Chapter 59
Elea parked Maria’s car outside Porvoo police station.
The squat, utilitarian building stood solemnly in the quiet night.
It was set just off the main road, its brick exterior weathered by relentless Finnish winters.
The air was crisp from a recent snowfall, the roads sparkling from newly formed ice.
Tense with trepidation, Elea pushed through the door into the warmth of the station lobby.
It was eerily quiet. She nodded at the front-desk officer.
“Evening,” he said in response. The broad-shouldered man was called Markku, and he spoke with little emotion as he keyed something into his computer from behind his security glass.
He recognised her sufficiently not to question her movements as she let herself inside.
She kept her expression neutral, despite the stomach-churning events taking place.
Fluorescent lights lit her way as she walked down the dim corridor, the outside cold still biting through the material of her jeans.
A faint smell of stale coffee hung in the air and Elea’s fingers brushed the walls as she passed, grounding herself in the rough texture as she planned her next move.
The armoury was at the far end of the hall, past the large open-plan office where local detectives worked during the day.
Porvoo wasn’t as busy as Helsinki and tonight the room was faintly lit by the glow of computer monitors in sleep mode.
The unpaid hours she had spent in that office, working between there and Helsinki, chasing dead-end leads.
Hours wasted in the search for her child.
But now it was bearing fruit. Her heart felt like a metronome: strong, steady, and relentless in her search.
Her earlier earworm still played on a loop: Anu is alive.
Anu is alive. She reached the armoury door, touching the cold metal of the security keypad.
The beep of each number echoed in the silent corridor as she punched in the code.
Something about this felt so familiar that she almost expected Heikkinen to sidle up behind her, smelling of coffee and cigarettes as he asked what the smoking hell she was up to.
The lock clicked as the door was released, and she pulled it open.
The smell of metal and gun oil offered comfort as she assessed the rows of locked cabinets lining the walls. Each one was marked with the name and badge number of the officer assigned to them. Elea found hers quickly. She had no time to waste.
She gripped the familiar weight of the Glock 17 in her hand.
The pistol was standard issue, a light and reliable model.
Its polymer frame and steel slide were built for durability.
Elea knew every facet of this weapon. It had served her well.
She always felt more powerful when it was strapped to her side.
It held seventeen rounds of 9mm ammo, enough to face whatever lay ahead.
She wrapped her fingers around the textured grip.
There was no manual safety clip to fiddle with.
All she had to do was pull the trigger, if it came to it.
She recalled Maria’s face and hoped that it wouldn’t.
Her mind swirled with conflicting thoughts, her emotions in turmoil.
She inhaled deeply to steady herself, but her thoughts still raced ahead.
The tracker on the mobile phone displayed an address.
She knew exactly where she needed to go, and it wasn’t that far from here.
She clipped the holster to her belt, the leather cold as it touched her bare hip.
She shoved the extra magazine into her pocket.
Her grip lingered on her gun. It felt heavier tonight, the weight of responsibility pressing down on her.
She prayed she was wrong about Anu. It couldn’t be him.
He was the first to be taken. How could he turn round and do the same thing?
Yet it felt as if a long-missing piece of the puzzle had clicked into place.
Either way, Anu was involved, and Elea would get the truth out of him.
She recalled the sight of his room, left just as it had been when he disappeared.
The clothes in his wardrobe, the row of Velcro-strap shoes.
How could she tell Maria the real reason why her son was on the run?
She turned to leave, catching her reflection in the glass door of one of the nearby offices.
Her face was serious, but streaked with worry.
All the hours she’d spent analysing paperwork, retracing steps, linking each case.
All the people she’d looked into, both here and in the UK.
Broken mothers. Criminals who put a price on human life.
She had seen the worst of humanity, and she wasn’t done yet.
She walked towards her car, her skin prickling from the sudden return to the cold.
She fixed the phone in place and turned over the engine.
A sudden beam of headlights made her blink.
She exhaled in relief as it passed. She would take things steady.
Snow-chains had been fitted to the tyres of Maria’s car.
She’d need them where she was going: To the cabin, deep in the woods.