Below the Surface Read online

  Ursula swung one of her long legs over the other. Her high-heeled ankle boots were the latest fashion, but I wouldn’t have been able to walk in them. Ursula pulled them off like a supermodel, though.

  I smirked. “Well, then you can go ahead and ask Smeds to confirm your theory.”

  “Maria, you don’t think a man like Sasha Smeds is content with one woman, do you? Especially since Heli’s so bland.”

  “How should I know? Find out. Not literally, though. I mean ask around,” I said and laughed.

  “Are you trying to say you’ve never gotten involved with a suspect? From what I understand, you met Antti as part of a murder investigation.”

  I would have given anything to have kept myself from blushing. It’s true, Antti and I had crossed paths because of an investigation. But I’d known him long before the murder in the Eastern Finland Student Singers, and our relationship hadn’t started until after the case was solved. I wasn’t blushing because of Antti, though.

  “That case was solved before anything happened between Antti and me,” I said briskly, even though I knew I didn’t need to explain myself to Ursula. “Let’s hope this case is closed before the rally world championship. But if it isn’t, you can go interview Sasha Smeds again. It’s too bad we didn’t get anything significant out of Hackman’s old coworkers. Let’s focus on Kervinen now.”

  We hadn’t found the weapon in the lake, and the bullets fired from it would have deformed into a mess when they hit anything. No identifiable markings would be left on them. So far our informants’ inquiries with the local gun fences hadn’t yielded any results. I really wanted to know how many times the killer had fired the gun. Knowing how skilled our shooter was might help narrow down the pool of suspects.

  The meeting was drawing to a close. “Ursula, you take over the review of the cars, since Petri isn’t done yet. Now I have another meeting to go to.”

  The Police Federation hadn’t approved the contract the government had offered us in the fall, so no one had received a raise yet this year. Our department’s management team was currently participating in independent negotiations over performance pay, and that meant an endless series of meetings. The best thing about them was seeing Taskinen. Terttu had been sent home for the weekend for a break from testing, but it would still take nearly a week before the pathologist gave his opinion. Jyrki was quiet, but I could have talked less.

  During the meeting, I spoke up to say that I didn’t like the idea of deciding on my subordinates’ personal compensation. The assistant chief of police glared at me.

  “People in positions of authority have to be willing to take responsibility for these things,” he said. “Your job isn’t to please the people who work for you.”

  I looked at Taskinen and grimaced: the assistant chief of police couldn’t be accused of ingratiating himself to his subordinates, but the corporate big shots and city officials were another matter.

  “I think this is a group effort. No one solves crimes alone. Performance bonuses should go to a whole unit, not just to one person,” I continued. My loathing for meetings grew year by year.

  “We have to do something before we end up with a real staffing crisis in the metro area,” Taskinen said, trying to calm the waters a bit. “Hardly anyone can live on a police salary here. Performance bonuses are a good start.”

  “Those of us sitting around this table can’t fix the country’s housing crisis,” the assistant chief of police said angrily. I felt a gentle kick to my shin. It was Jyrki, who followed it up with a grin. I realized then that we were acting as much like teenagers as Ursula and Puupponen had been the previous morning, and I found myself blushing for the second time that day.

  Outside it was sleeting again, and the only splashes of color in the landscape were the red cars in the parking lot. Even the bark of the pine trees had lost its bright-brown color and seemed to melt into the asphalt. The Narcotics Unit commander’s blue tie looked downright garish among the dark suits.

  “Lunch?” I asked Taskinen when the meeting finally ended.

  “I’d love to, but not any farther away than downstairs. My next meeting starts in an hour.” Jyrki pushed the elevator’s call button, and we crammed in with two patrol officers and a junkie. The guy was suffering from such severe withdrawal symptoms that I had to feel sorry for him. I was glad I wasn’t in Narcotics, although our cases did often overlap. If alcohol and drugs had never been invented, I would have 90 percent fewer crimes to investigate. I wondered: Was Atro Jääskeläinen in the habit of driving drunk?

