Her Enemy by Leena Lehtolainen

Author:Leena Lehtolainen [Lehtolainen, Leena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction / Mystery & Detective, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 1611099641
Amazon: B00A9X0QJS
Publisher: AmazonCrossing
Published: 2013-05-14T05:00:00+00:00

9

“I might be remembering some of the details wrong, but you can’t accuse me of any wrongdoing,” Mallu said angrily to me on the telephone. It was Thursday morning, and I had finally reached her again to ask about where she had been on the day of Armi’s murder.

“I’ve told the police every single thing I did that day, and, as far as I understand, you aren’t even a police officer anymore anyway.”

“Mallu, come on. Please, can we just sit down and talk?” I knew Mallu was right: I didn’t have any right to interrogate her.

My hangover had rendered Wednesday a complete loss. I barely managed to get a little routine work done and spent the evening in front of the TV with a carton of Double Crème & Meringues Mövenpick. Thursday morning began with the euphoria familiar to anyone who has ever suffered a hangover—waking up and realizing I was myself again felt amazing.

Eventually, I talked Mallu into coming to the office later that afternoon and then headed out to downtown Tapiola to get a little lunch before another client meeting.

“How’s your bike been working?” Makke asked, standing at the door of his store, having a cigarette.

I flinched. Was that irony in his tone—or a warning?

“What do you mean by that?” I asked. “Did you have something to do with this?” I showed him the broken brake wires Antti and I had managed to get back in working order, but only just.

“Were you in an accident?” Makke sounded genuinely surprised.

“Oh, my handlebars just came off when I was riding out to the breakwater, and I got dumped in the water. I think somebody fiddled with it.”

“Your handlebars, that’s weird. Usually thieves just take the back wheel. And I can’t believe anyone would want to steal that old rattletrap anyway. Some kids probably just thought they were being funny.”

“Maybe. Listen, how long did you and Sanna date before…you know?”

The sudden change of topic elicited a confused glance.

“You mean, before she died? Well, not very long, really…Sanna…Sanna died in March, and we met just before Christmas at the bar around the corner there.”

Despite Makke’s attempt to maintain his relaxed front, this was no longer a casual conversation.

“Four months of dating. That doesn’t sound like a very long time. But you still seem to be in mourning more than a year later.”

Makke ground the butt of his cigarette under the ball of his foot as he replied.

“You can’t understand what it feels like, when you love someone, and your love just isn’t enough. When the person you care about most in all the world kills herself, despite how much you love her. And you’re even there when it happens but you were too fucked up to stop it.”

“But Makke, no one can really redeem anyone else. Everyone has to save themselves,” I said, sounding like a preacher and hoping I would be able to remember these wise words the next time Antti slid into one of his dissertation-writing funks.

“Sanna was so amazing. She was a lot smarter than me, always talking about books and poetry and philosophy.

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