KIMMO JOENTAA WOKE up shivering and with a sense of knowing what he wanted to do next. He went down to the breakfast room. Sundström was sitting, lost in thought, in front of a cup of coffee and a bowl of cornflakes.
‘Good morning,’ said Joentaa, sitting down beside him.
‘Morning,’ said Sundström.
‘I’d like us to approach this investigation from a new angle,’ said Joentaa.
Sundström looked up.
‘I don’t think there’s any rational motive. I think it’s a motive by association,’ said Joentaa. ‘Something to do with that TV programme.’
‘Go on,’ said Sundström.
‘I think the murderer was … was traumatised by the programme, felt it was some kind of attack on his peace of mind. That would explain the fury that seems to be behind the whole thing.’
He looked for signs of mockery or scepticism in Sundström’s eyes, but found none.
‘I still don’t know how it all hangs together, but it must have something to do with those puppets and the way they were discussed on the show.’
‘Puppets, Kimmo, only puppets.’
‘Yes, but not for one viewer. Let’s suppose that one viewer saw something else. Perhaps someone close to him, and he had lost that person and was mourning.’
For a long time Sundström said nothing. After a while he began to eat his cornflakes. Then he put his spoon down and said, ‘Funny idea.’
‘I know,’ said Joentaa. ‘But I think it’s right.’
‘You think.’
‘I watched the DVD again last night. And after that I phoned Vaasara. Mäkelä’s assistant.’
‘And?’
‘He thought it was an outlandish idea.’
‘Ah.’
‘All the same …’
‘Kimmo, I watched the programme myself, I know those puppets were only dummies. Corpses in a film. Props. Made of plastic.’
‘You don’t understand what I’m getting at.’
‘Not entirely.’
‘I’d like to look at the data banks of photos that Mäkelä built up,’ said Joentaa.
‘Why?’
‘Vaasara said he had collected a lot of photos for research.’
‘Yes, yes, but why do you want to look at them?’
‘I don’t know.’
Sundström looked down at his cornflakes again. ‘That’s a typical Kimmo Joentaa reason – “I don’t know”.’
‘You yourself say that the interview plays a key part. And the puppets are at the centre of the interview.’
‘Yes, I’m with you so far, but I don’t understand your theory.’
‘Do you have a better one?’
‘At the moment I don’t have any theory at all.’
‘Then in that case …’
‘Which of course will send me off to talk to the press in tearing good spirits. I’ll probably have to spend the whole morning preparing for that ridiculous conference.’
Kimmo got to his feet. ‘See you later. I’m off.’
Joentaa walked quickly through the breakfast room to the entrance hall. When he turned round once more, he saw Sundström shaking his head as he contemplated his cornflakes.
He walked on through the hall, thinking about Sundström, who had seemed curiously passive since the attack on Hämäläinen, and for the first time since Joentaa had been working with him appeared to find that a situation was getting him down. Presumably his unique brand of humour had gone AWOL, and he had to rediscover it before he could operate with his usual efficiency.
On reaching the way out of the hotel Joentaa stopped, and on impulse took his mobile out of his coat pocket. He called his own number, and after a few seconds heard a strange voice, but it didn’t sound like the standard announcement on the answering machine, and indeed it did not consist of the usual wording.
‘Er … hello?’
‘Yes, what is it?’
‘Who … who’s that speaking?
‘I think I’m the one who should be asking you.’
‘Larissa?’
‘No.’
‘My name is Joentaa, and the telephone you’re holding at this minute belongs to me.’
‘Oh, it’s you.’
‘That’s right. And I’d like to speak to Larissa.’
‘She’s not here.’
‘Ah. And who are you?’
‘Jennifer. A colleague of hers.’
‘Is … is Larissa …’
‘She’s in the bathroom. I came to pick her up because she has such a long walk to the bus stop.’
‘She was late yesterday. That’s rather frowned upon.’
‘Ah … well, it’s good that you’re picking her up.’
‘Would you like her to call you back?’
‘That would be nice.’
‘Goodbye, then.’
‘Er … just a moment …’
But Jennifer or whoever it was had cut the connection, and Kimmo Joentaa stood there for a while with his mobile in his hand. Then he put it away in his coat pocket and went out into the winter sunlight.