  We tried to find a quiet corner. Again I thought of Puustjärvi and Ursula, and for a second I wanted to tell Taskinen about their tryst, but all I related was that Puustjärvi’s twins had been born.

  “Life and death,” Taskinen said quietly. “Terttu has been talking about grandchildren for a few years and hoping that Silja wouldn’t wait too long.” Jyrki cut up his hamburger patty with a look of disgust. I thought it tasted fine, probably because meetings always made me hungry. My phone started playing Bon Jovi’s “Always,” which meant it was Koivu.

  “I got ahold of Kervinen. He sounded pretty incoherent. I think he’s on something. Should I send someone to go pick him up?” Koivu said.

  “Let’s go ourselves. Bring the car out, and I’ll hurry and finish my lunch.” I grinned apologetically to Taskinen, grabbed my meat with a napkin, and munched on it as I made my way to the parking lot. I knew I was cruel in thinking it, but an addled Kervinen might slip up and confess.

  The car windows were steamed up inside, so I wiped them clean. It was still light out, but the sun was low on the horizon and would set by four o’clock. The darkness would last for at least the next three months, which was a gloomy thought. My birthday was the first of March, and I always thought of spring starting then, even though there was still usually enough snow to ski. The year felt like a Ferris wheel that moved slowly from one phase to another: fall was an arduous climb toward a climax, which was somewhere around Christmas and New Year’s, January and February were a slow downward descent, and March and April were an easy drop. Sometime soon we’d have to pull out the elf hats and take a picture of the kids for our Christmas card.

  Koivu was quiet, probably suffering from lack of sleep again. He wasn’t one to complain, though. Kervinen lived in Tapiola high on a hill in what people called the hip flask buildings because of their oblong hexagonal shape and the smaller top floor common area. A two-bedroom apartment in them probably cost a couple hundred thousand euros.

  We pressed Kervinen’s buzzer three times before a voice asked, “Who’s there?”

  “Kallio and Koivu.”

  The door unlocked with a metallic snap. Inside we rode the elevator to the top residential floor, where we found Kervinen’s apartment door already open. Newspapers and junk mail lay scattered in the entryway, and the rooms smelled of unwashed clothing and beer. Kervinen leaned in a doorjamb wearing exactly the same clothes he’d had on at our previous meeting. His beard had grown wild, and his hair was matted or protruding at odd angles. His eyes were sunk deep between his cheeks and forehead. He looked as pale and unwell as some of the bodies he’d examined. I’d once lost my temper at Kervinen when he referred to a dead sixteen-year-old girl as a carcass—that’s where his nickname had come from. Now the whole department used it. It didn’t seem funny anymore, though.

  “Have you been to the doctor?” I asked and stepped past Kervinen into the living room. The television was on, and a home shopping network was hawking Christmas lights. I turned it off.

  “I am a doctor,” Kervinen said.

  “When did you last eat?” I asked. “Have you been able to sleep?”

  “Don’t bullshit me, Kallio. State your business and then get out.”

  I sat down on the couch, and Koivu sat next to me. Kervinen stood in front of the TV, swaying a little.

  “According to your phone records, you spoke with Annukka Hackman the day before her death,” Koivu said.


  “Yeah, so? For once she agreed to talk to me. Usually she just turned off her phone when she saw it was me.”

  “What did you talk about?”

  “She was my Annukka again. She wanted to meet and suggested Wednesday. Dinner at Tapiontori Restaurant. Just like before. She asked about DNA tests, about how you can tell who’s related to who. She said she’d tell me more on Wednesday, at Tapiontori. We were going to drink our favorite chardonnay. I thought she’d changed her mind and didn’t want to be with Jääskeläinen anymore. That night and the next morning were like spring instead of November. And then . . .”

  Had Annukka really changed her mind?

  “Tell me who took Annukka away just when she was going to come back to me!” Kervinen suddenly screamed.

