“So what are you calling me for?”
“The attacker was a giant in a hooded sweatshirt. I know goddamned good and well it was Sulo Polvinen, but when the investigating officers went to his house, his parents provided him with an alibi and said he was home all evening watching TV with them. I demand that you do something about this.”
“One,” I say, “I’m on the homicide squad, and the bouncers aren’t dead, so it’s not my concern.” Actually, it falls within my purview, but I doubt he knows that. “Two, I think the bouncers got what they deserved. Three, you can go fuck yourself.”
I hang up on him.
The bedroom is clean. I walk out to check with the other detectives. The apartment is a shambles-they’ve turned it inside out. They’ve found nothing.
I call Milo. “I’m disgusted to say,” he says, “that I’m holding in my hand four freezer bags, all of which appear to contain sperm. I assume one sample came from Jyri and the three other come-wads are from his buddies. They were in Filippov’s freezer, numbered one to four instead of labeled by name.”
It’s something, anyway. Beyond that, his report is also negative, and their search is near conclusion. Filippov sticks his head in the front door. I hang up on Milo.
“Hi, Ivan,” I say. “What can I do for you?”
He strides in, has recovered his self-possession and intimidating manner. “I trust you haven’t found what you had hoped for,” he says.
“No, I haven’t, but I remain confident that I will.”
He leans against the wall with his arms folded, cocky. “I came here to let you know that I intend to ensure that the investigation of my wife’s murder is speedily concluded, and that Rein Saar is prosecuted. And I intend to file a complaint against you for harassment. You’ve searched my home and business without cause. A grieving widower should be left in peace to mourn, not treated in such a fashion.”
“Your wife was a slut,” I say, “and so is your mistress. We turned up four semen samples in your freezer. I’m pretty sure I know where they came from.”
His voice takes on a sadness both out of context and character. “Poor Iisa was given toward promiscuity, but Linda has always been faithful. If she was unfaithful, it was for me, for our common good.”
I pretend confidence I don’t feel. I may well be unable to convict Filippov. The murder was well planned and executed, all the way down to the blackmail scam. I come on conciliatory and bluff, as if I’m prepared to negotiate on Jyri’s behalf, just to see what comes of it. “Listen,” I say, “it’s possible that we could set aside our differences. You want things, Jyri and I and others want things. Let’s get together and discuss it.”
Now he realizes Jyri put me in the loop and I know the truth, but he hedges to buy time and process what it might mean. “I have no idea what those things might be,” he says.
“Maybe we could both think about it overnight. What those things are-and how to get what we want-might come to us.”
He studies me, skeptical. “All right, Inspector. Let’s meet at Kamp tomorrow at five p.m. You can buy our dinner.”
“Deal,” I say. We don’t shake hands. He walks out.
I have no idea what I’m going to say to him tomorrow, but for his vengeance to be complete, Rein Saar has to go to prison. If I can’t come up with something, it might happen. That’s unacceptable to me. Unfortunately, Jyri won’t share my concerns. I have to figure this out by myself.
My phone rings again. It’s Kate, and she’s crying. “Kari, where are you, it’s one thirty in the morning.”
“I’m sorry, it’s this murder investigation.”
She sobs. “Can you please come home now? I need you.”
“I’ll leave this minute,” I say, put on my coat and head out the door.
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