ERNE CAREFULLY WIPES his feet on the doormat. The action immediately feels pointless and absurd.
“Where’s Jessica?”
“In the living room,” Yusuf replies, and steps around his boss in the entryway. Erne strides across the hallway into the living room, where there are now almost as many people as the night before. Jessica is sitting at the long table, in the chair last occupied by Maria Koponen. Her clenched fists rest on the table in front of her; her face is grave.
Erne walks up to her. “Are you all right?”
“Who, me?” Jessica’s eyes are boring into the table.
Erne looks out to where a half dozen SWAT team members are guarding the shore with their submachine guns. Another half dozen armed figures are combing the ice farther out.
“This is no normal murder investigation, Erne,” Jessica says, slowly unclenching her fists.
“That’s been clear since last night.” Erne lowers his fingers to Jessica’s knuckles. Her eyes follow the gesture, but the expression on her face remains impassive.
“They’re toying with us . . . with me. . . . It can’t be a coincidence that I was at the shore just then—”
“This isn’t personal. It could have been any of us down at the shore. Yusuf, me . . . one of the patrolmen . . .”
“I wouldn’t be so sure, Erne. There’s something really weird going on. . . . I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“But now you have to. Otherwise the investigation will suffer.”
“I suppose,” Jessica says, slowly extracting her hand from Erne’s grip.
Erne stands and walks over to the sliding doors. “The woman—”
“Is she—”
“She’s in good shape, considering. Suffering from hypothermia, in shock. But the doctor said she’ll survive.”
“When can we talk to her?”
“Soon, I think. She was just booked into Töölö Hospital.”
“What about security—”
“Handled. No one is going to be able to get to her,” Erne says, and lets his gaze slide across the living room. He hears Jessica curse softly and she shakes her head.
“What the fuck was that creep with horns—”
Erne sighs. “Jessica—”
That’s all he has to say.
“You don’t believe me?”
Erne doesn’t answer. There’s no point in debating. He has seen Jessica in this state only once before, almost fifteen years ago, and neither of them has been the same since.
“Well?” Jessica asks insistently.
“The area is being combed. As of yet, we haven’t found anyone in the vicinity who matches the description.”
“Great, so no one has seen a guy with horns wandering around. . . .”
Jessica sighs, eliciting a grunt from Erne.
“Nor was there another hole found in the ice where a diver could have entered the water with the victim. The coast guard has taken over that aspect of the search.”
Jessica rubs her forehead. Yusuf steps into the room, pulling on his coat. Erne gestures for him to sit next to Jessica, and Yusuf does as ordered.
“Listen up, you two. Even though the case is unusual, we can’t get discouraged and just lie down and give up. We have five victims now, the last of which survived—”
“Because, for whatever reason, they didn’t want to kill her,” Jessica says, tracing a figure eight on the tabletop with her finger.
“I just talked to command over the phone. They’ve given us more manpower. Yusuf, you’re going to be the point man with the folks from NBI.”
“Got it,” Yusuf says, arms crossed.
“What about the man we saw on the security cam tapes?” Jessica says. “Now it looks like it really is Roger Koponen, as incredible as that seems.”
“What’s our strategy for dealing with the media?”
“It’s being resolved as we speak.”
“Is Koponen our prime suspect now?”
“That’s a call we have to make ASAP.”