Chapter Text
She stands in front of Lauri’s house. It’s early morning, the sun has not yet fully risen. She dials a number.
“This is Sofia Karppi.”, she says. “I need information on a certain Jouni Paarma. He died in a traffic accident in spring. Can you tell me about the details of the accident?” She listens to the voice on the other end.”
“A car from the psychiatric ward?”, she repeats, frowning. “Then Paarma was a patient?”
He feels the unease right when Rautamaa steps into the office. Feigning he’s totally concentrated on his laptop, he doesn’t look up.
“Is Nurmi here?”, she asks. Her voice tells him she’s not up for a conversational chat. He keeps tipping.
“How about a coffee break?”, she says to the officer in the same room with him. Fuck. Why does he know it’s going to be about Karppi?
He hears her heels click on the floor as she approaches him.
“What is it with the dashcam recording?”, she asks him. He knows she’s not here to play around. She knows that he knows exactly what she’s talking about.
“Which one?”, he says, feigning ignorance.
“Hieta says he had to restore a video for Karppi”.
His heartrate picks up. “Okay.”, he retorts. He wants to give her as little information as possible.
“A video from Germany. It probably has nothing to do with our case.” Her voice is serious, direct. Nurmi glances at her, knows she’s got him. He sighs.
“I know you know something about it.”, she says, crossing her arms. Capitulating, he opens a file on his laptop, containing the video.
“Hamburg”, she highlights. “This has something to do with the death of Karppi’s husband, right?”
“Yes.”, he sighs, resigned. He doesn’t want to bust Karppi, doesn’t want to lose her again. But he knows the video, knows the moment the blonde woman appears on the screen; he’s seen it multiple times, always hoping it’s not her. He knows the moment he starts the video, there’s no way Rautamaa won’t see her. So he doesn’t play around, the jig is up. He fast-forwards until the woman appears on the screen. Rautamaa leans forward, her eyes hard, and the only thing he can do is stare at the screen. She shoots him a glare, and he prepares himself for the impact.
She walks around him to sit on the desk, her voice suddenly soft: “So what’s this about?”
It’s textbook police work, he thinks. She’s trying to establish a bond to him.
“Karppi’s husband was run over by a car with diplomatic plates.”
“A diplomat?”
“The wife of the Polish diplomate in Germany.”
She sighs. “That’s why she couldn’t get procecuted.”
Nurmi nods. “But Karppi has investigated and she called her.”
Rautamaa exhales loudly. “I certainly hope she did that as a private individual.”
“Sure.”, he says, hoping there’s not a blinking red line appearing on his forehead reading ‘blatant lie’. He relies on the fact that Rautamaa doesn’t know Karppi as well as him. “Anyway, this Polish woman told her she had seen someone hitting Karppi’s husband. Then he stumbled onto the road in front of the car.”
Rautamaa, like a good police officer, asks the question he dreads to answer. “But, that is Karppi, isn’t it?”
“Looks that way.”, he wants to sound nonchalant, but the pounding of his heart betrays him.
“But she said she had been at home at that time?” Rautamaa doesn’t let go. He doesn’t know how to answer that. His silence seems to be enough for her.
“Did you confront Karppi about this?”
He shakes his head. “No.” Not because he doesn’t want to. Because he doesn’t know how. Still trusts in the good of her that tells him she wouldn’t ever do that. “But why would she want to investigate his death if she were the culprit?”
To his surprise, Rautamaa doesn’t seem fazed by the question. “Because she forgot it.”, she retorts, nodding as if that’s already fact.
“You think she has posttraumatic amnesia?”, Nurmi asks and can’t help it, he sounds skeptical.
“Yes, something isn’t rare.”
“You think, Karppi killed her husband and can’t remember it?” He can’t believe he’s actually having this conversation.
Rautamaa doesn’t notice his skepticism, or chooses to ignore it. “Where’s Karppi now?”
There’s a tale-telling lump in his throat, because he knows what she’s going to ask next. “No idea. She was on the island. I’ll call her.”
