Below the Surface Read online

  Sasha Smeds was a handsome man, a typical Finnish blond of average height. High cheek bones and a slightly hooked nose gave his features personality. I hoped the Road Safety Council campaign would be a success. With our Traffic Division we’d just wrapped up an accident case in which a boy who had recently received his license ran a car his classmate was driving off the road on the West Highway. The result had been three dead. I had a running joke that the most dangerous part of my job was my commute to work in Espoo traffic.

  If Taneli intended to rebel against his father when he was a teenager, fixating on rally drivers and starting to drive himself would be one of the best possible ways. Then Iida would become a chick who only cared about her looks and attention from boys, and whose mission in life was to find a rich man to support her, I thought darkly. I felt like the worst mother in the world whenever my thoughts began to stray from the children nestling into my lap to Annukka Hackman’s murder.

  The home phone rang just after eight as I was finishing brushing the children’s teeth. Taneli whined sleepily, and I asked him to crawl into Mommy and Daddy’s bed. Iida looked sulky since she had to sleep alone in her room.

  “Hi, it’s Jyrki.”

  “Hi,” I replied, confused, since my boss always called my work phone.

  “I was just wondering . . . Could you go out for a beer?”

  This surprised me even more, since Jyrki Taskinen wasn’t one for sitting in bars.

  “I’d be happy to, but I can’t. Antti won’t be back from Edinburgh until tomorrow.”

  “Oh, yeah, I remember you mentioning that. What about . . . what if I came over to your place for a minute? I’ll grab a couple of beers at a convenience store on the way. Who knows, they may have something dark.”

  “Sure. The kids will be asleep in a few minutes. I’ve spent every night alone for almost two weeks.”

  Taneli was already snoring gently in our bed on Antti’s side with his stuffed cat Elvis under his arm. I read Iida a story and gave her a good-night hug. I tried to think how I could have screwed up the Annukka Hackman murder investigation already. Why did Jyrki want to see me tonight of all nights? Our families were friends, and I knew his wife, Terttu, and his daughter, Silja, pretty well, although Silja was a professional figure skater in Canada these days. At work Jyrki and I tried to have lunch together once a week, but trying was often all we succeeded at. There had been a cool period in our relationship before Taneli’s birth since Jyrki had tried to get me to drop the Petri Ilveskivi investigation under pressure from his higher-ups. After that we had more than one strained conversation about solidarity and trust, and nowadays our friendship was stronger than ever.

  Iida fell asleep quickly too. I remembered that I still had a few drops in a bottle of Laphroaig—I’d asked Antti to bring more from Scotland. I poured myself one finger and glanced out the window. A taxi drove up and Jyrki climbed out with a plastic bag. I was starting to get nervous. The downstairs bell rang, and I buzzed him in. Then I heard Jyrki’s steps on the stairs. Antti didn’t use the elevator for environmental reasons, but Jyrki avoided it for the exercise.

  “Are the little monsters down?” Jyrki asked when he arrived.

  “Yep. There’s a cold one in the fridge. Do you want it while the ones you brought cool down?”

  Jyrki handed me the beer, and I found pretzels in the bag as well. Jyrki didn’t usually eat junk food.

  He sat down at the kitchen table. I didn’t bother saying that the living room would have been more comfortable. I lit a candle and poured him some beer. We chatted about work just long enough for me to realize he hadn’t come about Annukka Hackman’s murder. He clearly needed to work up to whatever was on his mind.

  “Terttu said she didn’t want us talking about this yet, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore. Terttu is at Meilahti Hospital right now for tests. At first we thought it was normal menopause complications, bleeding and stuff . . . I guess you know since you’re a woman. But they found cancer in her uterus. We’re finding out now how bad it is.”

  Jyrki rotated his wide wedding band. His blue shirt was pressed, and his hair was combed neatly as always.

  “Terttu’s really scared. I wanted to stay with her at the hospital, but she wouldn’t let me. They’re taking the biopsy tomorrow, and it’ll be a couple of weeks before they can analyze it.”