  No one had called Kervinen’s phone on Tuesday night, but maybe Kervinen was the one who had called Annukka from the Kirkkonummi train station. Maybe he’d learned something before their meeting that had made spring turn back into November, and the disappointment had been too great.

  “I can’t ever go back to work again. I can’t ever open another body bag. Every time it’s just Annukka staring back at me,” Kervinen said and collapsed into a sitting position next to the TV. “Koivu, could you go buy some more beer? You can get it at the pizza shop down the street. My bank card is on the kitchen table.”

  Koivu stood up, and I followed him into the kitchen. There were two empty beer crates. The window had a magnificent view all the way to the sea, and on clear days you could probably see all the way to Estonia. I peeked in the refrigerator. The cheese and salami looked desiccated, and the milk was a week old. I didn’t want to inspect the vegetables too closely. In the cupboard I found a box of multigrain porridge mix.

  “I’ll make some hot cereal and try to get Kervinen to eat. What do you think he’s on? Look in the bedroom and bathroom for any pill bottles. We can’t leave him alone like this.”

  I’d known Kervinen for seven years, but I didn’t know anything about his family or even whether he was originally from the Helsinki area. If I could arrest him and get him into a holding cell, he’d at least be closely monitored, but I didn’t have probable cause. Trying to commit him against his will probably wouldn’t work either because he wasn’t threatening suicide.

  “Who’s your closest family member?” I yelled while I was mixing the cereal flakes with water. When no answer came, I went into the living room and repeated my question.

  “If Koivu could just bring me some beer,” he replied, holding his head.

  Kervinen’s cell phone was on the table, and it was the same model Antti had. I scanned the contacts and found that the first one was Annukka. There was no “Mom” or “Dad,” mostly just last names, including “Kallio.” One first name appeared in the list, “Esa.” I decided to try my luck.

  “This is Esa Kervinen’s voice mail,” the man’s voice said. “I’m not available at the moment, but . . .” I hung up and went back into the kitchen to continue stirring the porridge.

  “I found Dormicum and ibuprofen with vitamin C,” Koivu reported as he walked back in. “There’s also a bottle of sleeping pills, with about twenty remaining. He isn’t planning suicide or he would have taken all of them. The second bedroom was completely empty with just a couple of cardboard boxes. It looked pretty pathetic.”

  The porridge was bubbling in the pot, so I added a little salt and set a bowl and spoon on the table.

  “Come have some porridge, Kervinen. Butter or sugar?” To my surprise, Kervinen shuffled into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

  “Porridge,” he said like a child who was learning new words. As the first spoonful reached his lips, his phone started ringing. The display said “Esa.” Kervinen let the phone ring, so I decided to answer.

  “This is Hannu Kervinen’s phone, Maria Kallio speaking.”

  “Who are you, Hannu’s new girlfriend? Where’s Hannu? What’s happened?”

  “I’m a coworker from the Espoo Police. Nothing serious has happened to Hannu, but he’s extremely depressed.”

  “Oh, about Annukka?” Esa Kervinen’s voice was exactly like his brother’s. “That woman treated him really badly. He should be happy it’s finally over.”

  “Could you come over here? Your brother isn’t doing very well on his own.”

  “I’m teaching all day. School is done at three, so I’ll come then. Can I talk to him?”

  I handed Kervinen the phone and told him who it was. He answered his brother’s questions listlessly and said he was on sick leave. “You don’t have to come,” he finally said. That was when I took the phone from him. Esa Kervinen promised again to come once school was finished. Just in case I stored his number in my own phone. We waited until Kervinen had finished his bowl of cereal and drunk a couple of glasses of water. He didn’t ask Koivu to go buy beer again.

  “He’s in bad shape,” Koivu observed once we were sitting in the car, sheltering from the sleet outside. “Do you think he’d be able to fake innocence in that state?”

  “We’ll have to ask the police psychologist. I imagine it’s possible. Hackman asked about DNA tests. If Kervinen realized that this ‘new spring’ was just a scam, that Hackman just wanted information from him and not to start a new relationship . . .”