“No.”, Rautamaa orders. “We have to arrest her. I manage this.” Pure anger heats up his veins.
“You can’t be serious.”, he exclaims before he can stop himself. “Let me call her.”
“Do you trust Karppi?”, she asks, almost accusingly. She doesn’t wait for his answer. Sighing, he slumps in his chair. What can I do?
She’s walking towards her apartment as he calls her. She likes the nostalgia it brings her; him calling her like it’s the most normal thing in the world. What he has to say though, makes her body crawl from dread.
“Don’t go home”, he whispers. “We’ll arrest you there.” She doesn’t believe him first. Then Nurmi tells her about the video, about her being seen on it on the side of the road.
“Tell me what this means.”, he demands. She hears the insecurity in his voice. She wants to ask further, when something makes her stop.
“Hello? Karppi? Are you still there?
She sees the officers. She’s them walking to her. Adrenaline courses through her veins, her fight or flight instinct kicking in. For once, she does something she’s never done before. She flees. It’s astonishing how fast the people you’d protect with your life turn into people that haunt you.
She’s pissed like she’s never been.
“Someone warned her! Who was it?” Nurmi feels like a schoolboy getting told off, standing next to JP. His arms crossed, he’s ready. Ready for whatever she throws at him. He doesn’t regret what he did. The police officer in him scolds him for his naivety, but he ignores it. Thankfully, JP doesn’t say anything, because Nurmi is almost certain the older detective suspects it’s him.
Rautamaa sighs, exasperated. “Well, we still have the phone records.” Then she adds something that – again – surprises him. “Nurmi, you’re looking for Karppi. You know her the best and you probably know where she’s hiding.” Then she turns to JP.
“And you’re responsible for the manhunt. After this, we turn back to Korento.” With that, she walks away.
JP looks at Nurmi. “Well, it had to come to this.”
Nurmi just hums, nodding. He pays Hieta a visit, ignoring the feeling of betrayal he gets when he sees him. He just did his job, he tells himself. Don’t get angry at him.
Nurmi asks about her phone, which is turned off as he already anticipated. But Hieta has more information for him.
“She logged into the information system. She looked up informations on the accident of Jouni Paarma. The car were he was burnt belonged to the psychiatric ward.” Nurmi has to process that information. What?
“Jouni Paarma was a psychiatric patient?” Nea’s uncle. The man Nea lived with when her mother died. He still remembers Karppi’s face when she realized he had slept with her. Still sees the disappointment mixed with hurt in her eyes.
“Yes”, Heita answers. A thought comes to mind.
“Damn it.”, Nurmi murmurs, and leaves.
The woman in the psychiatric ward is annoying, rambling about sensitive data. She finally complies when Karppi tells her there will be more victims if she doesn’t give her the information now.
“The accident happened when Paarma was transferred to another hospital.”
“Why another hospital?”
“It was arranged a long time before the accident.”
“Why?”
“Paarma had hallucinations. He attacked the staff and refused to take his medication. From our psychiatrist’s point of view, he was a danger to himself and the staff, so there was grounds for a compulsory treatment.”
“Who signed the compulsory treatment?”, asks Karppi.
“The most recent compulsory treatment was signed by the chief psychiatrist, Unto Borg.”
“Is he available? I’d like to speak to him.”
“He has a day off today.”
He’s just out the door when he sees the hindlights of his car. He knows it’s her. Part of him – the police officer who doesn’t let up – admonishes him for leaving the keys in the car, letting a suspect get away. But the part in him that’s bigger is relieved he doesn’t have to arrest her. Because he fears this is what ultimately will end their whatever they have. And because – even though the police officer in his mind tells him that’s naïve – after all this time, he still trusts her.
When the fire alarm is off, all the patients and staff stand outside of the building, he turns to a blonde woman with short hair.
“Helsinki police”, he flashes his badge. “Sofia Karppi is my colleague. I’m looking for her. Do you know where she might have gone?”
The woman nods.
