JESSICA HAS CROUCHED down next to the woman on the floor. The shop’s large display windows have been covered with plastic sheeting, but the flash of the emergency vehicles’ blue lights penetrates the space.
“Pretty straightforward,” Jessica says, and rubs her fingers inside her rubber gloves. Irma Helle is sprawled on her stomach, arms at her sides; there’s a large, bloody contusion at the back of her head. Only a couple of meters away lies the likely murder weapon: a brass curtain rod, one end of which is smeared with a red pulp.
“This diverges from all the other killings in the sense that nothing like it appears in Koponen’s books,” Yusuf says in a low voice, stepping out of the way of a technical investigator in white coveralls. The little shop is full of racks of clothes, which make moving around a challenge. The door is shut, but even so, they talk in whispers, as if the walls have ears. Who knows? Maybe they do. Nothing feels impossible anymore.
“In other words, this is the first homicide that wasn’t carefully planned.”
“But that is still undeniably linked to the earlier killings.”
“Absolutely. And on top of everything else, the perpetrator is a woman. A woman who resembles some of the victims.”
“Maybe they wanted to silence Irma Helle.”
“But why wait until now? Helle could have called her tip in earlier today.”
“What’s the tip we’re talking about here . . . the sizes of the gowns she ordered?” Yusuf asks as he makes his way to the desktop computer on the counter.
“If Maria Koponen ordered five gowns and we’ve only found four of them so far, we can assume one victim is still waiting to be dressed.” Jessica allows her gaze to scan the shop. There’s a doorway at the rear that leads down to a cellarlike workroom with two big sewing machines. “Helle mentioned a notebook on the phone. Do you see anything like that?” she then asks.
“No, but I do see a lot of pens,” Yusuf says, taking pictures of the counter with his phone.
Jessica sighs and glances at her phone. Erne has called twice.
“Something else come up?”
“Erne’s hot and bothered because I didn’t follow orders.”
“He has the stripes to shelf you like that,” Yusuf says with a snap of his fingers.
“He’s not going to. Not now, when things are such a mess.”
“We can only hope. What do you want to do?” Yusuf asks, hands on his hips.
“Let’s go to the station. And solve this before anyone else dies.”
Yusuf zips up his coat. “As long as we hit the McDo drive-through on the way. You have cash?”
Jessica pulls on her hood. “Actually, I found your card. It was in my coat pocket.”