KIMMO JOENTAA TOOK the train back to Turku. He asked his friendly Helsinki colleague to tell Westerberg and Sundström that he had left.
Sundström would be annoyed, but he had no time to bother with matters of minor importance just now. White buildings, lakes and forests flew past outside the carriage windows. A boy sat beside him bent over a laptop, playing a computer game the point of which Joentaa could not work out. A man in a yellow bird mask reduced the cars he drove to scrap metal and flung himself off high-rise buildings. The man on the screen was smashed to pieces, and the boy looked as if he were about to fall asleep.
‘Thrilling stuff,’ murmured Joentaa.
The boy cast him a suspicious glance, then concentrated on killing off the yellow man yet again.
Joentaa walked from the station to the police building, thinking about the idea that had occurred to him while he was looking at Harri Mäkelä’s neatly stored photographs. An idea that would, presumably, be difficult to put into practice. Difficult or impossible.
Petri Grönholm was out when he arrived, and Tuomas Heinonen was sitting at his desk.
‘Kimmo,’ he said. ‘Back already?’
‘Only me. Paavo’s still in Helsinki.’
‘Ah.’
‘I have an idea I’d like to try out …’
‘What is it?’ asked Heinonen.
Joentaa looked at Tuomas Heinonen, and wondered why he shouldn’t put what he had been thinking into words, and while he was thinking of that he noticed the changed expression on Heinonen’s face. His eyes still looked veiled, he still looked hunted. But something had changed.
‘I won,’ said Heinonen.
‘What?’
‘Won it all back. Almost all. There’s an international ice hockey tournament on in Germany. The Slovakia versus Canada game.’
‘Yes …’
‘Slovakia won. The idiots who run the betting system didn’t realise that Canada was bringing a B team. Funny mistake, not like them to make it.’
Joentaa nodded.
‘A three-way combination, two favourites, and Slovakia as an outsider at high odds.’
Joentaa nodded again. He did not understand the way it worked.
‘I could tell Paulina everything and put all the money on the table in front of her.’
‘I wouldn’t do that if I were you.’
‘I have plenty of cash with me … look.’ Heinonen reached for his coat, which was hanging over his chair, and took out some 500-euro notes. ‘As much as you could wish for, I’m the king,’ he said. ‘Sorry I’ve been such a pain the last few days, and thank you for …’
‘You must stop,’ said Joentaa.
Heinonen stared at him.
‘You must stop now, at once.’
‘I expect you’re right,’ said Heinonen.
‘If you love Paulina and your children you will stop now,’ said Joentaa, hearing the emotion in his voice.
‘You’re right,’ said Heinonen. His own voice sounded toneless and studied.
They faced each other in silence.
‘What about this idea you have?’ asked Heinonen at last. Joentaa looked at Heinonen, saw his heated face and the disaster heading his way. He’d have to talk to Paulina.
‘Kimmo?’
‘Yes?’
‘You have an idea.’
‘Yes … I’m not sure yet. If possible I’d like to check the families of all the people who’ve died in air crashes or train accidents in the last few years, or of anyone who died in a fire on a fairground ghost train.’
Heinonen nodded, and seemed to be trying to visualise what he had said. ‘Ah … fire on a ghost train. You mean those puppets in the talk show?’
‘Exactly. It would indicate very explicitly what kind of death the puppets were supposed to have died in a film. I think that programme struck a note in a relative mourning a victim who died like that, and then …’
‘That sounds rather way-out … rather specific,’ said Heinonen.
‘I know, but what’s going on at this moment is also rather specific, isn’t it?’
Heinonen nodded, but he did not look convinced.
‘Anyway, that’s what I’m going to do. Never mind what the rest of you say.’
He sat down at his desk, still thinking of Paulina as the computer came on. He would have to talk to her. He just didn’t know how. Paulina knew what had been going on, so she must be in a position to stop Tuomas. Who could do it if she couldn’t?
He thought of the banknotes in Heinonen’s coat pocket. A fortune behind a zip fastener, and presumably Tuomas had brought it with him so that after office hours, or even before then, he could take it to the nearest betting shop.
He shook that thought off and called Päivi Holmquist down in Archives. Her voice sounded pleasantly bright and carefree. ‘Of course I can help you,’ she said, when he had explained his idea.
‘Wonderful. Er … how?’
‘These days we have very easy and comprehensive access to the newspaper archives,’ she said.
‘Using the right Search commands, I’m sure I could start by drawing you up a list of the kind of accidents you’re after.’
‘That’s great,’ said Joentaa.
‘Then we’d have to dig a little deeper to find out the names of the people who died in such accidents. And then, if I understand you correctly, it’s a matter of finding the names of their relatives.’
‘Yes … that’s exactly it,’ said Joentaa.
‘Then I’ll start right away,’ said Päivi.
‘Thank you,’ said Joentaa.
He sat there with the phone in his hand, and suddenly felt great reluctance to find the relatives of the dead. To rekindle their grief on the basis of what was probably a wild, hare-brained idea.
‘Do you really expect something to come of that?’ asked Heinonen, sitting opposite him.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Patrik Laukkanen had debts,’ said Heinonen.
Joentaa raised his head and looked enquiringly at him.
‘He’d lost money speculating on the stock exchange,’ said Heinonen.
‘And what does that have to do with the murder of Mäkelä and the attempted murder of Hämäläinen?’
‘We haven’t got that far yet,’ said Heinonen.
Joentaa nodded.
‘It was simply an observation,’ said Heinonen.
Joentaa stood up abruptly. He wanted to go home. At once. Stand in front of the little tree with Larissa. What business of his were Patrik Laukkanen’s debts? He had no right to know about them.
He went down and past the tall, lavishly decorated Christmas tree to the drinks vending machine. He fed in coins and took a bottle of water. When he went back up, Heinonen was coming towards him. With that veiled, hunted look in his eyes.
‘I have to go out,’ he said.
Kimmo Joentaa nodded.
‘Back in ten minutes.’
Joentaa watched Heinonen head out into the driving snow. After walking a few metres he began to run.