Death Spiral by Leena Lehtolainen Page A

suffer much. But who could measure another person’s pain and fear, and did it really matter in the end how long the fear of death lasted? I remembered Noora’s gaze again as she played a girl looking her own death in the eyes. I didn’t want to imagine how she had looked in the actual situation, so I quickly asked another question.
    “You left the ice rink around six, right? Had Ulrika Weissenberg already left too? Did you see anyone around the building who wasn’t usually there?”
    “Ulrika’s gold BMW was still in the parking lot. I remember because it had started raining and I wondered whether she could drop me off at the bus stop. When I didn’t see her, though, I just ran. Tomi, Elena’s husband, drove up while I was leaving.”
    “So you didn’t see Vesku Teräsvuori?” I asked directly.
    “No, although he does hang around the rink sometimes, waiting for Noora and her mom. I didn’t notice him yesterday, though.”
    Silja went quiet again and grabbed a furry teddy bear to hold too. The pile of animals seemed strange in the otherwise grown-up girl’s room, but maybe they were presents from fans. Nothing in the room indicated that a top-level figure skater lived in it. On the walls there were a couple of posters of calming forest landscapes, and the dried bouquet of roses on top of the bookshelf looked more like a confirmation gift than anything from an admirer. A trophy case wouldn’t have fit in the room. Maybe the cups and medals were in the living room.
    Silja blew her nose loudly but still managed to look elegant while doing it. She squeezed the bear and the raccoon tightly.
    Suddenly she looked up and almost yelled. “You know the skates are a really important piece of evidence, right? Whoever killed Noora knew that she had the perfect murder weapon in her bag. It had to be someone who knew her!”
    “Since Edmonton, a lot of people know Noora,” I replied, although I had been thinking the same thing. “But yes, whoever killed Noora may well have been someone who knew her, even if she didn’t know them. And it wouldn’t have been hard to guess that Noora had skates in her bag, since she was coming out of the ice rink.”
    “But how would a stranger have been able to get the skates in the first place? Actually, though, I can imagine exactly how it happened.” Silja blew her nose again before continuing. “Noora had a really deep hollow sharpened in her blades so she could get a really tight, low arc on her death spiral. We were all looking at it yesterday at the rink. Someone must have asked Noora to show it to them on the way home. Someone Noora trusted . . .”
    Silja started sobbing so hard it was difficult to understand her. “Instead of looking at the blades, whoever it was started hitting her with them . . .” Silja buried her face in the raccoon.
    Koivu glanced at me. He clearly wanted to stop the tape and end the interview. Terttu Taskinen came to the door, but she didn’t say anything. She just sat down next to her daughter and wrapped her arms around her.
    “Let’s stop now, Silja. I respect your theory, but try not to think too much about Noora’s murderer being one of your friends. It’s more likely it was someone else. You’re very brave for talking to us.” I gingerly patted her trembling shoulder.
    After wrapping up the interview tape, I nodded to Koivu that we should go.
    “One more thing,” Silja said as we were leaving. “Noora had this big blow up because she couldn’t find her skate bags. Her mom must have left them on her old ones. Because her skates were in her bag with everything else, she put blade guards on them. She was worried about them rusting even though they were brand new.”
    Rubber skate guards were soft and porous, so fingerprints would stick to them. Where were they now?
    In the car my blond bear cub of a partner was strangely quiet.
    “Have you seen Silja skate?” he finally asked, glancing at me as if ashamed.
    “Yes, in person and on