As Red as Blood (The Snow White Trilogy) (11 page)

He couldn’t let that happen.

Because negotiations hadn’t gone anywhere with Sokolov, he would have to try making an agreement directly with Polar
Bear. That wouldn’t be easy. Polar Bear wrote his own rules, and if he didn’t like the way the game was going, he simply knocked the other players off the board.

Terho walked along the Tampere Highway and cursed himself for ever having gotten involved. Not only was it criminal, it was morally wrong. It was, no matter how many mornings he had spent staring out the window while his family still slept, rationalizing how the arrangement had its good sides. For the police force and for the community. He had received information from Sokolov that had helped the police capture any number of dealers and traffickers. They had cleaned up the Tampere underworld so thoroughly that Terho’s unit had received commendations from the highest levels of government. Terho had reminded himself of that as he watched the neighboring homes waking from their morning slumber. The slowly rising sun had mocked his self-deception though. He had to avert his gaze from the sun, pour more milk in his coffee, and look elsewhere as he continued lying to himself.

Back then, years ago, taking the offer had seemed like the only viable option. Gaming debts and unpaid loans hung around his neck. Terho had drifted imperceptibility into a downward spiral of gambling. At first, gambling had been an easy way to relax and clear his head after a hard day at work, but little by little, it became a full-blown addiction. Playing online was far too easy, and he had to play for money so it would feel like something—so he could get the adrenaline rush he needed. He had also had a wife at home with expensive tastes, and at that point, Terho had still wanted to give her all the best the world could offer.

And then there was Elisa, his daughter, whom he loved more than he had ever thought possible. Everything he had done had also been for her. So she would never have to be ashamed of her house or her clothes. Or ever worry about money. Too often as a child and teenager, Terho had been forced to lie and say a pair of flea-market jeans were actually new, or that a coat from his cousin was really from a trip they took abroad. The truth was that his father drank up their middle-class income. Terho had been so ashamed that he’d sworn off alcohol and joined the narcotics police, where at least he could fight against illegal drugs, since there was nothing he could do about the deadly drug called alcohol.

Nevertheless, a predisposition to addiction had been passed from father to son. The need to get kicks from something, fast and without a lot of thought. But Terho had always made sure his gaming didn’t interfere with his family. It was his private, personal vice. He had even succeeded in cutting down how much he played compared to his worst addict years, but that still didn’t mean he could manage without a regular fix.

For the past year, there’d been an additional reason for Terho to cooperate with Sokolov: Natalia. Despite how much younger she was, he was helplessly in love, head over heels like a teenager. He’d known from the beginning that it was crazy and hopeless and dangerous, but he couldn’t resist Natalia’s smile and those big, innocent eyes that you’d never guess had seen so much. He was already mourning the fact that, at some point, he would be forced to give up Natalia’s company, her silky smooth skin, and the dimples in her cheeks.
It was unavoidable. The relationship couldn’t go on forever unless Terho was willing to sacrifice his marriage, his family, and ultimately, his career for it. He wasn’t ready for that, despite having promised her in tender moments that he would leave his wife and begin a new life with her. The promises of a man in love, promises that he could never keep. Natalia understood, he told himself. She was a smart young woman, smarter than she looked.

But Terho wanted to save her. He owed her at least that much. He wanted Natalia to have a better life and not have to work for Sokolov anymore. Terho didn’t know how he would handle it yet, but he was sure he’d figure something out. That was another reason the whole arrangement couldn’t fall apart right now just because the Estonians couldn’t keep their paws out of the piggy bank.

In the park, a painfully cold wind was coming in off the lake, making Terho regret not driving. Even his high-tech down coat was no match for this insanely cold winter.

A work meeting had been cancelled at the last minute, leaving him with a good hour of free time. He’d decided to use it to stop by home and make lunch for himself and Elisa, who was suffering from a migraine or some kind of female issue. Or plain old laziness. Terho had to admit it to himself. His daughter was sweet and popular and the dearest thing to him in the world, but she wasn’t the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree. Maybe a magnet school wasn’t really the place for her after all.

Terho went over his plan.

He would have to contact Polar Bear. The only way to do that would be via e-mail, and he’d have to send it from his home computer, because he didn’t dare send it from work or from his phone.

At the same time, he’d write to Natalia again and ask why he hadn’t heard from her. He missed her so much. The longing chilled his bones even more than the biting wind.

Brown eyes. Bleached hair with just a hint of darker roots. Here and there, streaks lighter than the rest. Hair extensions. Heavily plucked eyebrows. Lips that might be enhanced or might just be that full naturally.

Age: somewhere between seventeen and twenty-five?

In most of her pictures, she struck a serious pose, lips slightly parted. In one picture, though, she was smiling, showing off deep dimples. The smile made her look younger and more vulnerable. In the same picture was a middle-aged man who had exactly the same nose as Elisa. The woman wore expensive clothing that announced how expensive it was. There was one more close-up of the couple, which they’d probably taken themselves with a camera phone, that showed them kissing and laughing. They looked obscenely happy.

Lumikki felt like a voyeur looking at the pictures, which had been hidden rather primitively on the computer. Before finding them, she had already located a username and password for an anonymous e-mail account. The mail folders were empty, though. Elisa’s dad either didn’t use it or—more likely—he always deleted any e-mails after reading them.

“Elisa,” Lumikki called.

Elisa came to the door. Mercifully, Tuukka and Kasper had decided to entertain themselves by playing Wii in the living room.

“Will you close the door please?” Lumikki asked, and Elisa complied. Then Lumikki took a deep breath and continued.

“I’m assuming the woman in these pictures isn’t your mom.”

