Copper Heart by Leena Lehtolainen Page B

machine. “I’ve been so upset myself that I dumped the kids’ leftover cereal in the laundry basket instead of the trash this morning.” Ella’s voice was pleading, as if begging me not to ask about the brooch.
    “Won’t it get ruined in the wash?”
    “It won’t hurt silver. I use a natural soap,” she said before shoving a big piece of bread in her mouth. Stirring my tea, I hoped Ella’s brooch really was in the washing machine and not at the Joensuu police station. You couldn’t buy Kalevala jewelry in town—you had to go somewhere bigger like Joensuu, to a real jewelry shop. Eventually during an interview someone would remember Ella wearing it. I would have to keep an eye on the family’s travel and watch for the brooch to reappear in Ella’s wardrobe.
    “Your friend Pekka Koivu stopped by yesterday. He’s nice. He asked when we left the party.”
    “He probably didn’t press you very hard after you said you left with me.”
    “No, he didn’t. Having friends in the police is good.” Ella laughed, but the pleading was still there in her voice.
    “Thanks for the tea. I should get to work. Tell Matti to take care.”
    I walked through the living room, past the TV where the Snork Maiden was sniffling and Little My was still laughing. Out in the yard, violets and daisies were blooming in pleasant disarray, a chipped porcelain plate lay on the ground with a few drops of milk left in it, perhaps put out for the hedgehogs. I felt like going back in and asking Ella to open the washing machine. If she was lying, why?
    Because the direct route was closed due to the unstable ground around the cave-in, I had to drive around the Tower to get to the police station. The parking lot at the Old Mine was full, including several charter buses. Maybe news of the murder in the county paper that morning had attracted extra tourists. Had Sergeant Järvisalo given permission to reopen the Toweralready? I slowed down enough to be able to glance up, but all I could see was the sunlight reflecting off the Tower windows.
    Hopponen was lounging in the break room at the station and reading the sports pages. This was his idea of playing duty officer.
    “That guy from the county is in your office. Everybody else is out doing interviews,” he said. Over his shoulder, I glanced at the soccer results and the quarter-page ad under them with Kaisa Miettinen launching a javelin into the distance. That spring Kaisa had landed a hefty sponsorship contract—for a female athlete—with one of the long-distance phone companies. I wondered why a phone company would choose Kaisa, since she didn’t seem like the type to spend time chatting on the phone.
    “Ave Maria,” Koivu said, looking concerned as I stepped into the office. “It’s good you came. Um…Did you go home with a man named Jarmo Miettinen Friday night?”
    “I did.” I hoped Koivu didn’t notice me blushing.
    “And this Miettinen is an old flame of yours?” When I nodded, now even redder, Koivu continued. “When I went to question him yesterday, he said he went to his parents’ house for the night and that you were together most of the way. He even mentioned being relieved to have such a reliable witness. Then just a few minutes ago, I happened to talk to one of the last people to leave the party, at two thirty, who said that he saw Miettinen on his way back toward the Old Mine around that time. Three people were leaving right around then, and they all report seeing Miettinen.”
    “Bloody hell!”
    “And that’s not all. I started looking through the notes your boys have been compiling, and I saw that Järvi interviewed Miettinen’s estranged wife. She says she saw Miettinen at theirhouse at about three fifteen, apparently picking up his mountain bike. Mrs. Miettinen heard noise outside and got up to check on things, at which point she saw her husband and went back to sleep.”
    My head roaring, I sat down on my green sofa under President Ahtisaari’s