  “People are stupidest when they’re in love,” Koivu said and sighed. I laughed, because Koivu had always acted like a lovesick puppy whenever he was mooning over a girl.

  “True. Why did Hackman want information about DNA? She didn’t suspect Sasha wasn’t Rauha and Viktor Smeds’s son, did she? Or Andreas? They were married for nine years before Andreas came. Maybe the boys were adopted and no one ever told them . . .”

  I had thought that Sasha resembled their mother and Andreas their father. Regardless, the population registry would tell the truth, and Sasha would have seen his birth information when he applied for his license to marry Heli even if he never had any other interest in his genealogy. So that wasn’t much of a theory.

  A week had already passed since Annukka Hackman’s murder, and the trail was going cold. The footprint analysis from the crime scene hadn’t revealed anything, and Hackman’s purse only had her and Sini Jääskeläinen’s fingerprints on it. I hadn’t held a new press conference because there wasn’t anything new to announce. When the newspapers asked why Sasha Smeds had been allowed to leave the country, I replied that we didn’t have any reason to detain him.

  Antti called to say he was picking up the kids, so I went to the grocery store. I hadn’t made a shopping list before I left home that morning, and it was hard to remember what we needed. Milk and ground beef, potatoes and tissues. Once back at home I realized I’d forgotten margarine. Antti said he’d grab some from the convenience store. I decided to be a good mother and make mashed potatoes since the kids liked it. Cooking while they watched Tiny Two was peaceful.

  When the time came to leave our last home, we only had two months to find a new place. We chose the White Cube because it had good access to public transit and was near Iida’s music preschool. The convenience store on the ground floor of the neighboring building was also handy, and the kids’ day care was within walking distance, although we usually had to carry Taneli halfway. Iida’s future school was a half mile away too.

  “I put in a grant application to the Cultural Foundation today,” Antti said as he handed me the margarine. “I doubt I’ll get anything, but I had to try at least. And I’ve started thinking about Cambridge. That may be my only option.”

  “We can get by for a few months on my salary, and you’ll get some unemployment.”

  “Yeah, but I just don’t want to lie around like that. We need to get out of this miserable apartment. I feel like a man should be able to buy his family a decent house, or at least build one.”

  I’d been peeling the potatoes I’d boiled for the kids. At that, I suddenly stopped.

  “Never in a million years would I have expected to hear those words come out of your mou
th.”

  “Why not? Because our family is a paragon of gender equality, is that it? A woman only makes eighty cents for every euro a man makes in the same job, but luckily in our family it’s the other way around! And so you think you can just work whenever you feel like it. Sure, Antti will pick up the slack.”

  I threw the last peeled potato back in the pot and started mashing them.

  “I don’t like this apartment either,” I said. “Moving here was a mistake, but we can fix it.”

  “Not on unemployment.”

  “I appreciate that I was able to be home with Taneli for two years. Now it’s nice to be back at work. I would think you’d understand, since work is important to you too.”

  “But it isn’t more important to me than the well-being and happiness of my family!”

  Antti started to set the table, and I got out the electric mixer to drown out any angry words I might be tempted to say. Taneli came to see what I was doing. He loved machines and was always happy to help vacuum or fill the washing machine. We were quiet at the dinner table, and after the meal Antti said he was going to the library. Iida asked to go too, but Antti said he was walking.

  I filled the dishwasher, then sat down to try to read the Hackman manuscript I’d brought home from work, a copy our unit secretary had printed for me. But Taneli climbed into my lap to complain that Iida wouldn’t play with him. So I went in the kids’ room with him and we started a car race. Iida then decided that she did want to play with her brother after all, so I was able to slip back into the living room to continue reading.

  Auto racing in the Smeds family got its start with Andreas, and he also had greater success initially than his younger brother. The competition between the brothers spurred Sasha to approach his training with more purpose, although both brothers claim their relationship has always been excellent. However, some sources remember tensions in the pit, which at times came to blows. Both Sasha and Andreas deny this.