parking lot of a strip mall in Peltolammi. The police suspected it was a homicide and asked for the public’s assistance. The article rather superficially described the man’s features, and mentioned his disability—the most crucial identifying characteristic.
Koskinen turned the page. But the peace negotiations in the Middle East didn’t interest him, and his thoughts were still tied up with the case. If they didn’t start getting some tips soon, the amount of work ahead of them would be agonizing.
His phone started ringing under the paper. Koskinen groped for it, and, once he got it into his hand, the caller ID told him who was calling.
“You ’re at the office already?” he blurted without saying good morning.
“Niininen called at four thirty,” Pekki answered in a gruff voice. “We got another fun one.”
Koskinen’s blood went cold. “The same or what?”
“Not exactly. And this one’s still breathing, but just barely.”
“Are there any other similarities?”
“Not really. He was walloped with something a little harder than a pillow—skull ’ s smashed to bits.”
Even though Koskinen couldn’t see it, he knew how Pekki was leafing through his notebook.
“Seventy-year-old male. Found in his own yard in Ikuri.”
“Who found him?”
“Paperboy.”
“Any leads on a suspect?”
“None at all,” Pekki grunted. “Riipinen just called from the scene. The man lived alone and even the nearest neighbors didn’t hear or see anything.”
“Of course,” Koskinen sighed. “Get Forensics to work. I’ll be there soon—”
“That’s not all,” Pekki interrupted. “We got our first break on that mess from the other night.”
“Really?” Koskinen was excited. “From where?”
“Some home for invalids.”
“But we called all of them yesterday afternoon.”
“Yeah, we did, but it was a different person on the phone. She claimed the description in the paper fits one of their patients.”
“Send someone over to check.”
“That’s just the shitty thing about it. I have to go over to Ikuri and relieve Riipinen so he can go home and sleep.”
“And what about Kaatio and Eskola?”
“They’re not here yet, and Ulla is out today.”
“Where?”
“At the doctor,” Pekki said irately. “You gave her permission yourself.”
“Oh, yeah,” Koskinen said, his concern for his co - worker being revived. “You don’t happen to know why Ulla went to the doctor?”
“She wouldn’t say, but it’s probably just women’s troubles.”
For some reason Pekki’s response irritated Koskinen.
“I’ll go over the re then. Just tell me the address,” he said curtly.
Apparently Pekki didn’t notice Koskinen’s sudden aggravation.
“ The name of the home is Wolf House. It’s on Susi Street in Kissanmaa. M ake sure you’re up on your rabies vaccine s, ” Pekki laughed.
Koskinen didn’t feel like joining in Pekki’s merriment , and hung up . He folded up the newspaper and rinsed his dishes. Patches of mold had appeared on the potato bread overnight. He shoved it into a trash bag with the rancid margarine and headed out with it.
Wednesday was turning out to be dry and warm, more beautiful than average for the last week of September. And his bicycle hadn’t even been stolen from the wall of the building over night.
In a good mood, Koskinen set off pedaling, and started to plan out his day. Before retriev ing a car from the police garage for his trip to the Wolf House , he would need to advise Taru’s new stand-in about her tasks for the day.
That thought immediately darkened his mood.
He coasted the couple of miles down the bike path before realizing that the only reason he needed to go to the station was for the picture of the corpse. But Forensics had already distributed a touched-up picture of the victim’s face to everyone involved in the investigation. He stopped, took his backpack off, and whistled in satisfaction. He had put the picture in his notebook the
Koskinen turned the page. But the peace negotiations in the Middle East didn’t interest him, and his thoughts were still tied up with the case. If they didn’t start getting some tips soon, the amount of work ahead of them would be agonizing.
His phone started ringing under the paper. Koskinen groped for it, and, once he got it into his hand, the caller ID told him who was calling.
“You ’re at the office already?” he blurted without saying good morning.
“Niininen called at four thirty,” Pekki answered in a gruff voice. “We got another fun one.”
Koskinen’s blood went cold. “The same or what?”
“Not exactly. And this one’s still breathing, but just barely.”
“Are there any other similarities?”
“Not really. He was walloped with something a little harder than a pillow—skull ’ s smashed to bits.”
Even though Koskinen couldn’t see it, he knew how Pekki was leafing through his notebook.
“Seventy-year-old male. Found in his own yard in Ikuri.”
“Who found him?”
“Paperboy.”
“Any leads on a suspect?”
“None at all,” Pekki grunted. “Riipinen just called from the scene. The man lived alone and even the nearest neighbors didn’t hear or see anything.”
“Of course,” Koskinen sighed. “Get Forensics to work. I’ll be there soon—”
“That’s not all,” Pekki interrupted. “We got our first break on that mess from the other night.”
“Really?” Koskinen was excited. “From where?”
“Some home for invalids.”
“But we called all of them yesterday afternoon.”
“Yeah, we did, but it was a different person on the phone. She claimed the description in the paper fits one of their patients.”
“Send someone over to check.”
“That’s just the shitty thing about it. I have to go over to Ikuri and relieve Riipinen so he can go home and sleep.”
“And what about Kaatio and Eskola?”
“They’re not here yet, and Ulla is out today.”
“Where?”
“At the doctor,” Pekki said irately. “You gave her permission yourself.”
“Oh, yeah,” Koskinen said, his concern for his co - worker being revived. “You don’t happen to know why Ulla went to the doctor?”
“She wouldn’t say, but it’s probably just women’s troubles.”
For some reason Pekki’s response irritated Koskinen.
“I’ll go over the re then. Just tell me the address,” he said curtly.
Apparently Pekki didn’t notice Koskinen’s sudden aggravation.
“ The name of the home is Wolf House. It’s on Susi Street in Kissanmaa. M ake sure you’re up on your rabies vaccine s, ” Pekki laughed.
Koskinen didn’t feel like joining in Pekki’s merriment , and hung up . He folded up the newspaper and rinsed his dishes. Patches of mold had appeared on the potato bread overnight. He shoved it into a trash bag with the rancid margarine and headed out with it.
Wednesday was turning out to be dry and warm, more beautiful than average for the last week of September. And his bicycle hadn’t even been stolen from the wall of the building over night.
In a good mood, Koskinen set off pedaling, and started to plan out his day. Before retriev ing a car from the police garage for his trip to the Wolf House , he would need to advise Taru’s new stand-in about her tasks for the day.
That thought immediately darkened his mood.
He coasted the couple of miles down the bike path before realizing that the only reason he needed to go to the station was for the picture of the corpse. But Forensics had already distributed a touched-up picture of the victim’s face to everyone involved in the investigation. He stopped, took his backpack off, and whistled in satisfaction. He had put the picture in his notebook the
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