emptiness and helplessness were long gone, though he wasn’t quite sure how he had managed to dispel them, they had simply vanished. Everyone in Violent Crimes could dispel feelings like that, and those that couldn’t soon disappeared from the force. He picked up the blue flashing light from beside his feet, stuck the black cable dangling from the dashboard into the back of the dome and held it out of the open window. There came a soft thump, a metallic kiss as the strong magnet clamped the flashing light to the roof.
He shifted himself round behind the steering wheel and a map of the city centre began to form in his mind. The most direct route would have taken him through the downtown area, but this would not necessarily have been the quickest. The area around Kansakoulukatu and Simonkatu was always heavily congested. He was about to settle for an alternative route, taking him around the bay at Töölönlahti, then along Helsinginkatu and through the streets of Kallio, when he remembered the tram lines: that would allow him to drive through the traffic and take him straight from the Central Railway Station to Hakaniemi underground. He had to give it shot.
He turned the ignition and the engine roared into life. From the sound it made you could tell it wasn’t your average motor. He switched the gearbox to D. The Transporter was an automatic, which made it a lot easier to drive, particularly in an emergency, as it allowed him to concentrate more on the other traffic. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, turned on the sirens and sped off.
A few metres before the junction of Meripuistotie and Lauttasaarentie he reached down and flicked the furthest of four upright switches on the dashboard, and a red light came on. The light on the car’s roof began flashing and regular, electric blue pulses beamed from the cooling vents. When he pressed the switch again the sides of the car let out an excruciating wail – wee wah wee wah .
He passed easily through the first junction – the traffic lights were green – then he put his foot down and headed towards Lauttasaari bridge, the sirens’ blaring now long and high-pitched. One part of his mind was going through all the things any motorist should remember: not too fast, speeding only caused accidents. Calm and controlled driving, through narrow openings that always appeared as long as you were patient enough. One thing he had to bear in mind was that, although inside an emergency vehicle the sound of the sirens seems to fill your entire head, it often sounds muffled and muted to other drivers and it is difficult to judge which direction it is coming from.
At the same time another part of him realised that dealing with death on the underground was just as straightforward as dealing with people run over by trains: interview eye-witnesses and breathalyse the driver as a routine check. After that they would have to start moving the train back one segment of track at a time to ensure that all human remains and pieces of clothing stuck to the undercarriage were retrieved. The firemen would help them with that. Then they would have to check through the security videos and identify the body. And that was just for starters.
To his astonishment he passed along Ruoholahdenkatu and Malminrinne without any trouble – perhaps this was because the lights at the front of the car were so effective: they were at just the right height so that other motorists could see them easily in their rear-view mirrors. Only on Kansakoulukatu did he get stuck in traffic. On the left side of the street, next to a row of parked cars, was a lorry unloading its cargo. Harjunpää turned the steering wheel to the right and so did the silver Micra in front of him. Only as the Micra drew level with the back of the lorry did the driver notice the flashing lights in his mirror. He panicked. He hit the brakes – and so did Harjunpää. There was a screech of wheels, and as they came to a halt there was barely ten
He shifted himself round behind the steering wheel and a map of the city centre began to form in his mind. The most direct route would have taken him through the downtown area, but this would not necessarily have been the quickest. The area around Kansakoulukatu and Simonkatu was always heavily congested. He was about to settle for an alternative route, taking him around the bay at Töölönlahti, then along Helsinginkatu and through the streets of Kallio, when he remembered the tram lines: that would allow him to drive through the traffic and take him straight from the Central Railway Station to Hakaniemi underground. He had to give it shot.
He turned the ignition and the engine roared into life. From the sound it made you could tell it wasn’t your average motor. He switched the gearbox to D. The Transporter was an automatic, which made it a lot easier to drive, particularly in an emergency, as it allowed him to concentrate more on the other traffic. He glanced in the rear-view mirror, turned on the sirens and sped off.
A few metres before the junction of Meripuistotie and Lauttasaarentie he reached down and flicked the furthest of four upright switches on the dashboard, and a red light came on. The light on the car’s roof began flashing and regular, electric blue pulses beamed from the cooling vents. When he pressed the switch again the sides of the car let out an excruciating wail – wee wah wee wah .
He passed easily through the first junction – the traffic lights were green – then he put his foot down and headed towards Lauttasaari bridge, the sirens’ blaring now long and high-pitched. One part of his mind was going through all the things any motorist should remember: not too fast, speeding only caused accidents. Calm and controlled driving, through narrow openings that always appeared as long as you were patient enough. One thing he had to bear in mind was that, although inside an emergency vehicle the sound of the sirens seems to fill your entire head, it often sounds muffled and muted to other drivers and it is difficult to judge which direction it is coming from.
At the same time another part of him realised that dealing with death on the underground was just as straightforward as dealing with people run over by trains: interview eye-witnesses and breathalyse the driver as a routine check. After that they would have to start moving the train back one segment of track at a time to ensure that all human remains and pieces of clothing stuck to the undercarriage were retrieved. The firemen would help them with that. Then they would have to check through the security videos and identify the body. And that was just for starters.
To his astonishment he passed along Ruoholahdenkatu and Malminrinne without any trouble – perhaps this was because the lights at the front of the car were so effective: they were at just the right height so that other motorists could see them easily in their rear-view mirrors. Only on Kansakoulukatu did he get stuck in traffic. On the left side of the street, next to a row of parked cars, was a lorry unloading its cargo. Harjunpää turned the steering wheel to the right and so did the silver Micra in front of him. Only as the Micra drew level with the back of the lorry did the driver notice the flashing lights in his mirror. He panicked. He hit the brakes – and so did Harjunpää. There was a screech of wheels, and as they came to a halt there was barely ten
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