The Hummingbird (38 page)

Kaarina placed the photograph on the kitchen table and her apparent calm began to fracture once again.

‘What’s going on here? What kind of madman is on the loose? Why aren’t the police doing anything?’ Kaarina burst into tears and left the kitchen. Anna and Esko sat at the table in silence, their untouched coffee cups in front of them. Anna thought of all the evenings and nights they had spent, without once looking at the clock, trying to catch this killer. All for nothing. They had done everything in their power, and still they had a new victim. Anna felt like throwing herself to the floor and screaming like a child to banish the agony of her frustration and exhaustion. She no longer wanted to do anything at all.

They heard the sound of someone blowing their nose, and Kaarina returned to the kitchen. She stood leaning against the sink and asked whether they would like more coffee. Anna and Esko politely declined.

‘I’m afraid there are still many questions we’ll have to ask you. I’m sure you understand, this will help us find the killer.’

‘Of course. Ask whatever you want. I can cope.’

‘You spent last night at your mother’s place, but where were you on the evenings of 21 August and 14 September?’

‘I can’t remember that, can I? Why do you ask?’

‘Would you rather we didn’t ask a possible suspect that question?’ Anna said.

The woman looked at Anna unflinchingly and snorted.

‘Of course not. I’m being silly, sorry. But I really don’t remember where I was on those evenings. Probably at home or with my mother. Or at Body Pump or the cinema or yoga or at my riding class. I have lots of hobbies. I’ll have to check my diary.’

‘Could you do that now, please?’

A furrow of irritation appeared between Kaarina’s eyes.

‘Do I have any choice in the matter?’ she said and left the room. A moment later she returned with her diary.

‘What days was it again?’

‘On 21 August and 14 September,’ Anna repeated.

‘Let me see. On 21 August, I had Body Pump at seven, followed immediately by relaxation yoga at eight. I use the BodyFitness gym on Suvantokatu, it’s right next to my mother’s house. I spent that night at my mother’s place – that’s what this moon here means,’ said Kaarina and indicated a small crescent drawn in pencil at the bottom of the entry for that day. Anna noticed that the same symbol appeared very regularly.

‘And the other day … Ah yes, I should have remembered that: the school’s autumn conference on leadership. It lasted all day: lectures, workshops and a cocktail reception in the evening. I wanted to take part in everything, so I can keep on top of things at work. And there were a few colleagues that I don’t see all that often. I spent that night at my mother’s place too. I almost always try and combine things in town with looking after my mother. I go to her apartment, we eat something together, I do the dishes and tidy up, go to the gym for a few hours and come back in time to make sure my mother is washed and takes her pills. She sleeps much better when I’m there. And in the morning I can change her diapers straight away and we don’t need to wait for the home help to arrive. My mother sometimes has to wait quite a while for them.’

‘What time did you leave the cocktail reception?’

‘Let me think … around ten, maybe?’

‘Who else was there?’

‘Do you think I did this? Good God, surely you can’t suspect me?’ Kaarina was becoming agitated.

‘We don’t suspect you, and verifiable alibis will help us quite a lot,’ said Esko amiably.

‘Well, there was Lea Haapala and Kirsti Tuulonen, colleagues and friends from years back. Ask them.’

‘Excellent. I’m sure everything’s in perfect order,’ said Esko so smoothly that Anna wondered whether he had the nerve to start hitting on a widow in shock.

‘Do you own any firearms?’ asked Anna.

Kaarina looked increasingly uneasy.

‘Yes. Veli-Matti sometimes went shooting in the woods. He wasn’t
a fanatical hunter, but every now and then he would go off and find
us something gourmet for dinner – well, he tried, at least,’ she said
with a forced laugh.

‘Could you show us the guns?’

‘Of course. They’re in Veli-Matti’s gun cabinet. Where is it he
keeps the key? Bear with me a second.’

She stood up and started rummaging through one of the kitchen
drawers. When she found what she was looking for, she led them
through the utility room and into the garage, in the far corner
of which stood the firearms cabinet. She unlocked the cabinet to
reveal a Sako rifle and two shotguns: a slender .20-calibre Merkel
and a beautiful .12-calibre Benelli, both engraved. Made to measure.
Expensive.

Esko looked down the barrel of the Benelli.

‘Has this been fired recently? It hasn’t been cleaned.’

‘Veli-Matti went down to the shore on the first day of the season,
first thing in the morning, spent the whole day there but didn’t catch
anything.’

‘Is that the shore at Selkämaa?’ Anna asked.

‘I don’t know. There’s a lot of shoreline around here. He didn’t
say.’

‘We’ll have to take this gun for further inspection.’

‘Of course.’

Esko packed the firearm into its carry case, propped at the back
of the cabinet. He picked up a packet of ammunition too. Anna
noticed that the rounds were the Armusa make. Kaarina looked on
restlessly, as though she were about to say something.

‘Then we’ll need a DNA sample. Here’s a warrant,’ said Anna.

‘What on earth for?’ Kaarina snapped and opened her mouth.

‘Routine stuff,’ said Anna and swabbed the inside of the woman’s
cheek with a Q-tip, which she then packed in a protective plastic
container.

‘How bad is your mother’s condition?’ Anna asked.

‘Very bad. She can’t really get around without assistance. On a good day she can get to the toilet by herself with the Zimmer frame. She can’t really see or hear properly any more, and she sometimes has terrible memory lapses. She has Alzheimer’s. But she has lucid moments too, and she doesn’t want to go into a home. She would prefer to die at home. What else is there to do except help her as much as I can? It’s not like I have any brothers or sisters.’

‘It’s admirable that you look after her so well,’ said Esko.