Elisa wrapped her arms around herself. She suddenly felt very cold. She wanted to close her eyes and not see the pictures, but even that wouldn’t have helped. They were already burned deep into her brain and would be playing on an internal movie screen that night when she closed her eyes and tried to sleep.

How could Daddy do this to her? And to her mom?

Elisa wasn’t stupid. For a long time, she had known her parents’ relationship wasn’t happy in a romantic sense and that they were mostly still together out of habit and convenience. Still, it felt inconceivable to think that Daddy had cheated on her mom. Daddy wasn’t like that. Daddy was honest and honorable and dependable. Daddy was the kind of man who got divorced first before starting anything new. Actually, Elisa hadn’t been as sure about her mom. Elisa wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that her mom didn’t always spend
her nights alone when she was traveling for work. More than plausible, she thought, it was probable.

But Daddy. With a younger woman, barely older than Elisa herself. The whole idea made her sick. Even worse than the relationship was the secrecy and the lying. If it was even a real relationship. It could just be—but why would Daddy have kept the pictures on his computer then? They had to mean something because he wanted to be able to look at them again.

“Maybe . . .”

Elisa heard Lumikki’s voice as if in a dream. What if this was all a dream and she could wake up . . . right . . . now!

The door flew open, and Tuukka and Kasper tumbled in.

“Important girl talk going on in here? Or has our computer wiz actually found something? Woo-hoo.”

Lumikki felt awkward having Elisa, Kasper, and Tuukka staring over her shoulder at the pictures. The worst thing about it was being able to sense Elisa’s embarrassment without even turning around.

“Maybe she’s just . . . or I mean, maybe Daddy’s just . . .” Elisa said, trying desperately to articulate any sort of explanation.

“Let’s face it,” Kasper said. “Your dad is banging some young chick.”

All of their thoughts spoken aloud. Perhaps not word for word, but the bottom line was the same.

“There could be some other explanation,” Elisa said feebly.

Lumikki could hear from her voice that Elisa knew Kasper was right.

“I’d bet anything this has something to do with the money,” Tuukka said. “Two secrets like this at once can’t be a coincidence.”

“But how?” Elisa asked.

“Doesn’t she look a little bit Russian?” Kasper asked. “Maybe she’s a who—sorry, I mean prostitute. Maybe your dad is mixed up in some kind of sex business.”

Elisa shook her head. Looking at her now, Lumikki realized the girl was on the verge of tears.

“Or maybe—” Tuukka was going to take a stab at speculating now.

But just then, the computer chimed to signal the arrival of a new e-mail. Lumikki had left the anonymous account open just in case something of interest happened to come in.

Bull’s-eye.

The sender was using an anonymous account too. The handle, “Beatifulrose,” and a top-level domain name didn’t reveal much. Lumikki read the message out loud. It was written in English.

My love,

I had to create another e-mail address. Just to be careful. Polar Bear is having a party on Friday. Wants you to be there. And so do I. There will be a black car picking you up at 8 p.m. Because the theme is fairy tales and because I know what you like, I’m going as the Snow Queen. I’ve got something important to tell you.

Kisses, N

P.S. Please delete this message right after reading as always. We have to be extra careful.

Tuukka, Kasper, and Elisa looked at each other.

“What the hell does that mean?” Elisa asked.

“Polar Bear, Polar Bear . . .” Kasper repeated. “Oh my God. Polar Bear. Your dad just got invited to one of Polar Bear’s parties.”

“What? Whose party?”

“Polar Bear’s!” Kasper almost yelled. “He’s a legend. I mean, I don’t know much more than that he’s some kind of super big shot who like everyone respects. I’ve heard he runs all kinds of different legal and illegal businesses, and basically no one has ever seen him. The rumors about his parties are totally wild. Apparently, he has some kind of crazy mansion or castle where he hosts these off-the-hook blowouts. Everybody goes. I mean everybody who’s like rich and important.”

“What is this Polar Bear guy’s real name?” Lumikki asked.

Kasper looked at her in amusement.

“How should I know? You’d have to be a serious insider to know something like that.”

“So he’s like a mob boss or something?” Elisa had instinctively lowered her voice.

Kasper spread his arms.

“Well, I doubt he’d want the cops to know about all his businesses. I mean, what do I know? But he’s so rich and crafty that he never gets caught. He never gets his own hands dirty.”

“How do you know about all this?” Tuukka asked.

A satisfied smile appeared on Kasper’s lips.

Lumikki could see that Kasper thought he was way slicker than the rest of them.

“I have my sources. When you spend time on the street, you hear things. And don’t bother asking any more. I get you guys pills, and I get you information. That’s all you need to know.”

While the others were talking, Lumikki copied the e-mail down word for word on a slip of paper and shoved it in her pants pocket.

“Be that as it may, we have to trash this e-mail,” she said. “Unfortunately, it says that it’s been opened once already now, so your dad will know someone’s been in his account.”

Lumikki prepared to delete the message.

Terho Väisänen’s fingers were frozen, even though his gloves were supposed to be Windstopper fabric with all kinds of insulating layers. He tried to warm up his joints enough to get the key into the front door lock.

He thought back on the previous December when it was only a couple of degrees below freezing, with snow falling so gently you almost didn’t notice it. He had been standing with Natalia by a sculpture in Tampella. The sculpture radiated a blue light that made Natalia’s face look ethereal.

They had just gone for coffee. The new housing development on the river was relatively safe. No one that he knew lived there. Neither his wife nor Elisa had any reason to visit. Only people who lived in the area should be around, since it
wasn’t on the way to anywhere else. There weren’t any special stores or restaurants that would inspire people to go out of their way. The coffee shop was just barely scraping by on the euros that local residents brought in. In Tampella, they dared to appear in public together. Even though there were still risks.