Unto Borg’s adress is an old brick-lined building. The rain starts to pick up when she enters, faint thunder heard in the distance. She knocks, then enters the door that’s already open. The house is eerily quiet and dark, her cautious ‘hello’ not met with any response.
Adrenaline fills her when she sees the fallen lamp, the mess. She pulls out her gun. All she can hear is the rolling thunder, her fast breathing. There’s an open door that leads to the basement. It’s pitch dark, her torch the only thing that illuminates the room. She stops short, gasping when the light falls on a body laying on plank bed, bloody and cut. She comes closer, feels blood dripping onto her, sees the symbol. Korento. She tries to feel for a pulse. Borg suddenly takes a sharp breath in, she winces. She doesn’t know what it is that makes her turn around. Maybe she heard the movement, maybe she felt him.
But when she turns, she sees him. Brandishing a sharp knife, a bloody mask over his face. She steps back, dodging the knife as best as she can in the dark. He slams her against a wall; she loses her torch, then for a heart-stopping second her gun. She finds it quickly on the floor. Breathing heavily, she moves from one side to the other. It’s pitch black again, but she knows he’s here. She feels him here. Every hair on the back of her neck stands up. She knows he’s got the advantage, he’s done this before. She tries to calm the pounding of her heart.
And then it happens so fast. As soon as she realizes there is a figure coming rapidly close from one side, she feels the sharp pain in her stomach, and wails, the gun tumbling to the ground. As if in slow motion, the knife dives deeper, she feels him turn it slightly, the asshole. She punches hard into the dark, connecting with a hard surface. The suspect huffs, staggering back. She sinks to her knees from the pain. Suddenly, she feels something cold and metal against her leg. Her gun. She doesn’t take a second to reflect. She fires into the dark, hopening she hit the piece of shit. There’s a metal pang, then footsteps. She wants to get up, wants to go after him, but she realizes her legs are numb and weak, she’s getting dizzy. With a hand she touches the long and deep gash in her abdomen. Warm liquids spurts from it. She slumps down against the wall, her mind hazy. The last thing that she remembers is that she can’t say goodbye to Emil.
He lets out a sharp exhale when he sees his car. She’s here. Relief fills him, then quickly turns into fear when he sees a bloody handprint on the entrance. No.
In a haze, he calls for backup. His tongue is strangely dry when he shouts the words ‘officer in immediate danger’. He hopes he’s wrong, he hopes she got away. Gun raised, he stumbles into the house. The living room completely in disarray, blood traces all over the floor. It’s so much his throat closes up. He prays she got away.
Slowly, but steadily, he follows the bloody trace. He turns on his torch in the darkness. The corridor leads him into the basement. What he sees there makes his blood run cold, his heart skipping. It’s not the body in front of him, cut open, that makes him stop in his tracks. It’s her figure, pale and unmoving, against the wall, a big gash in her stomach. No.
He doesn’t even check for a pulse on Borg’s body. Like on autopilot, he reaches her. He doesn’t see her chest moving. He lowers his gun to his side, his arms numb. He can’t do anything. He just stares at her, pain tightening his chest, his eyes filling with tears. He can’t believe the last time he spoke to her he questioned her integrity. He wants to tell her more, wants to tell her how much she means to him, wants to tell her –
A small whimper, all-too familiar to him, breaks him out of his thoughts. He’s immediately at her side.
“Karppi”, he says loudly, gripping her hard. “Hold on. You’ve got to hold on. Help is on the way.”
“Paarma”, she rasps. “He was here. He got ‘way.”, she slurs. She whimpers again when Nurmi presses hard on her injury, his hands immediately wet from the blood. Shit.
“I know, don’t speak now. Everything will be alright, help is on the way.” He repeats it like a mantra, unsure if it is for him, or for her. He sees her eyes, half-lidden, sees her face as pale as never before.
“Tell Emil I’m sorry.”, she says, before her head slumps. He lets out a shout just as he hears sirens, growing louder. He embraces her limp body, one hand on the cut. He feels her weak breathing. He keeps listening for it until JP bursts into the room.
