Free Vengeance by Jarkko Sipila

anything?”
         “I tried to soften her up, but she’s clammed up pretty tight. We’ll see what happens today. You want to be in the room or watch behind the glass?”
         “Behind the glass is fine.”
         The preparations took another ten minutes. Toukola directed Suhonen into a room off a long hallway, and continued to the next door.
         Through the mirrored glass, Suhonen watched Marju Mägi adjust her green coveralls. Her dark hair was tousled and her delicate face seemed paler. Her first night in the brig didn’t look like it had gone well.
         Behind her, the jailer kept watch.
         Toukola stepped in and took a seat opposite her at a gray table with a computer.
         Suhonen heard the voice through the microphone. “Good morning,” said Toukola.
         She glanced up, but said nothing.
         The guard left.
         “How are you?” He went on.
         She shrugged. Good, Suhonen thought. At least it was a reaction. In recent years, so-called “mummy-interviews” had become more common. In these, the suspect would not even agree to leave the cell, so the guards had to roll them out in a wheelchair. During the questioning, the mummy wouldn’t respond to anything, not one word. Sometimes, they wouldn’t even open their eyes.
         “Just want to confirm your identification. Marju Mägi?”
         “Yeah.”
         Toukola went on with her date of birth, address and other information needed for the record, and was also sure to remind her that the interview would be recorded. Then he informed her of what crime she was suspected and asked if she would need a lawyer present. She didn’t—in Northern Europe, requesting a lawyer for the first interview was rare, and some thought of it as an admission of guilt. The woman had suddenly learned to speak fluent Finnish.
         “Tell me about the incident,” Toukola began.
         To Suhonen, Toukola’s tone of voice seemed tired, almost bored. Was it fatigue or strategy, he wondered.
         Marju kept her eyes on the table. “Not much to say. I came from Tallinn by ship. The police claimed I was a thief, took me into the van, and found the packets.”
         Good, Suhonen thought.
         “The amphetamines were in your possession?”
         “What, you stupid? If the stuff was taped to my side, doesn’t that mean it was in my possession?”
         Toukola was quiet for a moment. “Yes, you’re right. It was a stupid question.”
         Suhonen didn’t think it was stupid, and of course, neither did Toukola. She had just confessed to possessing twenty ounces of amphetamines. That would earn her two-and-a-half years behind bars.
         “Where did you get the drugs?”
         The woman stiffened.
         “Can you tell me where you got the drugs?”
         Mägi thought for a moment. “No.”
         “Why not?”
         “I don’t want to answer.”
         “Why not?”
         She didn’t respond.
         Suhonen thought about Toukola’s strategy. With this approach, the interviewer was able to determine that she had acquired the drugs from someone.
         “Who were you supposed to bring the drugs to?”
         The woman remained silent.
         “Can you tell me who you were bringing the drugs to?”
         Again, a silence preceded her response. “No.”
         “Why not?”
         “I’d rather not answer.”
         “Why not?”
         Silence.
         At least it was now clear that she was a mule, Suhonen thought. He guessed correctly what Toukola would do next.
         “Interview concluded at 8:53 A.M.,” Toukola said into the microphone.
         He stopped the recording on the computer. “Marju, the interview is over,” he said softly.
         The microphones to the observation room were still live and Suhonen heard them continue to talk.
         “You were in possession of twenty ounces