Deep as Death by Katja Ivar

Author:Katja Ivar
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bitter Lemon Press
Published: 2020-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

Arne loved coming to my office. It didn’t happen often – there are better surroundings for a three-year-old boy than an overheated homicide squad room with its gruesome exhibits and portraits of criminals on the walls. But when he did come, he enjoyed the gentle cosseting of the squad secretary, Tarja, and the camaraderie he felt with the officers. He had already told me that when he grew up he wanted to become a detective too. Good thing his grandfather hadn’t heard that; the old snob would have had a heart attack.

Arne’s arrival that day provoked the usual whoops of delight. He sat on Anita’s knee, smiling dreamily while she murmured something into his ear. All around them, the detectives were rushing about, the majority of them part of the team investigating Klara Nylund’s murder. Neighbours, girls and those clients the police had managed to identify had been questioned, but none had provided any valuable information. The search of the back yard, the lane leading to it, and the interior of the house had been completed, to no avail. All the police knew was that someone, most likely a man, had met with the madam between 7 and 9 p.m. and bludgeoned her to death with an unknown weapon.

After discussing the case during our morning briefing – Arne spent that time helping Tarja water the plants – Inspector Pinchus summed up the situation: “Either it’s random, or it’s not. In either case, God help us.”

“There’s also Anita’s attacker,” I said. “The brothel is only a stone’s throw away from where she ran into me. Inspector Pinchus, would you look into that?”

Pinchus rolled his eyes. “Just a coincidence. Some drunk. We’ll never find him.”

“I strongly suggest you try,” I said through clenched teeth. Some days, I felt like nothing ever got done unless I insisted. And even then, it was not done properly.

“All right,” Pinchus glared.

Jokela glanced at his watch, started drumming his fingers on the table. He had a lunch appointment with Dr Palmu, and he was afraid he’d be late. Pinchus got the hint and started to get up, but just then I surprised them by saying that it would be a good idea to involve Interpol.

“They’ve been asking for a sample file from us,” I said. “This could be it. We’ll provide them with what we have on Nellie and now Klara Nylund. Maybe they’ll be able to come up with something useful.”

Jokela drew on his cigarette; his nostrils flared. “Are you sure,” he said, looking at me, “that this is a good idea? What if the case is never solved? What would they think of us?”

I had hesitated for a long time before making the suggestion; I was not going to back off now. “I hope the case will be solved,” I said. “To everyone’s satisfaction. And anyway, this is not about our egos. In a situation like this, where we may be dealing with a mass murderer, we need all the help we can get.”

Jokela glared

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