help you with,” she says. “The Russian trade delegation owns close to a dozen apartments. They’ve rented several more. Natasha Polyanova manages the properties for the trade delegation.”
“Can you get me a list of the properties?”
She broaches no foolishness. Her tone turns put out. “As you can see, I’m a busy woman with weighty matters to attend to. Surely a detective as astute as yourself can secure the list without my assistance.”
“I can indeed. However, her phone number is no longer in service. Do you know where I can find her?”
She’s getting a little pissed off. “If she manages so many properties, don’t you think it likely that she lives in one of them? Do I have to do all your thinking for you?”
“No, you’ve done quite enough.” I reconsider. “One more question: Why leave fingerprints on the door handle and the butcher knife?”
Her eyes glitter again. “To make more problems for my husband, of course.”
I thank her for her time.
“Actually,” she says, “I’m going to do one more favor for you. I’ve considered it for some months, and now the timing is perfect. It will both ruin my husband and help you accomplish your mission of mercy. Or, at the very least, render him unable to do anything to stop you. He’ll return to Helsinki in a couple hours and get his surprise in the morning.”
My curiosity is piqued. “Would you care to share your plan with me?”
Her face returns to its former reflection of innocence and her laugh is delighted and genuine. “Inspector Vaara, hasn’t anyone ever told you that you should be careful what you wish for? Come visit me in my room at Kämp tomorrow morning. All will be clear then.”
She takes out a wallet from her purse and offers me a key card. “Let yourself in.”
“I already have a card,” I say. “I took Sasha’s wallet.”
“Efficiency,” she says, “something I admire.”
And with that, she gets up and walks away.
30
I find the situation at home much as usual. Sweetness and Jenna slurp beer. Milo lying on my couch, his head propped up by pillows, my laptop balanced on his knees. His eyes are blood red. I take it he’s stoned.
“Where is Kate?” I ask him.
“In the bedroom with Anu.”
I feel foolish, but we haven’t established the rules of engagement, and I knock on my own bedroom door.
“Come,” Kate says, and I feel like I should be in livery, awaiting her instructions.
She’s lying on top of the covers, wearing sweatpants and shirt, old workout clothes. No books or magazines are in evidence. She’s staring at the wall, a vague expression of terror on her face, and doesn’t look at me when I enter. “Am I in the hospital?” she asks.
“No, you’re in your home. Do you know who I am?”
Her eyes don’t waver. “No.”
I sit on the edge of the bed. “I’m Kari, your husband.”
“I’m tired,” she says. “Would you leave so I can rest?”
“OK. Can I take Anu with me, so I can feed and change her?”
She nods. I pick up Anu and close the door behind me as I leave.
I sit in my chair, Anu in my lap. Katt hops on top of the chair, now mended by Jenna, and mercifully only wraps his paws around my neck as if trying to strangle me rather than using me for a scratching post.
“How’s Kate?” Milo asks.
We keep our voices low. Kate sometimes understands Finnish. It depends mostly on the subject matter. “Bad. How’s your diabolical plan to overthrow the government coming?”
“Pretty well. Every Saturday, Osmo Ahtiainen and Jyri Ivalo play golf together at the Vuosaari Golf Club. They’re members, tee off at eleven, play the first nine, have lunch in the restaurant, then play the second nine. So I’ve placed them together in an open area. In Phillip Moore’s iPad, it says that Veikko Saukko ‘drives’ every day at noon, including Saturdays. He, incidentally and unfortunately, plays golf on a course every Sunday, and not at the Vuosaari club. I need to know what ‘drive’ refers to. It sounds promising, some kind of activity that takes him out of his house. As far as the two Corsicans go, I only have their work schedules.”
“Are you still going to murder them all?”
He looks up at me. “Oh, yes, there’s no doubt about that. Of course, if Moore follows through and murders the Corsicans, it’s one less thing we have to do.”
“And after all these people are dead, what becomes of us? Do we wait a reasonable length