Free Nothing but the Truth by Jarkko Sipila Page B

lights on the artificial turf at Brahe Field. The 3T streetcar rattled past, but otherwise, traffic was light.
    Mari had been watching TV, but something had told her she should pick up Laura from theater rehearsals herself tonight. She couldn’t quite place what it was, she just went. Probably just on edge after her visit to the police station.
    Laura had been surprised when her mother appeared.
    “Wanna stop for tea somewhere?” she asked hopefully.
    Mari didn’t hear the question. Her eyes were fixed on a couple of men in leather jackets approaching from the opposite direction. Now about fifty yards off, the men said nothing to one another, just stared at mother and daughter as they drew nearer.
    Mari felt her pulse race as she considered her options. Should they cross the street?
    “Did you hear what I said?” asked Laura, annoyed. “I wanted to tell you about the production—we got the framework ready today.”
    The gap had closed to thirty yards, close enough to make out the men’s faces. The one on the left had a long ugly scar across his cheek. The other kept his hands in his jacket pockets.
    The men were coming straight for them, and fast. Mari pulled her daughter to the edge of the sidewalk.
    “What’s this?”
    She didn’t answer. Ten yards now, and the men were looking straight at them. It occurred to Mari that she could jab them with the umbrella, and maybe shout for help from the soccer players.
    They came within arm’s reach when one of them turned to Mari and said, “Boo!”
    Both roared with laughter as they continued on their way.
    Idiots, she thought, suppressing her urge to cuss them out. She glanced back. The men were still walking.
    She took a deep breath.
    “What was that about?” asked Laura.
    “I dunno. Couple idiots.”
    “Can we get some tea somewhere?”
    Before Mari had the chance to respond, her cell phone rang. The caller was Anna Joutsamo.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    TUESDAY,
    SEPTEMBER 19

 
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER 9
    TUESDAY, 10:30 A.M.
    PASILA POLICE HEADQUARTERS
     
    Mari Lehtonen was standing behind a mirrored window. On the opposite side stood six men with shaved heads.
    “Number one, could you please step forward to the line,” said Lieutenant Ariel Kafka into the intercom. Takamäki had asked his colleague to conduct the proceedings. The protocol for police lineups explicitly stated that the officer conducting the proceedings must not know which of the subjects was the actual suspect.
    Takamäki wasn’t sure if Kafka knew Korpi. He certainly might, but he hadn’t said anything, and his demeanor was perfectly impartial.
    Number one stepped forward and Lehtonen shook her head.
    Joutsamo was also in the room taking notes. Two video cameras were capturing the event, one trained on the lineup, the other on Lehtonen and Kafka.
    “Thank you. Number two, please.”
    Lehtonen shook her head again, and did the same over the next minute as numbers three, four and five stepped up to the line.
    “Number six, please,” said Kafka.

Lehtonen nodded. “That’s the one. He was in
    the car.”
    Number six was Korpi.
    “Are you sure?”
    “Absolutely positive.”
    Kafka returned to the microphone. “Thank you for participating. Please exit through the door on
    your left.”
    On the other side of the glass, the men filed out slowly.
    Joutsamo finished off the last few words of her notes and Kafka stopped the video cameras.
    “Alright. That’s that,” said Joutsamo, as she offered Lehtonen her hand. “Thanks again.”
    “What happens now?”
    “We’ll finish up the investigation and then send the case to the prosecutor. As I said before, you’ll receive a summons from the court informing you of the date and time of the trial.”
    “That’s it?”
    “Yep. In court, the prosecutor will ask you a few questions and possibly show this video.”
    Kafka handed the tape to Joutsamo as he left. “No need for me anymore?”
    “Nah. I’ll just type up my notes and bring