Her Enemy Read Online Free PDF Page A

being a stupid ass. Was it supposed to be my fault that someone killed Armi?
    Unless…unless Armi’s parting words the previous night had meant something other than her wanting to gossip and ask me nosy questions about my relationship with Antti. What if Armi had wanted to talk to the lawyer and former police officer, notcompare wedding plans? Maybe someone who didn’t want us talking had gotten to her first. Someone who was at the Hänninens’ garden party and heard us arranging our two o’clock get-together.
    I was trying to think of who might have been listening, when the phone rang.
    “Hi, it’s Kimmo,” said a frightened voice.
    “Kimmo! I’m so sorry. Do you want to come over? Or do you want to talk to Antti?”
    “No, I want to talk to you. They’ve arrested me for Armi’s murder. Will you be my lawyer?”
    “Arrested? Did you do it?”
    “No!” I could hear he was crying. “But I…Come here, Maria, and I’ll explain.”
    “Come where?”
    “The Espoo police station.”
    “Is there a police officer close? Give the phone to him for a minute. I’ll be there as soon as I can, hopefully in about half an hour. Try to keep it together that long. Don’t say anything to them.”
    The officer guarding Kimmo was terse but would at least tell me that Kimmo was under arrest for suspicion of the murder of Armi Mäenpää, with sufficient evidence to hold him.
    “Is Detective Sergeant Ström available?”
    “He’s at the suspect’s apartment.”
    I didn’t bother calling Ström. The most important thing was to get to Kimmo and calm him down. Arrested for murder, sufficient evidence. Kimmo being the murderer was logical. It was usually someone close to the victim. Did they have a fight? Was he drunk? But picturing Kimmo as a strangler was a stretch.
    Figuring this was an extreme circumstance, I headed down to Antti’s office and knocked on the door before entering. He was lying on the sofa staring at the ceiling.
    “I’m sorry for bothering you, but Kimmo called. He’s under arrest and needs a lawyer. I’m going to the police station.”
    “Kimmo? I’m coming with you.”
    “They won’t let you see him. Stay here. You can probably call the Hänninens now, since Kimmo is in custody.”
    “But it doesn’t make any sense. Kimmo! Are they complete idiots?”
    “Can you call me a taxi? I have to change clothes.”
    I dressed, did my hair, and threw on some makeup in record time. After five minutes of furious activity, I stood in front of the mirror with a competent young lawyer staring back at me, the hungover party girl buried under a layer of concealer and blush. I penciled in my eyebrows, preparing for battle. The taxi was waiting in the driveway, and within a quarter of an hour from receiving Kimmo’s call, I was in the police station.
    Detective Sergeant Ström had arrived in the meantime. I explained my position, and he sized me up as he would an enemy.
    “Well, your common sense is going to tell you Hänninen is guilty too, when you see him and hear what he was doing when we found him,” Ström said ominously. “He claims he left Mäenpää’s place at twelve fifteen, that she was alive and painting her nails, but of course she was already dead by then. And the jerkoff was celebrating what he’d done!”
    Now I was lost. Ström’s harsh language was surprisingly unprofessional. But I started to catch on to what he meant by “jerkoff” once he led me to the small interview room.
    After the bright sunshine outside and in the glassed-in lobby, the interview room felt dark, with dim overhead lights. Kimmo sat in the gloom like a shiny black shadow, his curls standing out in a frizzy golden halo.
    Then I realized what Kimmo was wearing: a rubber suit, overalls that looked like a wetsuit, only thinner. I thought he must be cold, because his face looked blue and withdrawn.
    “What the hell are you wearing?” I asked Kimmo. I snapped at Ström, “Were you in such a damn hurry to arrest