The Defenceless by Kati Hiekkapelto Page A

overalls.

6
    ‘ WE GOT A CALL from the switchboard. Missing person,’ Virkkunen told Anna.
    ‘Finally,’ she said, relieved. ‘Who was he?’
    ‘The victim reported missing is an elderly woman by the name of Riitta Vehviläinen.’
    ‘Oh. So why was it transferred to us?’
    ‘Normally they wouldn’t have called it in, but this woman lives in the same house where we found Marko Halttu and the illegal kid. The same floor, even: Halttu lived in the apartment opposite.’
    ‘Quite a coincidence.’
    ‘Indeed. It’s probably chance, but in any case I thought we should have a look at her apartment too, just to make sure we’ve covered our tracks in case it turns out it’s not coincidence after all. I thought you could take care of this while we’re processing Halttu’s apartment.’
    ‘That’s fine.’
    ‘Sari can help Esko with the drugs case involving these gangs; you go through that woman’s apartment.’
    ‘Am I looking for anything in particular?’
    ‘I can’t say. Look for anything to suggest where she might have gone, but don’t rule out the possibility that these gangs might be involved in her disappearance. If a woman living opposite a heroin hellhole goes missing at the same time as we find the tenant of the hellhole dead with a wound to his head and a huge stash of drugs, we have to react accordingly.’
    ‘Of course. When was the woman last seen?’
    ‘Here’s her daughter’s telephone number. She called it in; apparently she visits her mother fairly regularly. Call her and ask her toaccompany you to the apartment. She’ll be able to tell you if anything looks out of the ordinary.’
    ‘Okay.’
     
    The spasms were worse than ever. Sammy was lying in police custody, on a hard bunk in a bare cell. His whole body was trembling, the pain was excruciating and it was attacking him all over. He was sure there wasn’t a single, tiny patch of his body that wasn’t screaming in agony. What’s more, he stank. An officer had visited him that morning, a beautiful, blond woman, and tried to talk to him. Sammy noticed how she was holding her breath, trying to hide a look of disgust. He’d understood what she was asking, his English was good, but he’d only said one word to the officer: heroin . He hoped she would get the picture, fast. In this country heroin addicts were given Subutex. Soon he would find relief. Maybe. Unless they didn’t give subs to prisoners. If that were the case, he’d have to languish here a long time before the spasms would pass. It would be a good thing, of course. He was ready to suffer the withdrawal symptoms, he would accept it as divine intervention; that much he owed himself and his family. And the longer the symptoms continued, the longer he would remain in here. Perhaps. Perhaps they wouldn’t repatriate him in this condition. His legs were cramping, cold sweat was dripping from his skin, the pain was terrible. He felt like crying out, crying to God.
    The last time he had prayed was in January, at the immigration office of the police station as he went to pick up the result of his asylum application. He had done everything slowly, reached his hand out to the stern-looking officer, opened the sheet of folded paper with exaggerated dignity. He had been so sure. He had saved up money for coffee and cake at the finest café in town, borrowed a suit jacket from Ali in the room next door; he’d even thought of buying a flower to put in his buttonhole but decided it would be a bit over the top. He had resolved to apply to a carpentry course starting that autumn at the city’s academy of arts and crafts. His prayer had been simple:thank you. Thank you, Holy Lord, for this gift, for the possibility of a new life. And now he was here, in a dead end. This wasn’t a stopping point on the way to hell, this was the deepest inferno, forever banished from Paradise. Everything was over, finito , done and dusted. The flames scorched his ravaged body, his head was caught in a