calendar while still talking into the phone.
“When would work for you?”
“Maybe Saturday.”
“What time?”
“Noon.”
“That’s good for me to. See you then.”
“Cool. I’ll bring the fishing gear. Maybe you could make lunch.”
“Great. See you then.”
Koskinen had barely set the handset in its cradle before Laine guffawed.
“So you hooked some other new suspect?” he said sarcastically.
Koskinen didn’t respond at all. He looked at Laine and saw from the man’s expression that he had gathered his lost self-confidence during the pho ne call. He had been right—Tomi really couldn’t have called at a worse time.
“Well, now, let’s get back to business,” Koskinen said, trying to regain the hardness that had been in his voice moments before. “Like back to that Monday night.”
“Let’s,” Laine said, leaning forward. “How can your witness be so sure that he actually saw my vehicle? There are other handicap taxis in this town, you know.”
Koskinen thought it over. In fact, Taisto Toivakka had only seen the taillights, and that was unquestionably the weakest link of the whole investigation at this point. Even the most straight-faced defense lawyer would laugh at it. However, Koskinen didn’t want to reveal that to Laine just yet. Instead, he responded with what he had heard from Kaatio.
“Your van is easy to identify. As I understand, it’s completely different from the other taxis in town.”
Laine set his right hand on the desk and squeezed it into a fist.
“It must be one of that Fallen Angels crew. They specialize in seeing pink elephants.”
Koskinen raised his eyebrows inquisitively, which make Laine explain: “They call themselves the Fallen Angels. They’re supposed to be some sort of motorcycle gang on wheelchairs. They booze and get into fights constantly. And now with Timonen dead, then there are only two of them left: Ketterä and Harjus.”
Koskinen remembered Kaatio having mentioned the same names a few minutes previously. “Did there used to be more of them?”
“At least six. One died a year ago from bone cancer, one found religion, and another was forced to move somewhere else.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. There were a lot of stories going around about him.”
“Choose one.”
“Well, someone said that he tried to rape an intern.”
“An invalid trying to rape someone?”
Laine looked at Koskinen with disdain. “Don’t tell me you see the same glossy angel picture of them as everybody else?”
“I didn’t mean that, just the physical side.”
Laine laughed dryly. “Give me a break! They’re capable of a lot more than most people would believe.”
“How did these Fallen Angels get along with each other?”
“Exactly the same as their role-models,” Laine said. He snorted and then stared at the fish painting on the wall.
“Explain,” Koskinen said impatiently.
“When the y left to go drinking they were always friends, but when they came back they were belligerent drunks. Sometimes it was like open warfare between them with death threats and everything flying around.”
Laine must have sensed Koskinen’s interest, because he continued eagerly: “If anyone would know, it would be me. I’ve driven them home from their outings more than anyone. They couldn’t even ride in the same van, so I had to make separate trips for them... A t all hours of the night I might add.”
“All hours?”
“Yeah. Usually only after last call. Sometimes they were so piss drunk that I had to schlep them all the way to their rooms.”
“To their rooms?” Koskinen repeated. “How did you get them inside?”
Laine looked at Koskinen, perplexed. “Through the front door. How else?”
“So you have a key to the building?”
“Of course. I got it when they canceled the nurses’ night shifts. Not just because of the boozers either…sometimes I have to transport the quadriplegics too at night. They can’t use their keys and often have
“When would work for you?”
“Maybe Saturday.”
“What time?”
“Noon.”
“That’s good for me to. See you then.”
“Cool. I’ll bring the fishing gear. Maybe you could make lunch.”
“Great. See you then.”
Koskinen had barely set the handset in its cradle before Laine guffawed.
“So you hooked some other new suspect?” he said sarcastically.
Koskinen didn’t respond at all. He looked at Laine and saw from the man’s expression that he had gathered his lost self-confidence during the pho ne call. He had been right—Tomi really couldn’t have called at a worse time.
“Well, now, let’s get back to business,” Koskinen said, trying to regain the hardness that had been in his voice moments before. “Like back to that Monday night.”
“Let’s,” Laine said, leaning forward. “How can your witness be so sure that he actually saw my vehicle? There are other handicap taxis in this town, you know.”
Koskinen thought it over. In fact, Taisto Toivakka had only seen the taillights, and that was unquestionably the weakest link of the whole investigation at this point. Even the most straight-faced defense lawyer would laugh at it. However, Koskinen didn’t want to reveal that to Laine just yet. Instead, he responded with what he had heard from Kaatio.
“Your van is easy to identify. As I understand, it’s completely different from the other taxis in town.”
Laine set his right hand on the desk and squeezed it into a fist.
“It must be one of that Fallen Angels crew. They specialize in seeing pink elephants.”
Koskinen raised his eyebrows inquisitively, which make Laine explain: “They call themselves the Fallen Angels. They’re supposed to be some sort of motorcycle gang on wheelchairs. They booze and get into fights constantly. And now with Timonen dead, then there are only two of them left: Ketterä and Harjus.”
Koskinen remembered Kaatio having mentioned the same names a few minutes previously. “Did there used to be more of them?”
“At least six. One died a year ago from bone cancer, one found religion, and another was forced to move somewhere else.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. There were a lot of stories going around about him.”
“Choose one.”
“Well, someone said that he tried to rape an intern.”
“An invalid trying to rape someone?”
Laine looked at Koskinen with disdain. “Don’t tell me you see the same glossy angel picture of them as everybody else?”
“I didn’t mean that, just the physical side.”
Laine laughed dryly. “Give me a break! They’re capable of a lot more than most people would believe.”
“How did these Fallen Angels get along with each other?”
“Exactly the same as their role-models,” Laine said. He snorted and then stared at the fish painting on the wall.
“Explain,” Koskinen said impatiently.
“When the y left to go drinking they were always friends, but when they came back they were belligerent drunks. Sometimes it was like open warfare between them with death threats and everything flying around.”
Laine must have sensed Koskinen’s interest, because he continued eagerly: “If anyone would know, it would be me. I’ve driven them home from their outings more than anyone. They couldn’t even ride in the same van, so I had to make separate trips for them... A t all hours of the night I might add.”
“All hours?”
“Yeah. Usually only after last call. Sometimes they were so piss drunk that I had to schlep them all the way to their rooms.”
“To their rooms?” Koskinen repeated. “How did you get them inside?”
Laine looked at Koskinen, perplexed. “Through the front door. How else?”
“So you have a key to the building?”
“Of course. I got it when they canceled the nurses’ night shifts. Not just because of the boozers either…sometimes I have to transport the quadriplegics too at night. They can’t use their keys and often have
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