Jenna laughs. “You’ll know about it soon. All little kids love the Muumit.” She explains that the Muumit are characters from a series of books by Tove Jansson. They’re round white trolls with big hippopotamus noses who live in Muumin valley, and they and their friends have adventures in the forest.
I think it finally sinks in that she’s twice Jenna’s age. “And of all the things to do in Turku,” Kate asks, “you would most like to spend your day with the trolls?”
Jenna grins wide and gives a vigorous nod of her head. “Uh-huh.”
They compromise. Muumin World is on the island of Kailo beside the old town of Naantali. The town grew around an old convent, and is composed mostly of wooden houses along narrow cobbled streets that house handicraft shops. They can all have their fun.
Sweetness wants to drive. I say sure, but no kossu. He hands me the keys. I toss them to Milo. He likes to drive, I want to think. I notice Moreau has stubble blurring his wings of Icarus. I ask why. He says he believes we’ll wrap this up soon. He’s growing hair for changing identities.
We load up the vehicles and agree to meet in the market square for lunch. I put Anu’s car seat in the back of the Audi, strap her in, and we get on the road.
In my mind, I replay my conversation with the minister of the interior. He said that in early 2009, Veikko Saukko promised to donate a million euros to Real Finns. A short time later, his son and daughter were kidnapped. Welshing on a million-dollar promise causes hard feelings. This provides motive.
Veikko’s son, Antti, was himself affiliated with the racists. This provides potential accomplices. He disappeared, although the ten-million-euro ransom had been paid. The kidnappers had made good on their bargain to release the daughter. Why show good faith in her instance, and then dispose of the son? Unless Antti took part in the kidnapping, rather than being a victim of it. And if he then fucked his racist buddies somehow, it could have sparked the shooting of his sister as payback. Antti had recently been stripped of his position as chairman of the board of Ilmarinen Sisu Corporation. Fucked in the ass by his father without provocation. Well, there was that fucking-Daddy’s-wife thing, but still, this provides additional motive.
Jussi Kosonen supposedly perpetrated the kidnapping. He’s dead. His three children are missing. It stinks of a setup. Kosonen was a patsy. If they kidnapped his kids while his wife was away and forced him to keep Kaarina Saukko in his basement and later deliver her, he would be useless after retrieving the ransom money for them. Hence, a bullet in the back of his head. It would be the most practical thing to do with him. His children likely got the same treatment.
And I was right, our black-ops unit had predecessors, and they were military. My guess would be sheep-dipped Erikoisj??k?rit, Special Forces, and they had gone to Russia on a mission concerning the human slave trade. So, like me, they had higher motives than ripping off dope dealers. And they were pros. And they died. And we’re bunglers. We’d better goddamned well improve our paramilitary skills.
The quiet has gone on for too long. Nervous puppy Milo has to break it. “Want to hear a joke?” he asks no one in particular.
No one answers. This doesn’t stop him.
“A priest checks into a hotel and says to the clerk, ‘I assume your porn is disabled.’ The clerk answers, ‘No, Father, it’s normal porn, you sick fuck.’”
Moreau chuckles. Sweetness guffaws. I smile. I never thought to practice laughing.
“Somebody tell a story,” Milo says.
Sweetness asks, “What kind of story?”
Milo thinks about it. “A fuck story. And it has to be true.”
No one volunteers.