‘But you’re not even sure about it. You can’t just keep an eye on other people. And what’s this Reino Leinonen got to do with the case anyway?’
‘Bloody hell, nothing. I never said he was involved. In any case we’re not officially tailing him. That bloke’s got at least four deposit-box jobs to his name, but he’s only done time for one of them. Straight up, I go round there every so often just to remind him what mortality really is. God it feels good thinking about him fretting afterwards, but more importantly he won’t have the guts to get up to his old tricks for a while. It’s called preventive action. Look it up in the dictionary.’
‘So what about Nikander?’
‘Did you get any prints from the Dagmarinkatu flat?’
‘No, not complete ones, only a couple of smudged partials. Thurman said he thinks our man’s work must involve something that causes a mechanical strain on his fingers; it’s as though his fingers are coated in some kind of gunk that’s blocking up the ridges.’
‘Right, now there’s another thing that brings us back to Nikander. You take a look at his prints in the database. They’re so faint we had trouble classifying them. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried it, but Nikander’s the only one who almost succeeded. Nobody knows how he does it. I’ve heard people say he either sands them down or rubs his hands with something that removes any grease and stops him sweating.’
‘What else fits the description?’
‘Everything, for crying out loud. Compare that sketch to his mugshot.’
Lampinen took a photograph from his jacket pocket and placed it on the table in front of Harjunpää. There was already quite a collection of photographs on the table, each showing a gaunt or otherwise bird-like man from numerous different angles. Next to them was the facial composite drawn up by Forensics on the basis of Juha Backman’s description. Harjunpää squinted at them and compared them. Lampinen was partly right: there was something about Nikander’s chin and nose that matched the composite.
‘What can I say… But the witness didn’t pick out Nikander from any of the photographs. What’s more, Nikander is chubby, and everybody who’s seen this guy – including Juha Backman – has described him as thin. On top of that they’ve said his hair was thick and messy, but Nikander’s bald.’
‘Right, but bear in mind what kind of state the witnesses were in when they saw him. You remember the Moisio case? Every description said he was stout and podgy but that’s because he was always wearing that damn bomber jacket and all the time he was skinny as a rake.’
‘This bloke’s been seen naked.’
‘Nikander boasts that he can do as he pleases with women,’ Juslin joined in. ‘That he can have as many as he wants.’
‘Well, that could mean anything.’
‘He treats Hotel Inter as his headquarters,’ said Lampinen. ‘And you said yourself that over half of these women had been there on the night in question.’
‘Nikander’s got a soft spot for blondes, and of all these women we’ve only got five dark-haired ones and one redhead.’
‘And nobody picks a lock better than him. In ten minutes he can open a lock that it would take our boys half an hour to crack. And that’s exactly the area he hangs around.’
‘And he’s a total pervert, believe you me,’ Juslin sneered and agitatedly rested his leg on his knee. ‘Last year we were searching his house and we found at least a billion porn mags and a rubber twat. Fucking sick… hair and everything… And when we switched it on, it vibrated so much I almost dropped the thing. Yours isn’t like that, is it, Onerva?’
Onerva looked out of the window. Harjunpää leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands behind his neck. He didn’t like the situation or the tone of the conversation, but he had a strange feeling that he, too, was spoiling for a fight. Perhaps it was because Lampinen and Juslin had abruptly dismissed the plan they’d devised for that evening.
‘It seems to me as though you don’t want this guy caught,’ said Lampinen. ‘Too much of a dent to your pride if we solve this case?’
‘Now listen… your pride… I do this because I’ve got five mouths to feed. Six.’
‘Or does it bug you that this came through Järvi? That this is an important case for him?’
‘And just why is this so important to him?’ asked Onerva. Harjunpää recognised her tone of voice and prayed that someone would change the subject soon.
‘Well…’
‘Because DCI Järvi’s had a little phone call from the Right Honourable Kuusimäki, that’s why,’ Onerva answered for herself. ‘And he wants to be able to call him back, stand to attention and say “Minister, after much hard work, the officers in my team have succeeded in blah blah blah…” It makes me sick. Is he so desperate to have a Member of Parliament come to his retirement do? Don’t you get it? One of this intruder’s victims has died. And the one we had in here this morning was on the verge of a breakdown. Yes, I want him caught. I want him caught for all those women – but not for Järvi. And I want to catch the real intruder, not Klaus Nikander just because you’ve got a grudge against him.’
‘For Christ’s sake, Nykänen… What grudge? And that attitude of yours… You feminists ought to learn that no amount of burning your bras has ever solved these cases in the past and it won’t solve this one…’
Onerva threw her head backwards in an exaggerated laugh then walked right up to Lampinen.
‘Do you know? A funny thing happened to me this morning. No, I bet you don’t… Tanttu asked me to report to him this morning and he told me I needed to apply for a secondary occupation licence to sell my jumpers. Oh, and he said I probably wouldn’t be granted one, because I couldn’t possibly be considered impartial enough to investigate potential cases involving the retailers in question or the people who purchase my stuff. Funny, eh? We only talked about it yesterday.’
‘Oh piss off, Nykänen! There’s no point blaming me, you’re the one that’s screwed up… Come on, Juslin. And stay away from Hotel Inter, got it?’
The two men stood up, their chairs rattling, but Harjunpää raised his hand.
‘Lampinen. We are going to Inter.’
‘No, you’re not! You’ll ruin everything. Tell them, Juslin.’
‘We’re going to set him up. Heiskanen’s got a flat on Humalistonkatu and that’s our base. Forensics is rigging the place up with infrared cameras as we speak. Susanna from Fraud is going to be our bait. She’s got long blonde hair. She’s going to stumble back from Inter pretending to be drunk and making sure Nikander sees her. And guess what’ll happen later on when he starts groping her? Guess who’s going to jump out of the wardrobe and catch him red-handed?’
‘Why the hell didn’t you tell us?’
‘We agreed to maintain two parallel lines of approach. If you go down there asking around with your photographs and composites he’ll smell you a mile away.’
‘OK,’ said Harjunpää slowly, rather hurt. He felt as though he’d been tricked, and on top of that the whole set-up was perverse: they’d never have ended up in this kind of stalemate with other officers from Violent Crimes.
‘Let’s maintain two lines, but we’re going to maintain ours too. We’ll leave Inter for tonight and concentrate on Lehtovaara. And if you don’t get him tonight, then we’ll go to Inter tomorrow night.’
‘No, you won’t. We’re going to see this through however long it takes.’
‘And who was it was worried that someone else might catch him?’
Lampinen marched into the corridor without another word but Juslin lingered in the office. He stopped behind Onerva, placed his hand on her buttocks and whispered: ‘My God, you’re sexy when you get angry.’
‘Hands off, eunuch!’ she snapped and Juslin removed his hand and disappeared after Lampinen.
‘Oh God,’ she almost moaned. ‘I just can’t stop thinking about Pirjo. If only I’d tried talking to her a bit more… And now this whole thing with the secondary occupation licence – as if you can’t get through life without a licence.’
‘I know…’
‘And Juslin… Why can’t I keep my big mouth shut?’
‘I’m sure it did him the world of good.’
‘No, he used to work in a joiner’s yard. A cog must have come loose; I bet he’s still got a piece of something stuck in his head…’