  “Oh, Jyrki. I’m so glad you didn’t stay home alone.” I placed my hand on his shoulder, and he grabbed it and squeezed. Years ago one of my coworkers accused me of sleeping my way up the career ladder, even though Jyrki and I had never shared anything more than a friendly kiss on the cheek.

  “Terttu’s afraid of dying, but she keeps pushing me away and won’t talk. She won’t even let me touch her.” Jyrki had emptied his beer glass, so I got him a refill and asked if he wanted a sandwich. He didn’t and just munched pretzels as if he didn’t realize what he was eating.

  “This spring it’ll be twenty-seven years since we got married. But suddenly my wife is treating me like a total stranger. As if her health is none of my business. She can handle it alone, although obviously she can’t. Maria, don’t let Terttu know you know. I’m not even supposed to tell her siblings yet.”

  “Have you told Silja?”

  “No. Terttu said she doesn’t want to tell Silja until we’re sure the situation is really serious.”

  Jyrki wasn’t much different from a lot of Finnish men: he didn’t have a best male friend to talk to when things got difficult. He and I had made a career of picking up the pieces for these same sorts of men: a wife would leave, taking the children, and the man didn’t have anyone to talk to so he turned to a knife, a gun, or lighter fluid. Although to be honest, I doubted that talking would have always helped—there were feelings you just had to live through despite the pain.

  Hannu Kervinen had expressed his disappointment to Annukka Hackman, and his calls and letters hadn’t helped anyone. I tried to comfort Jyrki, even though I knew words wouldn’t make the fear go away.

  “All of a sudden there’s this feeling that we can’t plan for anything. For a long time we’ve intended to go to Canada to see Silja, but my work has always gotten in the way. You always think you’ve got forever.”

  “What if you booked the trip now and went for Christmas?”

  “We have to see what the doctors say first. Terttu might need to start treatment immediately.” Jyrki sighed and stared at his ring. “But let’s talk about something more cheerful. How’s Koivu adjusting to being a father?”

  I related all the news from my unit and about my own kids, and a couple of times I even got Jyrki to laugh. After his third beer he called a taxi.

  “Thanks, Maria,” he said after pulling on his coat, then he hugged me long and hard. Just before he let go I felt a kiss on my hair. It felt like an electric shock.

  When I went to my room, I found Iida there too and didn’t bother carrying her back to her own bed.

  Both children were sound asleep, and Taneli’s head wound hadn’t bled anymore. Still I couldn’t go to bed yet, so I sat up emptying the bottle of Laphroaig and praying for Terttu Taskinen, even though I didn’t have a clue to what or to whom I was praying.

  5

  When I turned my phone on after I woke up the next morning, seven call notifications were waiting for me, all from the same number. I had turned the phone off when the kids were going to sleep, and what Jyrki had told me shocked me so badly that I forgot to check my calls after he left. To my disappointment none of them was from Antti. The male voice that I heard speaking in the voice mails was completely new to me. Actually, it was more shouting than speaking, and in each successive message he seemed more agitated.

  Hi, this is Jouko Suuronen. I’m the manager of Finnsport Representation. I need you to call me as soon as possible about your subordinates’ rudeness to my client, Sasha Smeds.

  That was the first message. In the final message, which came after midnight, Suuronen started resorting to threats.


  If you don’t contact me immediately, we’re going to have our lawyers start looking into your activities.

  What the hell had my guys been doing? Or, more precisely: What had Ursula done?

  I can’t function in the morning before a couple of cups of coffee and some carbs. After fueling up, I got the kids dressed and took them to day care. Taneli claimed his head didn’t hurt anymore. I made the day care ladies promise to call me immediately if he started acting strangely, even though I knew I was being overprotective. I called Suuronen from the car in the day care parking lot.

  “Hello,” said a bleary voice. Cell phones had made people stop introducing themselves on the phone. They were such personal objects that the identity of the respondent was considered obvious.

  “This is Detective Maria Kallio, Espoo Police. I’m trying to reach Jouko Suuronen.”

