Jarkko Sipila - Nothing but the Truth

“And you still want Mari to testify on the witness stand?” asked Joutsamo. The alternative was for Lehtonen to stay in a separate room adjoining the witness room and give her testimony from behind tinted glass.

“Yes. There’s no evidence of any credible threats. A witness who is present in the courtroom is always more believable to the jury.” Muuri looked at Mari. “Your testimony is key to the case because it links Korpi to the crime scene.”

“Do you think he’ll be convicted?” asked Lehtonen. Joutsamo hoped Muuri would say something encouraging.

“I don’t know. That’s for the court to decide.”

No such luck, thought Joutsamo.

“So he might go free?”

“It’s always a possibility,” said Muuri coldly. “Neither of the suspects have said anything to the police during the entire investigation. Today, they’ll spin some tale for the court about how events unfurled. What that tale might be, we don’t yet know.”

Lehtonen fell silent. With a nod, Muuri got up and left.

* * *

TV reporter Sanna Römpötti was seated in the waiting area of the courtroom where Korpi was about to be tried. The long, plainly furnished room had five rows of seating, each composed of five banks of airport-style seating units. Forty-year-old Römpötti was dressed in jeans, sitting with a few other crime reporters from various media outlets. A couple of uniformed officers, white-shirted guards and a few lawyers were also in the room. No photographers were present, since cameras were prohibited in the courtroom. Römpötti’s cameraman was waiting in the courthouse cafeteria.

“Did the prosecutor offer copies of the charges?” Römpötti asked a mustached Ilta-Sanomat newspaper reporter with a fox-pattern tie.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You can get ’em from the bailiff on the first floor once they get started. I can bring some for everyone.”

“Great, thanks,” said Römpötti. The Porvoo Street murder, as it had come to be called in the newsrooms, wasn’t headline material anymore. Nobody from National Public News was even on location. In addition to Römpötti and the fellow from the Ilta-Sanomat , reporters from the Helsingin Sanomat , The Finnish News Bureau and Alibi crime magazine were on site. The usual cast.

Römpötti had been following the case since the beginning. She had done a couple of spots on it then, and as the court date drew nearer, the case began to gather attention again. Much of the interest had to do with Risto Korpi’s background and status in the underworld.

The fledgling conversation hit a lull. Nobody had anything worth saying, not even about last night’s adventures at the downtown bars. Römpötti was tired. In a way, the case seemed fairly routine. She had ordered the case files from the police, which included security camera photographs from the front of the building where the murder occurred. She could easily build her news story based on those, along with interviews from the prosecution and defense. Martin, Korpi’s attorney, was not a well-known lawyer, but Römpötti had already managed to request an interview. That had been fine with Martin, as was often the case with lawyers who liked free publicity. The key points of the case could be easily explained in a minute and a half.

The sleepy tenor of the waiting room was abruptly shattered by a voice over the loudspeaker: “The court calls prosecution versus Korpi and Nyberg.”

Martin and the other lawyer grabbed their thick briefcases, and the reporters let them go in first.

* * *

Mari Lehtonen and Joutsamo were sitting alone in the witness room when a middle-aged, spectacled bailiff cracked the door open and informed them that court was now in session and that he would come for Lehtonen when it was time. There were no loudspeakers in the witness room.

“Thank you,” said Joutsamo with a strained smile.

Lehtonen sat in silence with a pensive expression on her face.

“We won’t…that is… I won’t be coming in. It’ll just be you,” said Joutsamo.

Lehtonen looked hard at her. “Uhh…”

“What is it?”

“Well, I don’t really know about this. I mean…I’ll go, of course. Just got a bad feeling about it.”

“I know,” said Joutsamo, not really sure how to respond. Should she break out the pep talk or just sympathize? Neither option seemed very sensible, nor did quoting legal clauses about mandatory testimony and potential prison terms for perjury.

Lehtonen waited for a response.

“What do you want me to say?” said Joutsamo.

“I guess there’s not much to say. If Korpi gets acquitted, he’ll be out on the street.”

“True, but we probably won’t have a verdict today. Usually takes a couple weeks. Besides that, we’re in good hands with Muuri. I’m very confident in the case we’ve built.”

Joutsamo too had begun having doubts after their talk with Muuri. It was clear that Nyberg would try to shoulder the blame-he’d do everything he could to whitewash Korpi. By now, the defense knew exactly what evidence the prosecution would present, and they could simply tailor their testimony to that.

* * *

District Prosecutor Muuri clicked onto the final slide of her presentation. The heading read “Summary.” All eyes in the courtroom, some twenty or so people, were on the screen projected over the judge’s bench. Each of the judge and three jurors had their own private screens in front of them. Judge Tuomela, presiding, was seated in the middle.

At least almost all eyes were on the screen, for the two guards next to Korpi’s table kept their eyes firmly on him, as did the two assigned to Nyberg.

Muuri had read the charges, which Korpi and Nyberg had denied. Muuri then took about half an

hour to make her opening statements, which were just now coming to a close.

The high-security courtroom was about seventy-five feet long and forty-five wide, exceptionally large for a courtroom at the Helsinki district court. The wainscotted walls and wooden floors were stained light brown, and the room was bounded by four crested columns. All in all, there were forty seats arranged around six tables, in two rows of three, for defendants, plaintiffs and lawyers.

For security, or at least supposedly so, the room had no windows to the outside. A four-foot-tall iron railing stood between the defendants’ table and the bench, as did an identical one between the defendants and the spectators. Behind the bench also stood a door through which the judge and jurors could make a quick exit if needed. On the other wall, to the judge’s left, were two blackened windows. From behind one of them, security personnel could survey the crowd without drawing attention to themselves. The other was reserved for witnesses who chose to remain anonymous.

Muuri’s opening statement was quite brief. Forensic evidence indicated that Nyberg had been in the apartment and shot Tomi Salmela. She contended that a turf battle between competing drug dealers had been the motive, and mentioned that a narcotics officer would be testifying more on that later.

She also emphasized that the murder was carried out in collaboration with Korpi.

“As we later found from file fragments on his computer, Korpi has been running a drug-dealing operation. A narcotics officer will be testifying as to the victim’s role in a competing drug ring. As we all know, competition in the illicit drug trade is fierce, and gangs will stop at nothing to curtail competition, case in point,” said Muuri, gesturing toward the screen. “For committing the murder, Nyberg would certainly gain status in Korpi’s organization. Moreover, we know that Korpi is Nyberg’s godfather, also indicating a close relationship between the two men. Clearly, the two are co-conspirators.”