Helsinki White

36

Milo’s father is dead but apparently was something of a character—Milo’s mother once stabbed him for philandering—but Milo seldom mentions him. However, he taught Milo to sail. He fires up the engines, gives instructions, and we’re out on the open sea in just a few minutes. Milo can be an aggravating fuck, but his confidence with all things technical can be reassuring at times, and this is one.

He’s dog sick from pontikka overdose, pukes over the rail a few times. Sweetness is no better, even by his standards he got shitfaced and looks like death. In addition to being sick from drinking, they’re covered with cuts and bruises from fighting. Milo has a butterfly Band-Aid holding his eyebrow together. Both of them have black eyes. Milo limps. Sweetness has a fat lip, split open but short of needing stitches. Neither holds a grudge, though. Instead, they laugh about it. It was just what they needed. Men are like that sometimes. Sweetness finds the bar and hair of the dog.

After a couple hours, we find the island, tie the boat off at the dock next to an older, smaller and somewhat dilapidated vessel. We walk up a winding path to the so-called summer cottage. I would guess it’s about a hundred years old, and as Saukko said, “cottage” is a misnomer. It’s bigger than a house, too small to qualify as a mansion.

We find no one here, but someone was here, a while ago. The garbage wasn’t taken out. Dirty dishes left in the sink. And Saukko was right about the gamekeeper. His cottage is empty. His belongings are in the house proper. I guess at a certain point, maybe after some years went by, he realized that the place was forgotten, that he was employed but forgotten too, and moved into a lovely remodeled home in an idyllic setting. We take a walk around the grounds, both forest and meadows are behind the home, the ocean view in front of it.

The gamekeeper must have lived in peace and comfort, until one day a bad man or men came and ruined it all. We find four shallow graves behind the house. A little scooping and kicking away dirt with our hands and feet reveal four bodies in late decomp, consistent with about a year since death. A grown man and three children. The gamekeeper and Kosonen’s three kids. So they were kept here as blackmail to force their father to carry out the kidnapping. There’s still no solid proof that Antti was behind it, but I’d give good odds on it.

A hypothesis forms of its own accord, just hits me all at once. Killing three children wouldn’t come easy to an inexperienced killer. I think he had an accomplice or accomplices. In this investigation, I’ve come across three men I believe capable of the crimes that have occurred. One of them is here with us now. The other two sell heroin and pâté.

My guess: The gamekeeper was murdered straightaway. Antti hid out here on this island while he was supposedly kidnapped. His job was to kill Kosonen, come back here with the money, wait for his accomplice or accomplices, divide up their ten million euros, and then they would go their separate ways and he would disappear, begin life anew under a different identity.

But he didn’t wait. He had another boat he had stolen from his father, an Ocean Master 310 Sport Cabin, according to the manifest. He abandoned the children to his partner or partners in crime to deal with them and left. Realizing they had gotten fucked, they killed the kids—they were witnesses, after all—and set about finding Antti and their money. They’re still looking, most likely why Moreau is here, because they enlisted him, offering him Antti’s share. They killed Kaarina to punish Antti and, if my guess is right, are now just making foie gras and waiting for this to all play itself out.

Lisbet Söderlund. How does she fit into this and why was she murdered?

Her death wasn’t what Saukko asked for, but was the kind of symbol he sought in order to relinquish his million euros. He and Jesper talked about selling heroin to sedate the black masses. I’m in charge of cleaning up drugs in Helsinki. I proved myself more than capable. Moreau told me the lesson learned is that narcotics are needed but must be controlled. The interior minister told me that he believes men adroit at one task are nearly always adroit at others and gave me an additional task, the skank sheet, hinting at additional responsibilities. He and others believe I’ll find the money. It will disappear. Saukko will never get it back.

I think they all know the pâté peddlers murdered her, and that Antti has the ten million euros. Plus the other promised million in exchange for “a display of dedication to racist policies” makes eleven. This money is to be pooled and divided among various interests. Am I reading too much into this, or are the Legionnaires to have the heroin importation concession, the neo-Nazis the wholesale concession, our immigrant population to be the target consumer market, this money also to be shared? As I’ve learned, the amounts involved in dope are huge, and even small pieces of the pie could make many men rich. And I’m to be Finland’s drug czar, discouraging other narcotics entrepreneurs around the country, as I have in Helsinki? I’m to be a cop in name, but Finland’s narcotics power broker in truth, much as the former Legionnaires are foie gras dabblers in name but heroin kingpins in reality.

It’s so insidious that it’s difficult to conceive, but I believe it entirely possible.

Saukko won’t like it, but the discovery of the children’s bodies rightly goes to Saska. I call him, suggest he come here in a police helicopter, chopper them home and concoct a tale to explain the breakthrough in the case.

The question remains: Where is Antti? I think he’s hiding somewhere, just waiting to be forgotten. We leave so we can be out of the way when Saska makes his fake break in the case, and go back to Saukko’s mansion.

Saukko is so thrilled that the hunt is on again after a year that he doesn’t even gripe about Saska’s involvement. Saukko insists I hunt to the north. I give in and ask him for a map of his foundation properties. After some searching, he produces one.

I also call the interior minister and explain the situation. I ask him if he can make arrangements to use the radio-controlled pilotless planes as during the original search for Antti, to avoid his suspicion should he be in northern Åland. I tell him the type of craft we’re looking for.

Some of the islands have rock shelves or caves on their coasts. Small craft could be hidden there, invisible from above. I suggest the Border Guard send vessels to circle all the islands and ensure Antti hasn’t hidden his boat in such a place.

“No, Inspector,” the interior minister says, “these are not good ideas. They limit our options. The Border Guard would have to arrest Antti. If you were to take him into custody, our options would remain open.”

“Such as?”

“Such as his father is a powerful man and might prefer if his son doesn’t rot in prison, no matter what he’s done. He would be in great debt to us if we made that happen. If you find Antti, call me, and I’ll instruct you as to what’s to be done.”

I hear myself sigh. Corruption has no limits among the powerful, even when it involves murder. My previous self would have expressed outrage. I’ve hidden my emotional stunting through the remembrance of emotions. I notice that my memories of them are fading, growing more distant.

“I want you to go, Inspector, and circle each and every island yourself. If you fail to find him, I’ll consider your suggestion.”

“You understand,” I say, “that this is a wild-goose chase. He would have had to winter there, and it would have taken a great deal of time and preparation for him to do that. The only reason I think it remotely possible is because his father has the means to search to the ends of the earth for him, and this desolate area fills the bill.”

“I understand, and I agree with you. But after all, he also has resources. He could have made a home winter-worthy in secret.”

“Very well,” I say and ring off.

I ask Saukko if I can use his yacht again tomorrow to continue the search, say that it will likely be an overnight trip, and he’s happy to oblige. He wants to come. I suggest that it might be best for all if this was kept strictly police business. If we were to find Antti, his emotions would run high and might lead to something that could impede prosecution. He grudgingly agrees. Finding Antti there truly is only a shot in the dark. He’s abandoned his wife and children, so he wanted out bad. His father has pretty much every resource in the world at his disposal to find Antti. If he really wants to disappear, as I said to the minister, it has to be somewhere at the ends of the earth. It’s a thousand-to-one shot, but northern Åland pretty much qualifies.