  “Kallio. Well, it’s about damn time!” Suuronen seemed to wake up instantly. “What the hell are your people doing harassing Sasha Smeds? What game are you playing at saying he has to come in to the Espoo police station at nine o’clock today or he can’t leave the country? Sasha’s headed to France tomorrow to prep for the Rally GB. The world championship is at stake. Do you understand that? Do I have to fucking spell it out for you?”

  “Everyone has an obligation to assist in murder investigations.” I found that my arms and legs were shaking. I was angry at Ursula, who obviously hadn’t done what I’d asked and gone out to the farm to interview Sasha in person, but I was even more furious at this cursing bully. “I’m glad Mr. Smeds will be coming to the police station bright and early. That way we can get his interview over quickly. I think that will be in everyone’s best interest.”

  “Sasha isn’t coming to the police station, at least not without a lawyer!”

  “Do you make all his decisions for him? How well did you know Annukka Hackman?”

  “You listen here . . . Oh shit—” Suuronen hung up the phone. I burst out laughing although I just as easily could have cried.

  Suuronen and Smeds could make the media dance to whatever tune they wanted, and of course I’d be the one who’d end up having to take responsibility for the mess. But I had applied for this unit commander position myself, so I couldn’t complain, although sometimes I thought that life would be easier if I could go back to being a sergeant in the field instead of sitting behind a desk.

  There was good news too during the morning meeting: Annukka Hackman’s autopsy had demonstrated that the shot easily could have been fired from her own gun. The time of death was estimated to be Tuesday the fifth of November between three o’clock and eight o’clock. There still wasn’t any sign of the gun, and dragging the lake hadn’t turned up anything. Eyewitness sightings of Annukka Hackman’s car and other people near the lake on the night of the murder were plentiful, and the forensic investigation was making progress. But we were burning through money. Because three days had already passed and we were still in the dark about so much, we had to use all available resources.

  “Jalonen, the graphic designer, had some interesting things to say about Jääskeläinen and Hackman’s relationship,” Koivu said. “I asked if they seemed like they were in love, and according to Jalonen, Jääskeläinen was definitely in love, but Hackman seemed more interested in her book project and her newspaper articles than in her new husband. Once he overheard them having an argument about how Annukka worked too much and never had time to go out.” Koivu glanced at me and grinned. How many times had I vented my frustration about Antti’s complaints that I didn’t have enough time for the family?

  “But what was even more interesting is that I received a text message from Sini Jääskeläinen last night. She claims she knows her dad was home around six on Tuesday evening because she called him on the family’s landline,” Koivu said.

  “Ah. And why did Sini feel the need to tell you that?”

  “Good question, boss. According to the phone records, there was no call from Sini’s cell phone or any other phone to the Jääskeläinen landline anytime that night.”

  “So Sini suspects her father. Since you seem to have a good rapport with her, Koivu, you keep working that angle. Ursula, what’s going on with the Smeds family?”

  “I finally got in touch with them. Smeds’s wife claimed they hadn’t even heard about Annukka Hackman’s death. Which is hard to believe since it’s been all over the news! Then she wanted to know what Hackman’s murder had to do with them. So I said it would be best for Sasha to come down here this morning at nine o’clock if he didn’t want to get arrested.”

  Based on her appearance, Ursula was really throwing herself into this meeting with Sasha Smeds. Her makeup was fit for a nightclub, and her short skirt showed off her perfect thighs and calves, which were accentuated by her high-heeled pumps. Black lace flashed under her fitted blazer. Puustjärvi couldn’t keep his eyes off her neckline.

  “Did Smeds say he’d come?”

  Ursula blushed a little. “I didn’t speak with him, only with his wife. Sasha was resting, but his wife said she’d pass the message along. Do you want me and Autio to question him?”

  “I doubt he’s going to show up just like that. His manager contacted me and claimed that Smeds didn’t have anything to do with Hackman. What time was it exactly when you spoke with Heli Smeds?”

  “Heli Haapala. She kept her maiden name. I called there again right after we spoke and got her on the line.”

