37.5. DAILY AVERAGE: 37.4.
Erne Mikson is sitting at the long table, sipping the weak coffee Rasmus brewed. He’s studying photographs and his cracked knuckles, which have been whittled sharp and angular by the years.
“Jessica and Yusuf are on their way,” Mikael says, sitting down. Also present are Nina and Rasmus, who has gotten a jolt of fresh energy from his discoveries. He looks more enthusiastic and animated than he has in ages.
“What’s wrong?” Erne says without lifting his eyes from his hands. Over the years, he has become a master at sensing changes in mood. Minor things, gestures, words. Just now his team is radiating negative energy. “Well? Spit it out, Micke.”
“I think we should bring in those two guys for questioning right away.” Mikael pops his gum between his teeth, arms folded across his chest.
“I see,” Erne says, not the least bit surprised.
“They clearly followed Roger Koponen and Sanna Porkka from Savonlinna and sent two people up in flames. We could bring them in on probable cause—”
“Roger Koponen is alive.”
“So?”
“If Karlstedt and Lehtinen really followed the car Porkka was driving from Savonlinna and stopped it in Juva and killed two people, one of whom we haven’t been able to ID yet in light of new information we’ve discovered, we can assume Roger Koponen continued his journey to Helsinki with the two of them afterward.”
“Of course.”
“That makes Koponen a suspect. And if we want to find Koponen, we ought to keep eyes on Karlstedt and Koskinen for a while.”
“And ears,” Rasmus says, raising a tentative finger into the air.
“It’s been handled. I just got a warrant from the courts. Rasse, you take the baton on that. I want you to listen to every single phone call and report anything even remotely related to the case or that otherwise strikes you as off. And of course it’s vital you use base station data to figure out if the men’s mobile phones traveled from Savonlinna to Helsinki, and if they stopped for a while in the vicinity of the killings.”
“Got it,” Rasmus says, smiling in satisfaction. Erne knows from experience that Rasmus loves a challenge. His head has really been in the game today.
“And meanwhile, Micke, it’s critical that neither man disappears from our field of vision. There can be no gaps in the monitoring. No stupid mistakes,” Erne says.
Nina has raised her hand, and now Erne nods, giving her the floor. “I don’t disagree with you, Erne. I think it’s a smart approach . . . ,” she begins, drawing an invisible square on the tabletop.
“But?”
“But I think what Jessica has called to our attention several times today needs to be taken into consideration. I’m talking about the fact that we’re hopelessly a step behind these people. And that we have been from the beginning.”
“Continue,” Erne says, looking darkly at Nina.
“It feels like everything we’ve found out . . . are things they’ve wanted us to find out.”
“I see your perspective. But on the other hand, my dear colleagues,” Erne says, now in a sharper tone, “there’s the danger here that we are overestimating the intelligence of this cabal and their ability to mislead us. Let’s take a step backward: why does it feel like we’ve been given crumbs of information?”
“Because the ‘mistakes’”—and as she says the word, Nina holds a brief pause and draws air quotes around it, a habit that has always irritated Erne immensely—“these suspects made are so fucking stupid. Why make it seem like Roger Koponen is dead, if the next morning he’s uploading a video of his murdered wife in a location where there are a hundred and twenty security cameras? You don’t have to be the best-informed layperson to know phones and other smart devices can be easily tracked. These jerkoffs wanted us to see them.”
“Which is why we need to bring them in right away,” Mikael interjects emphatically.
“I’m positive they also knew about the camera at Savonlinna Hall. Even so, Lehtinen asked a question from the audience. A question that didn’t go unnoticed by anyone present. And then stepped out in front of the camera and into a brand-new Porsche whose license plate they didn’t make the slightest effort to cover. Totally fucking stupid mistakes. Without that provocative question, we wouldn’t even have the names of these occultists.”
“Fine,” Erne says, and stands. “You guys feel like we’re dumbasses and they’re leading us along by a leash wrapped around our necks.”
“Our balls,” Mikael says.
The others nod.
“It’s all a fucking show. This is exactly what we’re trying to say, Erne. We need to stop dancing to the tune of these sadistic murderers and make our own move.” Mikael spits his gum out into a wad of paper toweling.
Erne surveys the investigators sitting round the table. He has no problem with dissenting opinions; he has always encouraged his team to think critically. It might be the very reason the unit’s success rate has always been higher than average. He buttons the top button of his sport coat and pulls the sleeves over his frayed shirt cuffs. “Thank you for your thoughts. I still want to hear Jessica’s views on the matter. Until then, your job is to make sure we don’t miss the tiniest move or phone call those two make.”
Then Erne stalks out of the conference room.