The Year of the Hare (5 page)

“Nilsiä Police Station, Heikkinen speaking. Ah. All right, we’ll pick him up tomorrow. Oh, quiet enough, just one case this evening.”

The duty officer regarded Vatanen as if estimating what sort of case this was.

“We had a call about him—Laurila, it was. Evidently attempted breaking and entering. Seems decent enough. Just brought in. Bye, now.”

He hung up.

“Social-welfare officer. We’ll have to go and pick up Hanninen tomorrow—otherwise he won’t move, apparently.”

The duty officer gave Vatanen an interrogative look. He arranged a few papers on his desk, and then summoned a more official tone.

“Yes ... this business. May I see your papers?”

Vatanen gave him his wallet. The officer took out the identification papers and a wad of banknotes. The others came over to see the contents. The duty officer studied the identification papers and then began counting the money. It took quite a while; the duty officer’s level voice echoed in the room as he went on with his work. It was like tallying the final results of a presidential election.

He whistled. “Two thousand seven hundred and eight dollars.”

There was a silence.

Then Vatanen explained: “I sold my boat.”

“You don’t happen to have the receipt with you?”

Vatanen had to admit he didn’t.

“Never had a wad like that in my wallet in all my life,” one of the arresting constables said.

“Me, neither,” said the other, darkly.

“Are you the Vatanen who writes for them weeklies?” the duty officer asked.

Vatanen nodded.

“So what’s your business in these parts, then? Some writing job, is it? Seeing you’ve got that hare with you?”

No, Vatanen said. He wasn’t on assignment. Where, he asked, could he spend the night? He was getting more than a bit tired.

“We’ve got this charge against you, though. Dr. Laurila’s. He’s the local doctor. He’s told us to detain you. That’s all I have to go on.”

Vatanen said he didn’t see how some Laurila could simply take it on himself to have whomever he liked detained.

“Anyway, it’s our duty to make some inquiries, seeing you’ve got all that cash on your person. And what’s the meaning of this hare? The local doctor claims you attempted to break in, coerced him to call for a taxi ...
and
threateningly demanded overnight accommodations. Quite enough there to keep you in custody—though not implying any very big issue, of course. If only you’d say what your business here is.”

Vatanen explained that he had left his home and his job, that he was in fact on strike. He hadn’t yet managed to decide what he would do next. In the meantime, he was having a look around this part of the country.

“I’d best get in touch with the boys in Kuopio,” the duty officer decided and dialed a number. “Hello, Heikkinen here, from Nilsiä. Evening. We’ve got an odd case here.... To start with, he’s toting a tame hare around. A journalist, he is. Criminal charges were phoned in—been disturbing the peace, trying to force entry into a house for the night.... Yes, and in his wallet he’s got two thousand seven hundred-odd in notes. He seems all there, though. That’s not why I’m calling—it’s what to do with him. He wants to leave.... Yes, I can certainly put it in writing as well.... He says he’s not doing anything in particular—just having a look around these parts with his hare. Not drunk, either—no, decent enough looking. Yes. But it could cause a hassle. . . . You don’t say.... Right, well, we’d better hang on to him then, I suppose.... So thanks a lot. Raining, quite a downpour here, been coming down the whole day ... So long.

“The boys in Kuopio say they’d keep you inside overnight, no matter what. You’re a vagrant, and in possession of all that cash—added to which there’s the criminal charge. So—do you accept all that?”

“Can’t you call the district superintendent? Surely you’re not under the authority of Kuopio.”

“I’d have called him to start with, but the superintendent’s out fishing at this moment in time. He won’t be back till tenish, if then. I’m unfortunately the most senior officer here. Kuopio advised not turning you loose under any circumstances. Anyway, where would you go now, on a wet night like this?”

“But where are you going to put this hare?” Vatanen added, with a touch of malice.

Attention again focused on the hare, whose basket had been moved from table to floor during the counting. From down there, the young hare was peacefully following the progress of the interrogation. It saw a new problem dawning for the police.

“Hmm . . . where to put that hare, then . . . So what if we confiscate it, for the state—and let it out in the forest? It’d surely manage okay there.”

Vatanen produced the license he’d obtained in Mikkeli.

“I have an official permit to keep this animal in my care. It cannot be confiscated, or illegally turned loose—deprived of my protection, in other words. You can’t put it in a cell, either. A cell’s too unsanitary a place for a sensitive wild animal. It could perish.”

“I could take it home for the night,” one of the younger constables offered.

But Vatanen had an objection: “Only if you’re trained in the management of wild hares and possess an appropriate hutch. In addition, the animal definitely requires special foods—meadow vetchling, and many other special herbs. Otherwise it could die of food poisoning. If anything happened to the hare, you’d be liable, and animals of this quality are costly.”

The hare was following the interchange; it appeared to nod during Vatanen’s words.

“A fine mess,” the duty officer exploded. “You’d better get out of here. Come back tomorrow, for interrogation. Ten sharp. And take that hare with you.”

“Hold on,” the young constables warned. “What’ll Laurila say when he hears that? And what do we know about this fellow? Look at that money. Yet he hasn’t even got a car. Where’s he from? Is he really Vatanen, in fact?”

“Yes ... Hm. Don’t go yet. Have to think. Bit of a bind—the super’s out fishing. Anyone got a cig?”

Vatanen offered more cigarettes. Again they smoked. Nothing was said for quite a while.

Finally, the younger constable said to Vatanen: “Don’t get us wrong. We’ve got nothing against you personally, you know, nothing at all, but we have our regulations—for ourselves, too, us police. Without that hare, for example, everything’d be so much simpler. Look at it from our point of view. For all we know, you might be a murderer. Could have bumped someone off before you left Helsinki ... gone out of your mind, perhaps, wandering aimlessly around here. In fact, you
are
wandering aimlessly—you might be a danger to the whole community.”

