JESSICA RAPS INSISTENTLY on the door. Yusuf is standing behind her. It feels bad, dragging an old woman out of bed at three in the morning, but right now they don’t have any choice.
Jessica looks at the dark green door and its bright white frame. The paint job looks surprisingly fresh, almost brand-new. The big, ornate wooden house on the crest of the hill is like something out of a different time and place. It has to be one of the oldest houses still standing on Kulosaari, an evocation of the past. Through the small window, Jessica sees a light come on in the entryway. Then she hears a fearful voice through the door.
“Who is it?”
“Police. Detectives Niemi and Pepple. We were here last night.”
For a moment, it seems as if nothing is happening. Then the door slowly opens, and the old woman is standing in the entryway, looking scared and sleepy, in a light blue robe with a nightgown in the same shade visible underneath.
“I remember you,” she says but doesn’t step aside. The cold wind tousles her curled bangs.
“Mrs. Adlerkreutz, may we come in? It’s important.”
“What’s wrong?”
“May we?” Jessica repeats as calmly as possible, and nods toward the hall inside.
“For goodness’ sake, you certainly chose quite a time,” the old woman huffs, then gestures for Jessica to come in.
“I’m sorry to have to wake you up like this, but it’s urgent.”
“I daresay,” Mrs. Adlerkreutz says as Yusuf pulls the door shut behind him.
Jessica is about to step off the doormat when Mrs. Adlerkreutz points at her shoes and wags a finger. “Could you please remove your shoes?”
“I . . . Of course,” Jessica replies with a frown. The night before, Mrs. Adlerkreutz’s views on the matter were completely the opposite.
“I need to take another look in your bedroom.”
“You can’t see the text from there anymore—”
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to take another look anyway.” Jessica pulls off her other shoe and sets the pair side by side on the doormat. She is enveloped in the smell of old wood and damp.
“I’ll wait here,” Yusuf says, hands on his hips. He glances at his shoes; he’s too lazy to unlace them just to lace them back up again.
“Fine,” Jessica says, and turns toward Mrs. Adlerkreutz, who seems a little put off as she belts the robe more tightly around her waist.
“For goodness’ sake. I suppose we’d better go upstairs, then.”
“HAVE YOU MADE any progress?” she asks as they shuffle up the stairs at a leisurely pace. So leisurely that Jessica has time to study the photographs hanging in the stairwell. Just like upstairs, the majority are black-and-white group portraits.
“You can put your mind at ease, ma’am. This is one case we’re going to solve,” Jessica says, unsure why she wants to make empty promises to the old woman. The stairs creak beneath her feet, and she hears the woman yawn as she climbs one slow tread at a time.
Finally, Jessica sees light beaming through the open door at the end of the hall.
“So, you wanted to have another look at the Koponens’ house . . . ,” Mrs. Adlerkreutz mutters.
“I just need a moment at the bedroom window. Then we’ll let you get back to sleep,” Jessica says, following the doddering woman toward her bedroom.
“All right, be my guest. I haven’t made the bed, for understandable reasons.”
Jessica smiles at Mrs. Adlerkreutz and enters the bedroom. She walks slowly to the window and lowers her fingers to the frame.
They missed the most important thing. . . .