Free The Defenceless by Kati Hiekkapelto Page B

Kirsti. Along the ground was a deep trail about a metre across. It had erased some of the footprints.
    ‘Something heavy was dragged along the ground. This looks like it was made by a plastic bin liner. Doesn’t take much imagination to guess what was inside it.’
    ‘Can I go down there?’ asked Anna.
    ‘Sure, we’ve already documented those prints, but don’t trample over them. We’ll have to examine them in more detail, see if there’s a proper shoe print anywhere.’
    The hairs on Anna’s back stood up as she followed the trail through the thicket. She walked well away from the footprints so as not to compromise them. The trail stopped at a small clearing after which was the start of a forest track cleared by a snowplough. Tyre tracks were clearly visible. One of the forensics officers was in the process of photographing them.
    ‘Hello,’ Anna greeted the man.
    ‘Hi there. I don’t think we’ve met. Pekka Holappa, nice to meet you.’
    ‘Fekete Anna.’ Out of habit, she introduced herself in the Hungarian manner.
    ‘I know. I’ve heard about you.’
    Anna felt like asking what exactly he’d heard about her, but thought better of it. His camera flashed. The man knelt down to take some close-up shots.
    ‘Any initial thoughts about these tracks?’ she asked instead.
    ‘Not really. They’re standard treads, quite thick tyres. I’d guess an SUV of some sort.’
    ‘I doubt a smaller car would get through snow like this.’
    ‘Well, there is a tarmacked surface underneath, and there have clearly been other cars up this way, but there’s a lot snow. If I were trying to move a body, I wouldn’t risk driving out here in a smaller car,’ said Pekka with a chuckle.
    ‘Get in touch as soon as you come up with something on these tracks, okay?’
    ‘Sure thing,’ said Pekka and smiled at Anna. Not bad looking, thought Anna and smiled back.
    ‘Can I get in touch anyway?’ he shouted after her once she made to leave.
    Anna pretended not to hear. You’re a stupid girl, she chided herself and felt the fleeting desire for a cigarette grip the back of her throat.
    ‘Hey, don’t go yet! Look at what I’ve found here,’ Pekka called after her.
    Anna turned around and went back to him. Pekka held up a darkgreen card.
    ‘What’s that?’
    ‘A cloakroom ticket.’
    ‘Where was it?’
    ‘In that footprint, pressed inside it. It’s a wonder I even noticed it; the footprint is at least thirty centimetres deep.’
    ‘Does it say what restaurant it came from?’
    ‘No. All we have is the word KOFF and the number 147.’
    ‘Someone is going to have to visit every pub in the city,’ said Anna and felt a wave of resignation at the thought that that someone would be her.
     
    His chest felt tight. No, just a twinge. A twinge in his lungs, that was all, too many smokes and too little exercise. Damn it, Anna was right, thought Esko. He reached for the packet of Norths in his jacket pocket but didn’t light up. He couldn’t, not indoors. He watched as a dark-skinned man in his twenties was handcuffed and bundled out of the apartment. As far as he was concerned it was the wrong guy; it wasn’t Reza. No matter, they’d get something out of this one too – at least, they would if Esko was allowed to interrogate him. He knew he wouldn’t have the chance; the NBI boys took care of all the tidy indoor work, while the city police were sent out any time you might have to get your hands dirty.
    Esko glanced around. Far too tidy for your average junkie’s pad, he thought. Most likely people didn’t shoot up here; this place was just for dealing or planning. A brand new computer caught Esko’s attention. It was in the bedroom on a light-brown veneer desk withpiles of paper, a pencil stand, headphones and a printer all seemingly in their rightful places. A home office used to organise drug deals and gang warfare – all paid for by his taxation. Fucking hell. Esko’s head ached. The sun beamed in through the