“Let’s not overdo it,” the duty officer said. “No one’s talking about murder.”

“But we could be, in theory. I don’t say we are, but we could easily be.”

“Just as easily, I could be a murderer myself,” the duty officer snorted. He stubbed out his cigarette, gave the hare an angry stare, and then: “Let’s do it this way. Stay here regardless—in this duty room if you like—till I can call up the superintendent. That’ll be in a couple of hours or so. Then we’ll get it all straightened out. Meanwhile, take a nap on that bunk, if you’re tired. We can have some coffee if you want. What’s all the hurry? How does that sound?”

Vatanen accepted the offer.

The hare, in its basket, was put on a night-duty bed at the back of the room. Vatanen asked if he could have a look at the sort of cell accommodations they had at Nilsiä Police Station. The duty officer willingly got up to show him. The whole company trooped to the lockup, and the duty officer opened one of the doors and explained: “These are nothing special—mostly we only get drunks. We do get people from Tahkovuori sometimes. We’ve had some quite important people inside, too.”

There were two adjoining cells: modest rooms. The windows, frosted wired glass, had no bars. Screwed to the wall there was a tubular bed, a lidless toilet, and a chair, also fastened immovably. A lamp without a lampshade dangled from the ceiling.

“They generally smash that lamp in their rage, and so they get to sit in the dark. Should put a steel frame around it—the tallest can jump that high.”

The policemen made some coffee. Vatanen went to lie down on the duty-room bed. The officers chatted about Vatanen’s case in subdued tones, thinking he was asleep. He overheard the men’s assessment of Laurila. All in all, they thought it a pretty unusual case: best to proceed cautiously at the start. Vatanen dozed off.

Later, about ten, the duty officer woke Vatanen. The superintendent had been contacted and was on his way. Vatanen rubbed his eyes, looked at the basket by his feet, and saw it was empty.

“The boys are out in the forecourt with it. We saw it didn’t run away, and we thought it might be hungry, so we procured some of that meadow vetchling you mentioned. Quite a meal it’s had, in fact.”

The younger constables re-entered with the hare. They let it go hopping around the floor, leaving little pellets everywhere. The officers kicked the droppings into the corners but, finding that not very satisfactory, they grabbed a rag off the coffee table and whisked the droppings up against the wall.

A little yellow car drove into the forecourt. The superintendent came in. He noticed the hare on the floor, showed no surprise, offered his hand to Vatanen, and announced his name: “Savolainen.”

The duty officer explained the whole case to him. The superintendent was a youngish man, probably a recent graduate in jurisprudence, in the sticks as a stage in his career. He certainly looked professional enough as he listened to the evidence.

“The boys in Kuopio told you to lock him up?”

“That’s what they recommended, but we didn’t want to go ahead till we heard from you.”

“You did right. I know Laurila.”

The superintendent examined Vatanen’s papers and returned his money to him. “I’ll give the doctor a ring,” he said and picked up the telephone.

“District Superintendent Savolainen here. Good evening. You have, I understand, brought criminal charges against a certain person. Yes, I see. However, the situation is this: your report has no foundation. This is the conclusion we’ve arrived at in the course of our investigations. It’s important that you come here at once to clear the matter up. Tomorrow won’t do, not at all. This will be a very difficult situation for you unless somehow or other you can clear the matter up. If the person concerned presses charges, I don’t know what I, as a police officer, can do about it. In any case, the person has been held here on your responsibility and could press charges of false accusation against you. He’s been compelled to endure a considerable time here at the police station. When you arrive, you won’t find me here, but you can explain yourself to the duty officer, who will be responsible for interrogating you. Good-bye.”

The superintendent grinned. To Heikkinen he said: “Sound out Laurila. Question him about this and that. Force him to think up suitable answers. Ask whatever you like—you could even take his fingerprints. When you’ve finished, tell him he can go. Say that neither the public prosecutor nor I will pursue charges unless the person concerned considers it appropriate. Well, you know the form. Yes, and, Vatanen, where are you going for the night? I’m off back to the lake till morning. I put some nets out. Why not come along with me for the night? You can bring that hare of yours. It’s a little log cabin by the lake—just a fishing sauna. The hare can run wild there, and you can sleep in peace.”

The constables accompanied Vatanen, the superintendent, and the hare to the station forecourt.

The duty officer said to the superintendent: “Right from the start, sir, I saw this Mr. Vatanen was a respectable person.”

T
he superintendent’s little fishing cabin and sauna were a few yards from a lake in the forest. They were a pile of old logs on quaking bogland, reached by boardwalk.

“Inside, you’ll find my fishing buddy, quite a character, rather special. Retired now, used to be the Kiuruvesi superintendent of police. Name of Hannikainen.”

When they got to the cabin, Hannikainen was sitting with his back to the door: he was grilling fish on the heating stove in the corner, its iron doors open for the job. He pushed the gridiron to one side and shook hands, then offered the new arrivals hot fish on pieces of wax paper. By now Vatanen was truly hungry. They gave the hare some fresh grass and water.

The two others went out, and Vatanen collapsed onto a bunk. Half asleep, he felt the hare hopping onto the bunk, by his feet, shuffling into a comfortable position, and settling down for the night, too.

Sleepily, in the early hours, Vatanen heard the men returning from the lake and chatting outside in low tones before turning in. The superintendent went into the sauna to bunk down on the boards; Hannikainen stretched out on a bunk in the cabin. The hare raised its head but soon went back to sleep.