It’s chaos when she arrives on scene; police vehicles, crime scene specialists. Multiple voices all over the place, from the radio, the officers on scene. It’s only a matter of time before reporters get here. JP sees her when she enters. Nurmi stands in the middle of the basement, his arms crossed. There’s a shadow over his eyes, his face creased, his lips thin. JP has never seen him like this. He’s almost like an injured animal defending itself. She ignores his accusing glare.
“Borg is in the ICU. He’s stable.”, she says. Nurmi is silent. “He’s probably going to make it.” She approaches the plank bed. “Did he want to bleed him out?”
Nurmi’s answer is short and hard. “Looks that way.” He keeps staring at her.
“Karppi was here.”, Rautamaa states. She sees a flinch, tiny. Then he immediately regains his serious posture.
“If she hadn’t been, the man would have died.”
“Why was she here?”, asks Rautamaa, her forehead creasing.
“She spoke to Borg’s colleague in the psychiatric ward.” She nods. Nurmi bristles, his eyes icy. Rautamaa lifts her chin higher, waiting.
“If you’ve got something to say, say it.” JP can’t help but feel like it’s a stand off, tensio running high between them. He comes up to Nurmi’s side.
Nurmi is as pent-up as he never was before. JP doesn’t remember when he has ever seen him like this, so angry, so bitter. But then again, he had witnessed the whole thing. She being strapped on a stretcher, cables, multiple infusions connected to her. Her skin cold and clammy, her breathing fast. Her blood pressure dropping. Simply by chance, the knife hadn’t nicked an artery. It’s the only reason why she was still alive when they arrived. JP had watched Nurmi then. It’s an image that would hunt him for the forseeable future.
“She was moments away from dying.”, the younger man speaks through gritted teeth, his jaw set. “I came in, I found her. She was dying in my arms when the ambulance came.”
“Ok.” Rautamaa says, coldly. JP’s breath is labored, he can physically feel the friction. Nurmi readjusts his stance.
“She was alone. All alone. It’s dangerous to investigate alone.”
“If she decides to investigate alone on her free time, it’s her own foolishness that rides her into danger.”, Rautamaa explains, her voice raised. Nurmi bristles with anger.
“Her own foolishness?”, he repeats, the frown on his forehead deepening further. JP sees the seething look in his eyes. “She was alone, because you decided to start a manhunt on her. A manhunt that’s a bit overeager, considering you only have circumstantial evidense, don’t you think?” JP sucks in a breath. Nurmi’s in a trance. “You decided to arrest a colleague, a friend, a highly capable detective on the grounds of a video where you can’t even see her face.” Nurmi approaches her. “And she still wanted to investigate, she still wanted to keep going, even though it was risky for her in the open. She almost got herself killed.”, he swallows hard. “Because I wasn’t here. Partners are supposed to look out for each other, and I wasn’t here, because she knew I would have to arrest her.” He stands very close to Rautamaa now, the plank bed the only thing separating them.
“It’s good for you that Borg is stable”, he says bitterly. “But if it’s any of your concern, she’s undergoing emergency surgery because her spleen was injured. And if she dies”, he has to swallow again. “I will hold you accountable for it.”
JP puts a hand on him. “Nurmi”, he says warningly. The man moves himself on dangerous territory right now.
Rautamaa glares back. “What is your relationship towards Karppi?”
Nurmi huffs, exasperated. “She’s my partner.”, he stares her down, as if he’s taunting her to question him further, to provoke him.
Rautamaa is silent for a minute, fuming. Then suddenly, she relaxes, her composure turning cold, professional.
“You’re too close. I take you off the case of Jussi Honkasuo.”
Nurmi laughs, darkily. “I’m fine with that.”
“And I won’t write you up for your behavior this time, because I can imagine it was a shock to find her like this. But believe me this, next time, I won’t be so considerate.”
JP glances at his colleague, his hand still on his shoulder. The muscle tense under his skin.
“Roger that.”, Nurmi turns away from her, his eyes still glaring at her. “Now, if you excuse me, I have to pick up my partner’s son and tell him.”