  “Great. Let’s keep an eye on the situation, and call me if he does show up at nine. It might be a good idea to hear from other members of the family too. Ursula, you’ll be getting Annukka Hackman’s computer today. Will you check what’s on it? Jääskeläinen claimed he didn’t know the passwords. Try to figure that out and call in the experts if you need to. OK, everyone back to work.”

  As everyone else filed out, Koivu handed me the daily papers. “Have you seen these?” he asked. Annukka Hackman’s murder was on the front pages of both tabloids. “Star Reporter’s Tell-All Biography Murder Motive?” asked one. The other was even more brazen: “Sasha Smeds Connected to Murder?” Atro Jääskeläinen had decided to market Annukka’s book regardless of her death. One of the papers even had a picture of me taken years before during some press conference.

  “Was there anything else interesting in the phone records?” I asked Koivu.

  “I’m still going through them, but first I’m going to talk to Sini Jääskeläinen. She must not have known how easy it is for us to see what calls someone’s made. She seems worried about her father, and that’s interesting.”

  I was back in my office by 8:45. During the meeting a dozen new calls had come in. There were also just as many e-mails, all about the same thing: What was the status of the Annukka Hackman murder investigation? I sighed, then looked at who had both called and e-mailed and started typing replies.

  Because the investigation is ongoing, the police department can provide no further information at this time.

  I didn’t want to make the media’s job any more difficult on purpose, but discretion was best now. The phone rang again. This time, the call was coming from an unknown number.

  “Espoo Police Violent Crime Unit, Lieutenant Kallio speaking.”

  “Hi, it’s Sasha Smeds. Am I speaking with the head of the Violent Crime Unit?”

  “Yes. We’re looking forward to seeing you today.”

  Smeds sighed. “I know. Did my manager, Jouko Suuronen, speak with you this morning?”

  “Yes, I did have the pleasure of speaking with him.”

  Smeds laughed. “Jouko isn’t at his best early in the morning. I’m sorry if he behaved inappropriately. And my wife wasn’t able to explain to your officer that my whole day is booked with interviews. A film crew from Sweden is going to be here soon, and in the afternoon there’s a Belgian car magazine coming. And then tomorrow I’m headed back to France and then England. Annukka’s death is a terrible tragedy, and I’m happy to help the police, but I really can’t make it over
to Espoo today.”

  “How well did you know Annukka Hackman?”

  “She was practically a family friend until . . . Look, I could probably make an hour between twelve and one. Couldn’t you come out here? I’m sure you can understand that I want to concentrate on getting ready for this next race. The world championship is riding on it.”

  I knew this was a game. Smeds wanted to smooth over Suuronen’s and Ursula’s slipups, as well as keep the media off his back. He only wanted to talk to the people in charge. My curiosity began to win out. I might never have another chance to meet one of the best rally drivers in the world.

  “Twelve o’clock sounds fine. We know where you live. I’ll bring a couple of other officers with me. See you then.”

  I was annoyed enough with Ursula that I didn’t notify her immediately and instead clicked through my e-mail, then looked up the report on Andreas Smeds’s drunk-driving case. In September 1996 Andreas was caught driving seventy miles an hour in a fifty zone with a blood-alcohol content of .19. He got off with a fine. The next year he had two more drunk-driving arrests, but now the incidents were worse. I didn’t find any other criminal records for Andreas Smeds or anyone else in the family. On a lark I also looked up Jouko Suuronen’s name. He had some speeding tickets and one assault conviction from two years ago, a fight in the line to get into the “it” nightclub at the time. Fines and compensation to the tune of thirteen thousand marks.

  I called Ursula, even though it was stupid because her office was only ten yards away.

  “Smeds didn’t come,” she said irritably.

  “I know. He called me.”

  “You?”

  “We’re meeting at his house in Degerö at noon. You’re coming. It’ll take a little under an hour to get there, so let’s meet at my car in the garage at ten past eleven.”

  “What’s going on here?” Ursula sounded like I’d tried to take away her boyfriend.

  “Let’s talk about it in the car. Do you have Hackman’s computer yet?”

  “Yes. I haven’t had time to look at it because I was waiting for Sasha.”