‘Yes, well, now it’s my turn to look after her,’ said Kaarina and gave Esko a faint smile. ‘I think people should be allowed to decide for themselves what they do with their lives, even if they don’t have very long left. I can’t force her into an institution. And thankfully the council provides services, home-helpers and that sort of thing. They visit two or three times a day, depending on how often I can be there.’

‘Can your mother confirm the nights that you were with her?’ asked Anna.

Kaarina looked doubtful. Then she said: ‘I wish I could say, of course she could, but that would be an exaggeration. She might be able to, but then again maybe not. Like I said, she has good days and bad.’

‘Does your husband keep old student registers? We’d like to check whether Riikka was ever in his class.’

‘We don’t keep things like that at home. The school secretary will have them filed away somewhere. Ask her.’

‘Fine. And do the Aztecs or the name Huitzilopochtli mean anything to you?’ Anna asked.

Kaarina stood staring at Anna and Esko in bewilderment. She wiped the tears from her eyes, which again betrayed a flash of coldness, perhaps hatred or arrogance.

‘Excuse me?’

‘For technical reasons, we can’t go into too much detail, but believe me, the question is highly relevant.’

‘Of course I know this and that about the Aztecs – I’m a teacher, after all, and one with a reasonable grasp of general knowledge. But I don’t have any personal connection to the subject. Not remotely.’

‘What about your husband?’

‘Oh for goodness’ sake, no! Why are you asking me such nonsense?’

‘Does this necklace look familiar?’ Anna asked and showed her the image of Huitzilopochtli.

‘I’ve never seen it before. What on earth is it?’

‘A necklace like this has been found on all the victims – including your husband.’

‘Terrible. What is it?’

‘Huitzilopochtli was the highest deity of the Aztecs, a deity to whom the people offered human sacrifices.’

‘My God,’ Kaarina gasped in shock.

Anna heard her phone beep as a text message arrived. She withdrew into the corridor to read it. Again it had been sent from a newly changed, unlisted number.

A wave of fear and disgust gave Anna goose bumps. The tone of the message had changed; now it was even more threatening. Still, Anna felt a faint sense of relief: at least there was one suspect she could now rule out.

Esko appeared in the hallway.

‘Let’s go,’ he said.

It’s not you, that’s for sure, Anna said to herself.

Anna’s doorbell rang at around 8.45 p.m. On arriving home, Anna has climbed straight into bed and tried to get some sleep, but she felt so cold that she couldn’t relax. Perhaps she had caught a chill after sitting on the damp moss. She wished she had an elevated temperature, a fever that would force her to stay in bed and would drain her so much that she would be able to sleep many days in a row.

She had just started to slip into that relaxed state before finally falling asleep when someone began ringing the doorbell.
Picsába
, she shouted and threw her pillow to the ground.

It was Ákos. Her brother was in a bad way. His face was blotchy and gaunt, and his clothes dirty. He stank.

‘
Basszd meg, Ákos, aludtam!
’

‘
Bocs
, Anna. This is an emergency. Take a look at these papers from the Social. I can’t understand a thing. My unemployment benefit hasn’t arrived, even though it should have. Now they’re asking for more information,
a faszom.
’

‘I’m not looking at this now.’

‘
Jebiga
, Anna! Help me out here, yeah? Just tell me what they need.’

‘
Bocs
yourself. I won’t. Take care of your own paperwork.’

‘Anna, I need some money. Lend me a hundred, eh? I’ll pay you back with next month’s benefit.’

‘I haven’t got any cash. And I wouldn’t give you any if I did.’

‘Fifty, then. Come on, I’m in the shit here.’

‘I can smell that.’

‘Give me a break. Just give me the money and I’ll go.’

‘You won’t get a penny from me, that’s for sure.’

‘Thanks a fucking lot. Bitch.’

‘Shut up. Have a shower.’

‘Give me a tenner, then.’

‘Not a cent. Now go on, piss off!’

‘Tight-arsed bitch, no wonder nobody’s interested in you. Who would want to look at police scum like that all day? At least give me a smoke, yeah?’ Ákos shouted. Anna picked up the packet she’d bought that day and threw it at him; it was already half empty. Without a word of thanks, Ákos left, slamming the door behind him. The stairwell boomed with the sound of banging and stomping.

Anna slumped on to the hallway rug. Her running shoes stared at her accusingly from beneath the coat rack. Anna threw them limply towards the door, but they continued to laugh at her.

She didn’t sleep a wink all night. Anna looked out of the kitchen window at the darkened suburb, its tower blocks standing unflinchingly, each on its own plot, without a care for what happened within
their walls. Does anyone out there wonder what kind of poor human fate my windows hide, she wondered. That’s what I am, a poor human fate, a pathetic soul that will soon go mad. I’ll go mad right here in this apartment. I’ve got to get out.

She decided to pay a visit to Bihar’s apartment. Slowly she drove through the northern suburbs towards Rajapuro. The radio was playing classical music. Loneliness condensed like moisture against a nocturnal window.

A red car glided past her on the empty road. The car’s headlights blinded her for a moment as it passed; Anna didn’t see who was driving. Should she do a U-turn and follow it, stop the car and ask for papers and ID? She hesitated. Even the simplest decisions seemed to get caught in a viscous sludge of fatigue. I’m not turning round, she eventually resolved. The streets are full of red cars, and it would be unprofessional to make a decision like this while my brain is bleary from lack of sleep. In any case, it’s gone now.

Bihar’s windows were dark.

Of course, Anna thought. What was I expecting? Did I think they would beat Bihar with the lights on and the curtains open, right by the living-room windows, at precisely the moment I pulled up in the yard?