed with joggers and commuters every morning. Someone follows one of the people coming to the meeting, the person coming to the meeting is surprised, one of them is killed, and there’s an attempt to kidnap the other one. He manages to get away, pulls out a gun, but falls to the roof of the train and dies. Those who attempted the kidnapping try to escape in a white minivan that had been spotted the previous night in Vartiokylä, where an Iraqi body-shop owner and his employee had been killed. Bizarre was the wrong word, though. That impression just resulted from the fact that our information was incomplete. When we got more information, the logic of events would be revealed.
“What about the security cameras?” I asked Stenman.
“Nothing on them either. I’ll get the cassette from the Siilitie metro station soon, but the camera doesn’t cover the car park, and I don’t think the men who dumped the car left by metro. Everyone knows that there are surveillance cameras in the metro.”
“But they still left the area somehow. Try to pinpoint the time the car was abandoned and figure out what public transportation serves the area.”
“I’ll try, but I’m sure they were picked up in a car.”
Oksanen stormed in in his coat. He was wearing a copy-company scarf and a sweatshirt from a German car manufacturer.
“What’s next?” Oksanen asked. He was two hours late, but I didn’t ask where he had been. He always had a slate of good excuses and I was tired of listening to them.
I remembered Lieutenant Toivola and called him on the spot.
“I was just about to call you. You guessed right, the girl was injured in the fire. She went to the health centre in Korso to get her burn wounds treated. We have a name and an address. We’re going to pay her a visit. You want to join?”
“Definitely.”
Then I remembered that I had promised to meet my brother and Silberstein.
“I have to be back by one.”
“We won’t even be cutting it close,” Toivola said optimistically. “And one other thing. The serial on the car’s chassis has been checked. It’s the car you’re looking for.”
He gave me the girl’s address. We agreed to meet in front of the house.
I filled in Stenman, Oksanen and Simolin on the latest from Toivola.
“It’d be good if you came along,” I said to Stenman. “The girl might be in a state of shock; she might be more willing to speak to a woman.”
I told Oksanen to go through the tapes from the metro station camera that Stenman had been promised. Oksanen glanced at his watch with a frown. He had probably set up a negotiation with one of the sponsors of the police-guild rally club. I trusted Simolin so much that I gave him free rein to decide what to do.
 
The house was almost new and looked expensive. It clearly wasn’t a prefab; it had been designed by an architect. From the road you saw a high, white plastered wall and narrow vertical windows. There was a glossy metallic black BMW hatchback in the drive and a “Beware of the Dog” sign on the gate.
The door was opened by a woman of about forty. She smelt trouble and had her defences up from the start. A short-legged beagle that didn’t look the tiniest bit aggressive scampered at her feet. I allowed Toivola, as the senior officer, to handle the introductions.
“I’m sorry, but I’m in a hurry. Could you come back some other day?”
“Unfortunately we’re in a hurry too,” Toivola said.
“I was just leaving.”
Toivola didn’t let up.
“I’m afraid that’s too bad,” he said.
The woman didn’t make the slightest indication of inviting us in. She stepped out and pulled the door closed behind her.
“The matter concerns your daughter. Her burn wounds were treated at the Korso health centre. We’d like a word with her.”
“She’s sleeping.”
“We’re going to have to ask you to wake her up.”
The woman crossed her arms across her chest. She was clearly defending her nest.
“Don’t you understand? She’s sick and she’s sleeping. She’s taken a powerful sedative.”
But Toivola was relentless in his persistence. The woman realized she wouldn’t be able to get rid of us and gave up.

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