the file on to the passenger seat, climbed up into the seat, flicked on the police radio and stuck the key in the ignition. Only then did it hit him: sweat began to drip from his brow and armpits, and his hands trembled so much that his wedding ring began tapping repeatedly against the steering wheel.
‘Good God,’ he sighed heavily. Deep in his stomach he could feel the acceleration through the fall, and the images of all the dozens of balcony suicides he had dealt with flashed before his eyes; all the brain matter and shards of skull he had scraped off the streets throughout the city.
Now that he was no longer outside but shut inside the confined space of the car, he realised that his clothes and hair stank of death, of a decomposing body, and of the nightmare he had just witnessed. The thought of the flies and the larvae filled his mind and soon his back began to itch, then his arms, and soon afterwards his legs too. He hurriedly got out of the car, went round the back, wrenched the sliding door open and jumped into the interview space at the back. The windows were darkened and no one could see inside. He tore off his jacket and shirt and rolled up his trouser legs. There was nothing there – of course.
He remained on the bench, resting on his elbows, and sighed. For a while he sat there motionless. It occurred to him that back at the station there was a sauna, warmed round the clock, and that there was a decent set of spare clothes in his locker. He gave his shirt a thorough shake, put it back on, and ran his fingers through his hair for a final inspection.
‘Anyone from Violent Crimes on the line?’ came the voice of the duty officer over the radio – it sounded like that of Joutsen – and Harjunpääknew immediately that that meant only one thing: another job. ‘No, there’s no one on the line,’ he muttered to himself.
‘All officers: is there anyone from Violent Crimes on the line?’
Harjunpää slammed the sliding door shut and walked back towards the driver’s seat. Just then his work mobile began to ring. He let it ring three times before picking it up, glanced reluctantly at the screen, then finally relented, pressed the button and raised the phone to his ear.
‘Crime Squad, Harjunpää.’
‘Hi, it’s Pete,’ said Tupala. He was the sergeant major who ran the Violent Crimes office and delegated all the assignments. Tupala never lost his nerve, no matter how awful the matter in hand. He always managed to sound jolly, almost amused.
‘You’re on mornings, right? Free?’
‘I just got back from a pretty nasty job.’
‘All officers, I repeat: is there anyone from Violent Crimes downtown?’
‘Something’s come up.’
‘Where’s Base?’
‘Taking that rape victim from the ferry down to the lab. Both duty sergeants are in Uutela fishing round a lake for a body, and everyone else is at staff training.’
‘The switchboard still needs someone from Violent Crimes. Is there anyone on the line?’
‘What’s the location?’
‘Hakaniemi underground station,’ said Tupala. ‘Someone’s gone and topped themselves. Completely mangled up apparently, jammed in along the undercarriage, so they’re having a hard time getting him out.’
‘I’ll take it. Send forensics down there, and Mononen too.’
‘They’re already on their way. Mononen’s coming in with your previous man, then heading straight off to Uutela.’
‘Thanks. Over.’
Harjunpää shoved the mobile back in his pocket and grabbed the microphone from the dashboard. ‘Copy. This is 198 and Harjunpää. If this is the Hakaniemi job, then I’m on my way.’
‘Excellent. How far are you?’
‘I’m still in Lauttasaari.’
‘OK, this is fairly urgent so get down there as soon as you can. The entire underground service has been stopped and it’s chaos at the station – thousands of people milling about.’
‘Over and out.’
Harjunpää leant over and began winding down the window. The feelings of
‘Good God,’ he sighed heavily. Deep in his stomach he could feel the acceleration through the fall, and the images of all the dozens of balcony suicides he had dealt with flashed before his eyes; all the brain matter and shards of skull he had scraped off the streets throughout the city.
Now that he was no longer outside but shut inside the confined space of the car, he realised that his clothes and hair stank of death, of a decomposing body, and of the nightmare he had just witnessed. The thought of the flies and the larvae filled his mind and soon his back began to itch, then his arms, and soon afterwards his legs too. He hurriedly got out of the car, went round the back, wrenched the sliding door open and jumped into the interview space at the back. The windows were darkened and no one could see inside. He tore off his jacket and shirt and rolled up his trouser legs. There was nothing there – of course.
He remained on the bench, resting on his elbows, and sighed. For a while he sat there motionless. It occurred to him that back at the station there was a sauna, warmed round the clock, and that there was a decent set of spare clothes in his locker. He gave his shirt a thorough shake, put it back on, and ran his fingers through his hair for a final inspection.
‘Anyone from Violent Crimes on the line?’ came the voice of the duty officer over the radio – it sounded like that of Joutsen – and Harjunpääknew immediately that that meant only one thing: another job. ‘No, there’s no one on the line,’ he muttered to himself.
‘All officers: is there anyone from Violent Crimes on the line?’
Harjunpää slammed the sliding door shut and walked back towards the driver’s seat. Just then his work mobile began to ring. He let it ring three times before picking it up, glanced reluctantly at the screen, then finally relented, pressed the button and raised the phone to his ear.
‘Crime Squad, Harjunpää.’
‘Hi, it’s Pete,’ said Tupala. He was the sergeant major who ran the Violent Crimes office and delegated all the assignments. Tupala never lost his nerve, no matter how awful the matter in hand. He always managed to sound jolly, almost amused.
‘You’re on mornings, right? Free?’
‘I just got back from a pretty nasty job.’
‘All officers, I repeat: is there anyone from Violent Crimes downtown?’
‘Something’s come up.’
‘Where’s Base?’
‘Taking that rape victim from the ferry down to the lab. Both duty sergeants are in Uutela fishing round a lake for a body, and everyone else is at staff training.’
‘The switchboard still needs someone from Violent Crimes. Is there anyone on the line?’
‘What’s the location?’
‘Hakaniemi underground station,’ said Tupala. ‘Someone’s gone and topped themselves. Completely mangled up apparently, jammed in along the undercarriage, so they’re having a hard time getting him out.’
‘I’ll take it. Send forensics down there, and Mononen too.’
‘They’re already on their way. Mononen’s coming in with your previous man, then heading straight off to Uutela.’
‘Thanks. Over.’
Harjunpää shoved the mobile back in his pocket and grabbed the microphone from the dashboard. ‘Copy. This is 198 and Harjunpää. If this is the Hakaniemi job, then I’m on my way.’
‘Excellent. How far are you?’
‘I’m still in Lauttasaari.’
‘OK, this is fairly urgent so get down there as soon as you can. The entire underground service has been stopped and it’s chaos at the station – thousands of people milling about.’
‘Over and out.’
Harjunpää leant over and began winding down the window. The feelings of
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