Jarkko Sipila - Nothing but the Truth

The stench of smoke hit him at the door, even with only a third of the seats in the pub occupied. A few tables boasted groups of three and four, while others were occupied by just one man and a beer. Suhonen’s eyes quickly took in the room. The hands on the clock showed half past three.

Teittinen was sitting alone at a corner table reading a daily. Nothing on Suhonen’s face betrayed the fact that he had found his quarry.

The bartender stood behind the bar with an inquiring look.

“Coffee,” said Suhonen.

The man didn’t say anything, just took out a cup and filled it. “One euro.”

Suhonen put the coin on the bar and took a sip. Not bad. Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters” was playing softly in the background.

Teittinen had draped his dark, hooded jacket over the neighboring chair. He looked larger than Suhonen had expected, and was wearing jeans and a gray, paint-stained sweatshirt. His hair fell over his forehead in the same way it had in the mug shots. His skin was strikingly bad.

Suhonen took his coffee and strode over to Teittinen’s table. “Looks like you got room,” said Suhonen as he pulled up a wooden chair. The table was riddled with cigarette burns.

Teittinen sized up Suhonen. “Room over there too,” he growled, but Suhonen had already sat down.

Suhonen remained silent and Teittinen started to get edgy. “What the hell?”

Suhonen just took a sip of coffee.

“What, you wanna piece of me? Here I am minding my own business and you come butting in. Look around, asshole. Plenty of seats to be had.”

“I’m not looking for a fight.”

“Well you’re damn sure gonna get one if you don’t start explaining.”

Suhonen calmly drank his coffee. “Listen, Teittinen,” he began, then paused briefly. Mentioning the man’s name seemed to have the desired effect, as he flinched. Suhonen went on, “You’ve been harassing a friend of mine.”

“How you know my name?”

“I know your shoe size, too.”

That was no lie. He had gotten it from one of the case files, in which Teittinen had kicked a victim in

a fight.

“Size ten.”

“What the fuck? What is this?”

“Listen to me when I’m talking to you. I just said you’ve been harassing a friend of mine.”

Teittinen had apparently come to the conclusion that he shouldn’t mess with Suhonen. This was the kind of guy who could be packing, and he seemed to be in good enough shape. Teittinen didn’t even have a knife. “What friend?”

“Mari Lehtonen.”

“What, you banging that bitch?”

“No, just a friend.”

“And who are you?”

“I already told you-I’m her friend. Use your ears, idiot.” Suhonen clearly had the upper hand, and was taking full advantage of it.

“Yeah, right. So what did I supposedly do?”

“You know.”

Teittinen wrinkled up his brows. “I called her once and bitched her out for talking to the fucking cops about that shooting, and then taking it to court.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, so? You don’t talk to the cops…everyone knows that.”

“What were you doing at her apartment earlier this afternoon?”

Teittinen looked genuinely confused. “Phh. Been drinking here all day.”

“Bullshit.”

“What are you a cop? This some kinda interrogation?”

“Fuck it,” Suhonen grumbled. “You want to go outside or in here? Fists or knives?”

Teittinen sized him up once more and changed his tack. “Marko!” he shouted at the bartender. “Ain’t I been here since noon?”

Marko appraised the situation at the corner table and shouted back, “Yup, been here all day.”

Suhonen was confused. He didn’t put much in the bartender’s claim, but Teittinen’s look of genuine surprise was perplexing.

“There you have it,” said Teittinen in a triumphant voice. “Shit, tough guy, check your facts before you come hassling an innocent man.”

Suhonen wondered who had glued the lock. “Whatever the case, you stay away from Lehtonen,” he said.

“Fine. I’ve had more of her stinky ass than I care to remember.”

Suhonen stood up and left, leaving the coffee cup on the table.

“Asshole,” Teittinen stammered just loud enough for Suhonen to hear.

* * *

The corridors of the VCU were quiet tonight.

“Care for some coffee?” asked Takamäki.

Suhonen shook his head.

“Well, I’ll skip it too, then.”

The detectives were sitting in Takamäki’s office. Outside the window, all was dark, save for the yellow glow of the street lights. The temperature had dipped to ten degrees Fahrenheit, and a light snow was drifting down from the skies.

“If it wasn’t Teittinen, who was it?” said Takamäki.

“Well, he confessed to the drunken phone call, so why would he deny the glue job? It was just a little bullying.”

Takamäki went on, “Think it was one of Korpi’s guys?”

“That was my first thought.”

“But why now that the trial is over? You’d think the point of any harassment would be to scare the witness out of appearing in court.”

“It’s possible that Lehtonen has another enemy,” said Suhonen. “Or maybe her daughter’s friends were just playing a prank.”

Takamäki thought for a moment. “What do you think we should do?”

“Well, a little glue in a lock is a pretty innocent thing. And since we have no idea who did it, it’s all guesswork anyway. No point in starting anything.”

“Agreed. Korpi wouldn’t be using a glue bottle for his payback.”

“So we should just lay low?”

“Yeah. But let’s keep tabs on it,” said Takamäki.

“You want me to fill Joutsamo in?”

“No need. I’ll tell her tomorrow when she gets in. Let her have at least a half-day off.”

* * *

Laura Lehtonen was walking alone along Western Brahe Street toward home. Her face stung in the frigid air and she pulled her wool hat further down over her ears. The red of her scarf and parka was carefully matched with that of her hat. The snow creaked beneath her boots.

It was just past seven o’clock and her theater feedback session had just ended. The director had praised Laura’s performance, hence her buoyant mood. The director had also mentioned a spring project, one much more demanding than the current one. Laura would play one of the main characters.

Skaters flocked on the ice rink. Laura hoped to go skating someday soon with her best friend, Mira.

Her thoughts turned to school. Her homework was done, but she still had to study for tomorrow’s English test. Mom had said she could stay in theater as long as she kept her grades up. Her thoughts returned to theater. On Saturday, her mother was taking her to see the new musical at the Helsinki City Theater, for which they had bought tickets back in August.

The glue thing had been weird, as was Mom’s court appearance. But they had talked it over enough that neither incident bothered her anymore. The director’s positive feedback on her performance made her feel like skipping.

She didn’t notice the dark-colored car until it was nearly upon her. It slowed just abreast of her and kept pace. She glanced over, unable to tell whether anyone but the driver was inside.

Laura felt panicked and she quickened her gait. The car did the same. “Laura,” said a man’s voice. “Stop. It’s the police.”

Laura thought for a moment before stopping. The car stopped too and the driver’s window rolled down. A hand emerged with an envelope.

“I was bringing this to your mother,” said the voice. “Could you please take it to her?”

Laura stepped closer to the car and took the envelope. On the front, the words MARI LEHTONEN were scrawled in marker.