‘Unfortunately she has no staying power. She does this and that, she’s always starting something new and never sticks with it. But I suppose that may be perfectly normal these days, I … well, it doesn’t matter now.’ He fell silent.
‘Did she ever mention the cross?’ asked Joentaa.
Both parents looked enquiringly at him.
‘I mean, did she speak of passing the cross? Did she mention the inscription?’
‘No,’ said Vehkasalo, and his wife too shook her head. ‘No, never. Why would she? Why would Sinikka be interested in something that happened thirty years ago? She wasn’t even born then. Anyway, I’m wondering what all this stuff is in aid of. The same psychopath Coming back thirty years later to kill our daughter? Is that your theory, or what have you found out so far?’
‘Nothing,’ said Sundström. ‘Nothing yet. We’re only just beginning. Of course the place where the bicycle was found is significant and there are striking parallels to that case, which does indeed lie far back in the past. But to be perfectly honest, I have to tell you that I’ve never heard of anything similar. For now we know no more than you do.’
Vehkasalo nodded, obviously mollified by Sundström’s honesty, and his wife suddenly asked if she should make some coffee. She was already on her feet.
‘No, thanks very much, not for us,’ said Sundström. ‘When did your daughter set out for volleyball training? Did you say anything to her before she started?’
‘Yes, of course. Kalevi was at the office, but I was here, we had lunch together, then Sinikka went to her training session and I met my sister in town in the afternoon.’
‘What did you talk about during lunch?’ asked Kimmo Joentaa. ‘Is there anything that seems unusual to you now, in the light of Sinikka’s disappearance? Anything she said?’
Sinikka’s mother considered the question for a little while, then thoughtfully shook her head. ‘No, she really didn’t. We – today was the last day of school term, so that was why …’ Her voice broke and she began crying, but went on, ‘Of course we quarrelled over her report and I expect I raised my voice because – well, because we were really quarrelling all the time.’ She suddenly began screaming. Joentaa felt Sundström flinch beside him. ‘Because it was downright impossible not to quarrel with Sinikka!’ she screamed. ‘Because she always wants everything and never gives anything back! And now she’s gone! Now she’s gone away! Far, far away!’ She hit out at her husband, who was sitting there as stiff as a poker. Then she jumped up and ran out of the room. Soon afterwards a door slammed. Vehkasalo stared after his wife, his mouth half open. ‘I’m very sorry, that’s to say – I’m terribly sorry,’ he said. ‘I’d better go and see how she is.’
‘Of course,’ Sundström agreed.
Vehkasalo went out of the room, as if in a trance.
‘Of course,’ Sundström repeated after a while, deep in thought, and he helped himself to a chocolate from a silver dish, ‘Want one?’ he asked.
Joentaa shook his head. He felt tired, and powerless to help the missing girl’s parents. He thought about Sundström and how to some extent he understood Sundström even less than his predecessor Ketola. He had often thought about Sundström and his curious way of making a joke of everything. At the same time he could be very efficient in concrete situations, however difficult, and not at all inclined to joke about them.
Kimmo’s reflections led him nowhere and after a while he found himself thinking of Sanna, who had always been amused by his constant wish to probe into anything and everything, to understand it down to the smallest detail.
He could faintly hear the voice of Kalevi Vehkasalo, obviously talking to his wife in a room at the other end of the house. Sundström, sitting next to him, was munching his chocolate, and Kimmo found his thoughts beginning to circle around Sanna.
An
‘Did she ever mention the cross?’ asked Joentaa.
Both parents looked enquiringly at him.
‘I mean, did she speak of passing the cross? Did she mention the inscription?’
‘No,’ said Vehkasalo, and his wife too shook her head. ‘No, never. Why would she? Why would Sinikka be interested in something that happened thirty years ago? She wasn’t even born then. Anyway, I’m wondering what all this stuff is in aid of. The same psychopath Coming back thirty years later to kill our daughter? Is that your theory, or what have you found out so far?’
‘Nothing,’ said Sundström. ‘Nothing yet. We’re only just beginning. Of course the place where the bicycle was found is significant and there are striking parallels to that case, which does indeed lie far back in the past. But to be perfectly honest, I have to tell you that I’ve never heard of anything similar. For now we know no more than you do.’
Vehkasalo nodded, obviously mollified by Sundström’s honesty, and his wife suddenly asked if she should make some coffee. She was already on her feet.
‘No, thanks very much, not for us,’ said Sundström. ‘When did your daughter set out for volleyball training? Did you say anything to her before she started?’
‘Yes, of course. Kalevi was at the office, but I was here, we had lunch together, then Sinikka went to her training session and I met my sister in town in the afternoon.’
‘What did you talk about during lunch?’ asked Kimmo Joentaa. ‘Is there anything that seems unusual to you now, in the light of Sinikka’s disappearance? Anything she said?’
Sinikka’s mother considered the question for a little while, then thoughtfully shook her head. ‘No, she really didn’t. We – today was the last day of school term, so that was why …’ Her voice broke and she began crying, but went on, ‘Of course we quarrelled over her report and I expect I raised my voice because – well, because we were really quarrelling all the time.’ She suddenly began screaming. Joentaa felt Sundström flinch beside him. ‘Because it was downright impossible not to quarrel with Sinikka!’ she screamed. ‘Because she always wants everything and never gives anything back! And now she’s gone! Now she’s gone away! Far, far away!’ She hit out at her husband, who was sitting there as stiff as a poker. Then she jumped up and ran out of the room. Soon afterwards a door slammed. Vehkasalo stared after his wife, his mouth half open. ‘I’m very sorry, that’s to say – I’m terribly sorry,’ he said. ‘I’d better go and see how she is.’
‘Of course,’ Sundström agreed.
Vehkasalo went out of the room, as if in a trance.
‘Of course,’ Sundström repeated after a while, deep in thought, and he helped himself to a chocolate from a silver dish, ‘Want one?’ he asked.
Joentaa shook his head. He felt tired, and powerless to help the missing girl’s parents. He thought about Sundström and how to some extent he understood Sundström even less than his predecessor Ketola. He had often thought about Sundström and his curious way of making a joke of everything. At the same time he could be very efficient in concrete situations, however difficult, and not at all inclined to joke about them.
Kimmo’s reflections led him nowhere and after a while he found himself thinking of Sanna, who had always been amused by his constant wish to probe into anything and everything, to understand it down to the smallest detail.
He could faintly hear the voice of Kalevi Vehkasalo, obviously talking to his wife in a room at the other end of the house. Sundström, sitting next to him, was munching his chocolate, and Kimmo found his thoughts beginning to circle around Sanna.
An
Similar Books
