Free Darling by Jarkko Sipila Page B

empathy in her tone.
    “Alright , I guess, no complaints. And if I had any, it wouldn’t do any good, would it?” Korpivaara said. He figured that’s how a murder suspect was supposed to talk. Not show any weakness.
    The stone-faced guard, who was as big as a hous e, stared straight ahead, expressionless. Korpivaara thought the guard was probably dreaming of him making a sudden move just to get a chance to tackle him.
    “I have a few questions,” said the woman in a gray sweater and blue jeans.
    “What’s your name?” Korpivaara asked.
    She didn’t laugh, but stated matter-of-factly, “Anna Joutsamo.”
    “Okay. My memory is spotty.”
    “Do you remember why you’re here?”
    The woman’s tone was cooler than before. Korpivaara nodded.
    “Because of Darling… I mean Laura. Something happened to her…” Korpivaara tried to find the words, but couldn’t. Finally he said, “Like something bad.”
    “She was found dead in her apartment,” the woman said.
    “That’s pretty bad,” Korpivaara smirked, and ran his fingers through his messy hair. The sergeant wasn’t amused.
    “Yeah, I have a few questions about that.”
    Korpivaara shrugged. The movement sent a sharp pain through his head. Apparently he’d had quite a few beers.
    “ Shoot,” he said.
    “Not here,” she said. “Let’s go into the other room.”
    “Fine with me.”
    She turned to the guard and asked, “Did they bring him breakfast yet?”
    The guard shook his head.
    “Alright, we’ll talk after you’ve had your oatmeal and coffee.”
    “No fresh-squeezed juice and bacon omelet?”
    “Doubt that’s on the menu,” the woman said, and Korpivaara sensed the empathy was back. “But you’ll get your oatmeal and coffee before the others.”
     
    * * *
     
    Twenty minutes later Joutsamo and Korpivaara were sitting in the drab interrogation room.
    Joutsamo sat near the door. She could smell the mixture of coffee and day-old booze on the man’s breath. The guard had administered a Breathalyzer test and Korpivaara’s blood alcohol content was now low enough so they could conduct the formal interrogation. The man’s hair was sticking up, his cheeks were flushed, and his green coveralls were a size too big.
    “I take it you didn’t sleep very well,” Joutsamo began.
    Korpivaara shrugged and said, “The mattress could be a bit thicker.”
    “Alright . Well, here’s the situation. Yesterday you asked for an attorney. She’ll be here this afternoon to see you, but we can start now, if you’d like. Is that okay?”
    “Guess so.”
    Joutsamo was pleased. She wanted to hold the first interrogation as soon as possible. This would also affect how the other suspects would be treated. Korpivaara would be arrested no matter what, but as for the rest of the Alamo gang, she wasn’t sure.
    Joutsamo told Korpivaara she was starting the recording and pressed the button. She glanced at her watch and stated the time: 9:50 A.M. She read aloud Korpivaara’s whole name, date of birth, and address. She stated that the procedure was to inform the suspect of his standing in the preliminary interview and what he had been detained for.
    Joutsamo looked Korpivaara square in the eye and said, “You are a suspect in the murder of Laura Vatanen that took place yesterday. Do you understand?”
    “Yes.”
    “You’ve been informed that you have the right to an attorney. But you don’t deem it necessary to have one for this interrogation?”
    “That’s right, I don’t need an attorney,” Korpivaara replied. He recalled asking for one yesterday, but he had changed his mind. He was happy to talk now.
    “So let’s begin,” Joutsamo said.
    She had conducted hundreds of interrogations during her police career. The goal was straightforward: to find out what had happened and who had done what—simply to find out the truth.
    “What can you tell me about the death of Laura Vatanen?”
    It was an open question. Joutsamo didn’t want to ask him directly