Jarkko Sipila - Nothing but the Truth

“Taking all of the evidence into account, I intend to show before this court, beyond any reasonable doubt, that Korpi planned Salmela’s murder, and that Nyberg carried it out. Despite the fact that Korpi was in the car at the moment of the murder, he is every bit as culpable for Salmela’s violent death as Nyberg is.”

Muuri shut off the projector.

“All right,” said Judge Tuomela, a stern-faced, fifty-something man in a gray suit. “Nyberg’s defense, please.”

Counsel Hanna Aaltonen was wearing a black pantsuit. When trying a homicide, an unspoken code among lawyers demanded a certain reverence be reflected in their dress. The brunette’s black pantsuit made her seem much older than her thirty-five years, though this impression was partly due to the tightly wound bun she wore her hair in.

Nyberg sat quietly next to Aaltonen in a dark green T-shirt and camouflage pants. A fucking military tribunal, he thought.

“My client pleads not guilty to the charge of murder, but admits to aggravated assault and manslaughter in excess of justifiable self defense. My client did in fact go to the apartment that Sunday, not with the intention of murdering Salmela, but to collect four hundred euros for a television that Salmela had purchased. My client will comment more about this later on the witness stand. Salmela did not wish to pay the sum and threatened my client with a gun, leaving my client no other alternative than to draw his own weapon and attempt to frighten Salmela by shooting him in the foot. Unfortunately, in the confusion, the shot didn’t hit him in the leg, but elsewhere. This was an accidental shooting, which regrettably resulted in Salmela’s death. There was no motive related to drugs, and Risto Korpi was not involved in any way. That is our opening statement-we will provide further details when my client takes the stand.”

Muuri asked for permission to speak, which Judge Tuomela granted.

“Your client hasn’t said a word in any police interview. If it happened as you claim, then why is that?”

“He has his reasons.”

“And what are those?” Muuri persisted, pleased that the defense had taken the bait.

“He doesn’t trust the police to conduct an objective investigation.”

“And why not?”

Judge Tuomela interjected. “Prosecution, do you have anything else?”

Muuri kept her gaze fixed on Nyberg and Aaltonen.

“Just one small thing for now. Counsel Aaltonen neglected to mention whether, according to her client, Korpi was in the vehicle or not. Was he?”

Aaltonen turned to Nyberg, who shook his head. They whispered briefly. “We’ll touch on this when my client takes the stand, but for now I can say that according to my client, Korpi was not in the vehicle.”

“Who was, then?” asked Muuri. The value of Lehtonen’s testimony was going up by the second. But Korpi’s defense would try to derail it by any means necessary.

“My client does not wish to answer that.”

No surprise there, thought Muuri, but she kept her thoughts to herself. The modern courts appreciated more temperate prosecutors-the days of aggressive, unrestrained badgering were over. Judge Tuomela turned to Korpi’s counsel. “Defense, go ahead.”

Martin took a last glance at the papers on the table where he had outlined his relevant points. Korpi sat next to him in a pale gray sweater, trying to appear calm. With little effect-he seemed overly calm.

“My client denies all charges. He was not in the vehicle, as the prosecutor mistakenly claims. Vague observations of one individual witness during a random encounter are patently unreliable. Korpi does indeed know Nyberg, but he has no knowledge whatsoever of this incident. As Nyberg said, he shot at Salmela in self-defense, which my client had nothing to do with. Neither has my client had anything to do with drugs since his last conviction. I’d also like to point out on my client’s behalf that he has no obligation to prove his own innocence. The points outlined by the prosecutor in this court are pure speculation and based on assumptions rather than reality.”

WEDNESDAY, 10:35 A.M.

SELLO SHOPPING CENTER, ESPOO

Christmas Eve was still eleven days off, but Takamäki had decided to get his shopping done early for once, and at a time of day when the malls weren’t teeming with crowds. The idea had struck him after leaving the Espoo police station nearby, and with nothing pressing at work, it seemed a good time for a shopping excursion. No problem, he had thought.

But once inside the atrium of the Sello Shopping Center, he was struck by the true dearth of his ideas. What to get his wife? The boys? Joutsamo? Suhonen? Takamäki felt like turning around and taking the elevator back to the parking ramp. Surely there would be time for this later. But he forced himself to take a step forward, and then another. Clothes? Hockey gear? Books? What would they want? Damn, maybe even this operation required a plan, thought Takamäki as he spotted a coffee shop. Maybe he could think about it over a cup of coffee. And maybe a list would help? Wandering aimlessly through the mall was hardly his idea of enjoyment.

The lieutenant sat at a table drinking his coffee from a paper cup. A few other customers were scattered about.

He had thought to buy a paper at the register, but decided to leave it on the rack. Time to concentrate on gifts, not tabloid news. All the headlines were about the antics of a member of parliament on the ferry to Tallinn. Takamäki wondered if it was all a publicity stunt for the upcoming elections. Not likely, though someone had once claimed that any publicity is good publicity when it came to politics.

Christmas presents, he reminded himself…still at a loss. Maybe some jewelry or a book for Kaarina. Something like that. And the boys? Some books, video games or sports stuff? Toys? Maybe…but what kind?

Takamäki finished off the last of his coffee. Christmas shopping was not his cup of tea. He decided to return to the station, knowing he’d come to regret it. The shopping wouldn’t do itself. Urgency was his best motivator, and with eleven days to go, that was still lacking.

He decided to drop the car off at home, which was within walking distance of the Leppävaara train station. His team would be gathering for an informal Christmas party that evening, and a few beers were probably in the cards. This way, he could head straight to the restaurant from work.

* * *

It was almost eleven-thirty, and Joutsamo and Lehtonen were sitting in the witness room quietly reading. Joutsamo had the memoirs of a foreign legion soldier and Lehtonen a translation of a novel based on the lives of a group of New York women. An hour earlier, the bailiff had stopped by during a

recess to tell them that several witnesses had already testified.

Joutsamo knew that a financial crimes officer had testified on the significance of the fragments of data found on Korpi’s computer. Another officer had testified on the crime scene. Among the prosecutor’s witnesses was a narcotics officer who had investigated Korpi’s cocaine business based on the initial intelligence that Suhonen had gathered. An organized crime specialist from the National Bureau of Investigation had also made the list.

The door opened and both women startled. “It’s time,” said the bailiff. “The court calls Mari Lehtonen. Room 001.”

“Alright, then,” said Joutsamo as Lehtonen rose. “Just try to relax.”

“Yeah. I will.”

Joutsamo was glad to see a display of resoluteness from Mari. The sergeant remained seated as Mari followed the bailiff out.

At the end of a short hallway they came to the door leading into the courtroom. The bailiff opened it and let Lehtonen inside. She felt confused, lingering at a small wooden table by the door, her eyes scanning the courtroom. In addition to the judge, there were three jurors behind the bench. Prosecutor Muuri stood straight ahead, about thirty feet away, while the defendants and a group of guards sat behind the iron railing. A crowd of onlookers were seated in the back of the room.