Silence by Jan Costin Wagner Page B

understood Ketola’s excitement. He understood how badly shaken Ketola, a younger Ketola, had been by the death of Pia Lehtinen and the failure of the CID’s enquiries into the case. And how he could never quite put that failure out of his mind.
    All the same …
    All the same, the idea of a copycat murderer strikes me as more plausible, don’t you think?’ he said.
    ‘Nonsense!’ Ketola had jumped up, stopped halfway across the room and sat down again. ‘No, that’s garbage. It’s important for you to concentrate on what we found out at the time. Or at least you ought to bear it in mind. It has to be the same murderer, you have to keep your eye on that, anything else is nonsense.’ He was speaking calmly again, but with conviction. ‘I’ll offer Sundström my assistance. In looking through the old files.’
    Kimmo nodded. He thought that was a good idea, even though he didn’t share Ketola’s opinion. Not without further evidence. He simply did not know what had happened. All he knew was that Kalevi and Ruth Vehkasalo would not have slept a wink last night, and he was afraid that their daughter was no longer alive.
    ‘How are you going to proceed? I assume you’ll soon be searching that lake, the one where we found Pia Lehtinen.’
    ‘We already have, although – well, I was going to say unsuccessfully, but successfully would be better, because we didn’t find her. Not yet. We’ll go on searching.’
    ‘Hm, yes, you reacted quickly. That’s surprising. Even before you’d identified the missing person.’
    ‘The bicycle was lying right beside the cross erected in Pia Lehtinen’s memory. I told Sundström about the connection and he ordered the search at once. He always reacts pretty fast, sometimes just on instinct. And very often he entirely forgets to discuss it with Nurmela.’
    Ketola hardly seemed to be listening, for his smile was a long time coming. Then he said, ‘Good man.’
    ‘I’m going straight out to see the missing girl’s parents. Her mother collapsed yesterday evening. I got Niemi to give me the sports bag we found before coming here. I want to show it to the parents. Maybe it’s not their daughter’s after all …’
    ‘Mm, collapsed …’ murmured Ketola. ‘I’ll come too.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘I’ll come too. To see the parents. Of course I won’t go into the house with you, but I’d like to come along, I’m sure you won’t mind; I’ll wait outside. And then I’d like a word with Sundström anyway. I want to do my bit at this point. I’m sure you can understand that.’
    Kimmo nodded. ‘Yes, of course.’
    ‘Give me five minutes,’ said Ketola, standing up before Joentaa had any chance to object. A little later Ketola was at the door, ready to go. He had put on the green jacket he used to wear to work so often, whatever the time of year. Very likely Grönholm had been right in suspecting that he had ten to twenty identical jackets hanging in his wardrobe.
    They went out of the house. It was going to be a hot day. A girl was jumping into a swimming pool in the garden next door.
    ‘I’ll drive my own car,’ said Ketola.
    Kimmo nodded.
    ‘And by the way …’ said Ketola.
    ‘Yes?’
    ‘What’s the missing girl’s name?’
    ‘Sinikka Vehkasalo,’ said Joentaa.
    Ketola looked at him for a while, nodding to himself. ‘Sinikka Vehkasalo. Ah, yes, right.’ Kimmo had a feeling that he had been about to say something very definite, but then he just smiled faintly and waved it away ‘Pia Lehtinen, and now Sinikka Vehkasalo. I’ll follow you,’ he said, getting into his car.
    2
    T he pale green house looked deserted.
    Joentaa glanced over his shoulder, and saw that Ketola had parked some way off and was sitting in his car. During the drive he had been wondering whether he should ask Ketola to be present at his interview with the parents after all, and had decided against it. Now, on impulse, he waved to him, signalling that he wanted him to come