Jarkko Sipila - Nothing but the Truth

“And this is supposed to be true?” said Joutsamo.

“Didn’t I already say so? Well, the cat was just barely alive and kind of twitching, so the guys didn’t know what to do. They couldn’t really shoot it, but they didn’t want to let it suffer, either. So one of them suggests that they get back in the car and drive over it a few more times and that’s what they did. The cat was pretty much smeared into the pavement when one of them noticed a little granny-the cat’s owner-standing behind the bushes with her eyes like saucers.”

“Ohhh, man,” Joutsamo groaned while the others laughed.

Takamäki’s phone signaled a text message.

“Couldn’t be the wife yet,” laughed Kannas, but the others grew quiet with anticipation.

Takamäki dug his phone out of his belt holder and looked at the screen. His face was impassive. “From Muuri. Better read this out loud: Two life sentences. Unanimous decision. Lehtonen’s testimony was key. Puts Korpi at the scene. Well done! ”

Suhonen cracked a smile and raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”

The others joined in.

As he set down his glass, Suhonen took out his own phone and sent news of the verdict to Tomi Salmela’s father.

* * *

Counselor Martin and Risto Korpi were in a tiny holding cell in the basement of the courthouse. The room had space for a table and two chairs. Korpi couldn’t bring himself to sit, just paced around the cramped room like a caged animal: three steps one way, three steps back.

Martin, on the other hand, sat at the table watching his client. He couldn’t help but feel afraid.

“Fucking idiot,” Korpi hissed. “I trusted you. You said you’d take care of this.”

“I never promised anything.”

Korpi stopped and stared his lawyer in the eyes.

“Really? Think again.”

“These are unpredictable cases. With your record it shouldn’t…”

“Kiss my ass. You get to walk outta here and I get to walk into a cell. Damnit. How can you be so fucking stupid?”

Martin wanted to ask him how he could have been so stupid as to be waiting outside while his partner offed some minor dealer. But he didn’t dare. He wasn’t sure if Korpi had actually known about Nyberg’s plan to shoot Salmela. According to the verdict, however, there was no doubt that Salmela’s

death was an execution. Nyberg’s self-defense claim had been completely quashed in court.

“Maybe I oughta tell the cops about your nose candy…”

Martin cut in, “Keep it down! Might be a mike.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Korpi sneered. “A client can’t even have a private conversation with his lawyer anymore.”

“I’d think you’d know there’s no such thing.”

“Fuck,” Korpi kept ranting. He took his seat and tried to calm down.

“The appeals court could…”

“Fuck the appeals court. How is this possible? Hell, I had it all figured out-don’t talk about nothin’ on the phone. Everything gets taken care of off the grid…”

“Are you making a confession?” asked Martin. In all actuality, he wished that were the case, as then he could invoke ethics rules to get out of representing Korpi. That actually sounded like a pretty good outcome.

“Of course not. I didn’t know anything about it-you know that. Do you think I’d have been in that car if I’d known? Not a chance in hell. Son of a bitch! What reason would I have to lie to you? And I sure don’t trust the appeals court to change anything. They’re all in bed with the pigs one way or another.”

Martin started to say something but Korpi shut him up with a raised hand. “Don’t say a word. Not a word. Just listen. I don’t understand how it’s possible some bitch with a photographic memory would just happen to see me and then go and call the cops. That’s some bad fucking karma. Shit, I can’t think straight with fifteen years hanging over me, but I’ll figure it out. I know from experience you never sleep the first night after a sentencing, but that doesn’t matter right now. I’ll get things straightened out.”

Korpi fell silent, and Martin was quiet too.

Korpi spoke up again, “Not sure if they’re gonna move me to Helsinki Prison today or tomorrow, but you’re gonna come meet me in the afternoon. By then my head’ll be clear and I’ll tell you what to do.”

“I can’t…”

Korpi narrowed his eyes. “You’ll do what I tell you. Or you’re the one I’ll be thinking about tonight.”

WEDNESDAY, 10:05 P.M.

MARI LEHTONEN’S APARTMENT

Mari Lehtonen was at home watching the evening news with her daughter, Laura, at her side. Mari had opened a bottle of wine, which had now dwindled to about a third. The broadcast had begun with news from the Middle East, which had been grim for so many years that it wasn’t interesting anymore. Next up had been some political story, but that too, at least tonight, held no charm.

The news anchor continued, “Tonight Helsinki District Court sentenced two men to life in prison for a drug-related murder that took place in September. According to the court, the motive for the murder was a turf battle between competing drug rings.”

Laura glanced at her mother, who nodded.

The screen cut abruptly to reporter Sanna Römpötti, standing in front of the courthouse in the waning light. Römpötti proclaimed that the court’s swift verdict was only as extraordinary as the murder: two dealers, who had been previously convicted of drug crimes, assassinated a competing dealer. It was yet another example of the ever more violent nature of organized crime.

Some photographs of the crime scene appeared on the screen and Römpötti described the murder. As the surveillance photograph of the Mazda in front of the apartment building appeared on screen, the reporter explained, “A crucial piece of evidence in the case came when a Helsinki woman testified to having seen this car, as well as the driver’s face, at the time of the murder. In court the witness identified gang leader Risto Korpi as the man who was waiting in the car, while Korpi’s henchman Esa Nyberg went into the building and shot a competing cocaine dealer to prevent him from taking business from Korpi’s organization.”

More crime scene photographs appeared on the screen. “Korpi denied allegations in court that he had been at the scene, and that he had given Nyberg the order to kill. But since a reliable witness had testified that Korpi was in the car, and Nyberg was a member of a gang led by Korpi, the court found him guilty of murder as well.”

Mari’s phone alerted her to a text message, but she ignored it. The broadcast moved on to the backstory and highlighted the recent spate of violence among criminals. The reporter concluded that the game was clearly getting more ruthless, and would continue to do so.

When the news anchor reappeared and shifted to a story on water quality, Lehtonen picked up her phone. The text had come from her boss, Essi Saari, and it was brief: “Nicely done!”

Lehtonen had time to take another sip of wine before the phone rang. The call was from an unknown number. Mari wondered if she should answer or not, but since the police also used blocked numbers, she decided to answer.

“Hello?”

“Yeah…so I hear you got a nice new black suit and red necklace,” said a man’s voice. Mari recognized her ex-husband all too well.

“What?” she managed to say as she stood up.

“Where’d you get the money for them fancy new clothes and jewelry?”

Mari stole into the bathroom and closed the door so Laura wouldn’t hear. “What are you talking about? You’re drunk.”

“Fuck yeah, I’m drunk, but I still got ears. I hear you been hanging out with the cops in a fancy new suit and necklace puttin’ an innocent man in jail.”