Allan Martin - Death in Tallinn

As the driver got in, Hallmets said to Kadakas, “Before we go to the Ministry, I’d like to see the spot where Chief Inspector Vaher was found.”

“Colonel Reinart’s orders were to go straight to the Ministry, Sir.”

“I’m adjusting them slightly.”

Kadakas opened his mouth to repeat his orders, then, as he glanced into Hallmets’ grey eyes, closed it again. “Yes, Sir, of course.”

“So it’s the kiosk, then?” said the driver, without turning his head.

“Thank you,” said Hallmets.

They were there in four minutes. The body had been removed and the kiosk was now open again for business. And plenty of it. Word had got around.

Hallmets got out of the car and looked closely at the little building, then up at the cliff brooding over them, and the railings of the viewpoint at the top. He walked around the kiosk, then peered at the ground between it and the base of the cliff. Twice he knelt down and poked at something. Then he came back to the car.

As they moved off again, Kadakas asked him, “Find anything, Sir?”

“Maybe,” he answered, “We’ll see. How come everyone knows what’s happened here?”

Kadakas seemed unsure what to say.

“In the paper,” said the driver, and, with his left hand on the wheel, passed back with his right a copy of Pealinna Uudised. “Special edition. Came out just after eleven. Quick work, eh?”

It was on the front page: ‘ Ghastly Discovery: Senior Police Officer impaled. ’ It described how kiosk owner Kaarel Rebane had been shocked to find a dead man on top of his workplace. The scene was described in graphic detail, and there was a grainy photograph of the dead man’s face, staring sightless down from the kiosk roof. Next came a description of Vaher and his methods: he was described as ‘ crude, perhaps inelegant, but successful and popular ’. ‘ Vaher always got his man ,’ said the writer, ‘ and was rightly feared by the criminal community. Did one of its members gain his sadistic revenge? ’

Hallmets put the paper back onto the front seat, next to the driver. “Thanks,” he said.

They passed along Nunne Street, turned left into Pikk Street, and left again near the bottom to pull up outside the grey stone frontage of the Interior Ministry. Beyond it rose the whitewashed wall of St. Olav’s Church, its spire once the tallest in Europe. But that was in a different world.

Colonel Reinart’s office was on the third floor, overlooking the lane between the ministry and Police Headquarters next door. The colonel, a tall man with brown hair that matched his eyes, a well-tended moustache, and an immaculate uniform, shook hands with Hallmets. “I remember you from the war,” he began, “You distinguished yourself at Võnnu, when we chased the Germans out of Latvia. I was on General Põdder’s staff. Sad that the old boy died last year. Didn’t the Latvians give you a medal? More to the point, why didn’t you stay with the army after the war.”

“I’ve never really been a fan of uniforms. Or of doing what other people tell me.”

“But you do that now. Give orders to others.”

“It’s not like the army. My people can argue with me. It’s called teamwork.”

The colonel smiled thinly, and ordered the lieutenant to bring coffee. He waved Hallmets to an upright armchair, upholstered in leather, and sat himself behind his large desk. He pointed to an ornately-carved wooden cigarette box on the desk. “Cigarette?”

“No thanks. Spoils the taste of good coffee.”

“Hmm.” The colonel was about to take one, but checked himself. “How much do you know about this Vaher business?”

“Only what I read in the Pealinna Uudised .”

“That’s as much as we know at the moment.”

“I doubt that,” said Hallmets, “Otherwise you wouldn’t have called me so quickly. I’m sure there are plenty of good detectives still alive next door.”

The colonel glanced out of the window at the building across the lane. Hallmets followed his gaze. At a window opposite, a uniformed police officer was grimly punching the keys of a typewriter, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

“The papers got to the body before the police had even arrived,” replied the colonel, “This investigation will be very public. I’m sure you’re aware of Vaher’s reputation for, how can I put it, effectiveness.”

“I’m glad you didn’t say justice.”

Reinart frowned. “We were quite aware of his methods. But the people he put into the frame usually seemed to be those who deserved it. And he was very popular within the force here. There are lots of officers who’d happily round up all the usual suspects and shoot the lot of them in revenge. That’s why we want a proper investigation, so that the police are seen to be professional.”

“That’s very noble, but I’m not convinced,” said Hallmets, “There’s more.”

“That’s all you need to know, Chief Inspector.”

Hallmets stood up slowly. “What I need to know, Colonel,” he said quietly, “is whatever will help me solve the case, which is what I assume you want me to do. If I don’t have access to everything, I don’t do it. I can find my own way back to the railway station, thank you.”

“Please, Härra Hallmets, do sit down. I can see that you’re indeed as others have described you. Awkward, insubordinate, but also courageous and determined. As you were at Võnnu in ‘19. If you’d just followed orders, that breakthrough would never have happened. All right, I’ll tell you what I know.”

Hallmets sat down again. “Let’s be clear about this, Colonel. I’m willing to lead this investigation, because I too think that justice needs to be seen to be done. But if I suspect that any information is being withheld from me, I will walk away. You have my word on that. And it’s obvious there’s something more, otherwise I’d be talking to Captain Lind next door at Police HQ, and not you here at the Ministry.”

The colonel smiled. “Yes, I suppose so.” He studied his immaculately-groomed finger nails for a moment. “Well, then, I should explain that there may be a political dimension to this.”

“You don’t say.”

“As you know, our democracy is at the moment somewhat fragile. The parties in parliament are constantly falling out, and there’s a new government every few months.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“You know what I mean. People are losing faith in the politicians. They think they’re too interested in their own careers, and aren’t dealing with the problems. Especially the economic ones. I fear more and more people are looking for, shall we say, an extreme solution.”

“As in Germany.”

“Many other countries too. And there’s a movement of that sort here too.”

“Are you talking about the Vaps Movement? The veterans’ organisation? They’re hardly Nazis. I’ll admit I don’t share some of their views, but it’s perfectly reasonable to press the government to make more farms available for veterans.”

Reinart picked up an expensive-looking fountain pen, scrutinised it carefully, put it down again. “In the last year or so they’ve changed. They’ve become explicitly political, and they’re admitting anyone who agrees with their politics, even if they’re not veterans. And they’ve started following some of the habits of other right-wing groups in Europe. Uniforms, armbands, lately even the so-called Roman salute. This could be a gift for them. Proof that democracy leads to chaos. They want a referendum to change the constitution, create a powerful president who can do without parliament.”

“A bit like Hitler?”

“And that’s another complication. Our German community. Disgruntled landowners who lost out with the Land Reform. Businessmen who admire Hitler. Plenty of nostalgia for the good old days when they ruled the roost. They could cause trouble too. That’s why we need to tie this up quickly, and the investigation has to be absolutely above board. And led by a top investigator with an exemplary war record and a strong belief in democracy.”