Nothing but the Truth (15 page)

“Your client hasn’t said a word in any police interview. If it happened as you claim, then why is that?”

“He has his reasons.”

“And what are those?” Muuri persisted, pleased that the defense had taken the bait.

“He doesn’t trust the police to conduct an objective investigation.”

“And why not?”

Judge Tuomela interjected. “Prosecution, do you have anything else?”

Muuri kept her gaze fixed on Nyberg and Aaltonen.

“Just one small thing for now. Counsel Aaltonen neglected to mention whether, according to her client, Korpi was in the vehicle or not. Was he?”

Aaltonen turned to Nyberg, who shook his head. They whispered briefly. “We’ll touch on this when my client takes the stand, but for now I can say that according to my client, Korpi was not in the vehicle.”

“Who was, then?” asked Muuri. The value of Lehtonen’s testimony was going up by the second. But Korpi’s defense would try to derail it by any means necessary.

“My client does not wish to answer that.”

No surprise there, thought Muuri, but she kept her thoughts to herself. The modern courts appreciated more temperate prosecutors—the days of aggressive, unrestrained badgering were over. Judge Tuomela turned to Korpi’s counsel. “Defense, go ahead.”

Martin took a last glance at the papers on the table where he had outlined his relevant points. Korpi sat next to him in a pale gray sweater, trying to appear calm. With little effect—he seemed overly calm.

“My client denies all charges. He was not in the vehicle, as the prosecutor mistakenly claims. Vague observations of one individual witness during a random encounter are patently unreliable. Korpi does indeed know Nyberg, but he has no knowledge whatsoever of this incident. As Nyberg said, he shot at Salmela in self-defense, which my client had nothing to do with. Neither has my client had anything to do with drugs since his last conviction. I’d also like to point out on my client’s behalf that he has no obligation to prove his own innocence. The points outlined by the prosecutor in this court are pure speculation and based on assumptions rather than reality.”

CHAPTER 13

WEDNESDAY, 10:35 A.M.

SELLO SHOPPING CENTER, ESPOO

Christmas Eve was still eleven days off, but Takamäki had decided to get his shopping done early for once, and at a time of day when the malls weren’t teeming with crowds. The idea had struck him after leaving the Espoo police station nearby, and with nothing pressing at work, it seemed a good time for a shopping excursion. No problem, he had thought.

But once inside the atrium of the Sello Shopping Center, he was struck by the true dearth of his ideas. What to get his wife? The boys? Joutsamo? Suhonen? Takamäki felt like turning around and taking the elevator back to the parking ramp. Surely there would be time for this later. But he forced himself to take a step forward, and then another. Clothes? Hockey gear? Books? What would they want? Damn, maybe even this operation required a plan, thought Takamäki as he spotted a coffee shop. Maybe he could think about it over a cup of coffee. And maybe a list would help? Wandering aimlessly through the mall was hardly his idea of enjoyment.

The lieutenant sat at a table drinking his coffee from a paper cup. A few other customers were scattered about.

He had thought to buy a paper at the register, but decided to leave it on the rack. Time to concentrate on gifts, not tabloid news. All the headlines were about the antics of a member of parliament on the ferry to Tallinn. Takamäki wondered if it was all a publicity stunt for the upcoming elections. Not likely, though someone had once claimed that any publicity is good publicity when it came to politics.

Christmas presents, he reminded himself…still at a loss. Maybe some jewelry or a book for Kaarina. Something like that. And the boys? Some books, video games or sports stuff? Toys? Maybe…but what kind?

Takamäki finished off the last of his coffee. Christmas shopping was not his cup of tea. He decided to return to the station, knowing he’d come to regret it. The shopping wouldn’t do itself. Urgency was his best motivator, and with eleven days to go, that was still lacking.

He decided to drop the car off at home, which was within walking distance of the Leppävaara train station. His team would be gathering for an informal Christmas party that evening, and a few beers were probably in the cards. This way, he could head straight to the restaurant from work.

* * *

It was almost eleven-thirty, and Joutsamo and Lehtonen were sitting in the witness room quietly reading. Joutsamo had the memoirs of a foreign legion soldier and Lehtonen a translation of a novel based on the lives of a group of New York women. An hour earlier, the bailiff had stopped by during a

recess to tell them that several witnesses had already testified.

Joutsamo knew that a financial crimes officer had testified on the significance of the fragments of data found on Korpi’s computer. Another officer had testified on the crime scene. Among the prosecutor’s witnesses was a narcotics officer who had investigated Korpi’s cocaine business based on the initial intelligence that Suhonen had gathered. An organized crime specialist from the National Bureau of Investigation had also made the list.

The door opened and both women startled. “It’s time,” said the bailiff. “The court calls Mari Lehtonen. Room 001.”

“Alright, then,” said Joutsamo as Lehtonen rose. “Just try to relax.”

“Yeah. I will.”

Joutsamo was glad to see a display of resoluteness from Mari. The sergeant remained seated as Mari followed the bailiff out.

At the end of a short hallway they came to the door leading into the courtroom. The bailiff opened it and let Lehtonen inside. She felt confused, lingering at a small wooden table by the door, her eyes scanning the courtroom. In addition to the judge, there were three jurors behind the bench. Prosecutor Muuri stood straight ahead, about thirty feet away, while the defendants and a group of guards sat behind the iron railing. A crowd of onlookers were seated in the back of the room.

“Good morning,” said Judge Tuomela. “Are you Mari Lehtonen?”

“Yes.”

“Could you please approach the bench?”

Lehtonen did so. Just in front of the bench, resting on its own lectern, was a large, open Bible.

“Do you belong to the church?”

“Yes.”

“Then typically you would take the oath, but you can also choose a secular affirmation.”

“The oath is fine.”

“Good. Repeat after me. I, Mari Lehtonen.”

Before she began, she wondered if she should put two fingers on the Bible like they did on TV. Apparently not, since the judge hadn’t mentioned it. Lehtonen felt a mixture of confidence and self-doubt. She was confident she could relate what she saw, but the circumstances made her doubt herself.

“I, Mari Lehtonen.”

The drill was a familiar one for the judge and he rattled it off at a quick pace. Lehtonen repeated dutifully. “Swear by Almighty God…that the evidence I shall give…shall be the truth…the whole truth…and nothing but the truth.”

“Keep this oath in mind and tell the unvarnished truth,” said the judge, and he directed Lehtonen to take the stand. “Please sit. We’ll be recording your testimony, so speak clearly into the microphone.”

Lehtonen looked at the microphone, the same kind used by Formula One drivers in post-race interviews: a stand with a long stem and a small capsule. A red light on the base popped on.

“Prosecution, go ahead,” said the judge.

Muuri began, “Mari Lehtonen, you were on Porvoo Street on Sunday, the seventeenth of September, at four-thirty in the afternoon. Tell us in your own words what you saw.”

“Okay. Well, I was going to the convenience store and there, kind of in front of it, was a blue Mazda that was double parked. I wondered what it was doing there and so I looked inside. There was a man behind the wheel, so I figured he was just waiting for someone from the store. Then I went home.”

Muuri cringed a little at that last part—Lehtonen had just revealed that she lived nearby. At least she hadn’t recited her address. Muuri brushed it off and continued, “Take a look at the individuals in this courtroom. Is the man you saw in the car present here?”

Lehtonen let her gaze wander until it came to rest on Korpi.

“That’s him,” she said, nodding.

“Which one?”

“That one, right there.” Lehtonen extended a finger in Korpi’s direction and their eyes met. She disliked his cold stare. It was the same stare he had in the photograph, the same bald head and rigid features.

“Let the court note for the record that the witness is pointing to Risto Korpi. I’d like to ask again, are you absolutely certain? And remember the oath you just took.”

“Yes, I’m absolutely certain.”

“What was the man doing in the car?”

“Nothing. He was sitting in the driver’s seat with his hands on the wheel.”

“How did you get in contact with the police?”

“I saw an article in the newspaper and I remembered the car. The police were asking for eyewitnesses, so I thought I should call.”

“How did you identify Korpi once you were at the police station?”

“The police had me look through a bunch of

photographs. Then the next day I came in for a police lineup.”

“In those two instances, were you just as certain as you are now that the man in the car was Korpi?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have no further questions.”

“Defense, your turn,” said Judge Tuomela.

Martin stood up. “I have a few questions, too,” he said in a plucky tone. “What sort of work do

you do?”

Lehtonen was somewhat taken aback. “Uhh, I work in an office.”

“For what company?”

Muuri interjected before Lehtonen could respond. “The question has no bearing on the case.”

“Yes, it does. It’s my responsibility to evaluate the reliability of the witness. A janitor can work in an office, too.”

“A janitor’s testimony is every bit as reliable as anyone else’s,” said Muuri.

“She said that she works in an office—that will suffice,” said the judge dryly.

“I noticed that you’re not wearing eyeglasses. Do you wear glasses at work?”

“No. I don’t need them.”

Martin paused briefly and glanced at his papers. “When was the last time you went to an optometrist?”

Muuri cut in before Lehtonen could respond. “Objection. Irrelevant.”

“Sustained. Let’s stay on topic.”

“Well, then,” Martin grumbled. “How can you be so certain that the man in the car was the same as this man here, sitting next to me?”

“Uhh, well… Because I saw him.”

“Just like that, you saw him?”

“Yes.”

The lawyer’s questions were beginning to annoy her, but she tried to stay calm like she had been told.

“Would you say you have a sort of photographic memory?”

“I’m not sure how to answer that. Maybe.”

“In psychology, the term ‘photographic memory’ refers to an ability to remember an image in vivid detail. Some people can memorize a page of a telephone book in minutes. Do you have that ability, Ms. Lehtonen?”

“I don’t think I could memorize a telephone book.”

“So you
don’t
have a photographic memory.”

Muuri spoke up again, “Objection, leading. The witness never claimed to have a photographic memory.”

“Martin, get to the point,” the judge said.

The attorney fixed his eyes on Lehtonen’s. “Keep your eyes on mine for the time being. If your memory is as good as you claim, you should be able to describe Ms. Muuri’s clothing, right? Go ahead, no peeking, please.”

Muuri tried to object, but Lehtonen had already begun. Her eyes never wavered from Martin’s, “She’s wearing a gray pantsuit with a white shirt and a necklace with a reddish stone. She’s not wearing glasses and her hair is brown and medium length.”

Martin was dumbfounded by her answer—there was a pause of a few seconds. “What was the license plate number of the Mazda you saw?”

Lehtonen recited a plate number beginning

with K.

“How many stacks of paper does Ms. Muuri have in front of her?”

“Three.”

The judge interjected this time. “I think we’ve had enough of your memory games, Martin.”

“Then I have no further questions.”

“Alright,” said Judge Tuomela, turning to Nyberg’s counsel. “Aaltonen, would you like to cross-examine?”

“No, thank you.”

The judge nodded and turned back toward the witness stand. “Do you require any compensation for expenses or loss of wages? You’re eligible for half a day’s pay.”