Page 36 of First Snow
He’s so, so screwed.
Tuulia sends him an icy glare as she opens the door to her flat to let him in. Arttu can’t bring himself to care. He’s dead on his feet after flying home from London this morning. He had to get rid of Jareth long enough to snatch his cell from the locker, so Arttu feigned needing to use the bathroom last minute. He just hopes his little charade hasn’t made Jareth suspicious. He doubts it, by the way Jareth had kissed him goodbye tenderly and obviously not in the least concerned thateveryonecould see.
Making his way to the small living room, Arttu flops down on Tuulia’s couch without waiting for an invitation. Tuulia follows him, placing a cup of coffee on the little table in front of him with more force than necessary. Arttu grabs the cup before Tuulia can change her mind and decide he doesn’t deserve to have any. He groans as the bitter taste explodes on his tongue. Maybe the coffee can help chase away the headache that’s forming behind his temples. Dealing with Viljanen had been a pain, and Arttu’s major crime unit is dealing with three cases right now. His life is a mess.
Tuulia sits down on her gaming chair across from Arttu. Her lips, a deep plum color today, are pressed into a thin line. Exhaustion hits Arttu like a truck, and he feels his shoulders sagging.
“I’m sorry,” he sighs.
“As you should be. I was worried sick when you didn’t call back yesterday. I would’ve called Sofia if you hadn’t texted me this morning.”
A new stab of guilt rips through Arttu’s insides. Tuulia can’t stand Sofia. She must’ve been really worried if she was willing to contact her.
“I didn’t mean to make you worry. But I need to find out what happened to Mikael.”
Tuulia frowns. “I’m sure Sofia and her family can afford the best lawyers and private investigators. Why do they have to make you risk your career?”
Arttu crosses his arms in front of his chest. “It’s not like that. Mikael was my friend too, way back when we went to school together.”
Tuulia doesn’t look convinced. “So, you got to know Mr. Faeling?”
“Yeah.”
Tuulia stares at him for some long seconds, then a slow smile creeps over her face. “You’re a reckless bastard. Was it worth it?”
Arttu blushes. “Depends on what you found out.”
“Well, your friend Lord Briar is a shady fucker. Old money. Owns property all over Europe. He has a hunting lodge in Lappland, and spends buckets of money that he pours into dark channels. He buys antiques and art all over the place; did business with Mikael too.”
Arttu perks up. “What did he buy? When?”
Tuulia glances at him, unimpressed. She sets up her tablet PC on the coffee table and calls up several pictures.
“That’s the next fun fact about Your Lordship: he has a huge interest in the occult. He attends posh séances regularly, and he uses the services of a whole parade of seedy healers and shamans.”
Arttu scrunches up his nose in distaste.
“I was able to obtain a list and some pictures of the objects he bought from Laine Antiques.” Tuulia gestures towards the tablet.
Arttu picks up the device and swipes through the photos. There’s art nouveau jewelry, ugly national romanticism paintings, and stone objects displaying the looped square symbol of thehannunvaakuna. Arttu has no idea what they’re used for.
“What are these?”
“Cheese molds.”
“What?”
Tuulia’s eyes crinkle in amusement. “Most of the objects you see here are said to be haunted or magical.”
“Magical cheese molds?”
“You see, that’s the point. I think Lord Briar has a lot of money to spend, but no real expertise regarding antiques or—” She pauses for dramatic effect. “The occult.”
Arttu hums unhappily. He doesn’t like where this is going.
“I think Mikael sold these objects letting Briar believe they were ancient tombstones harboring the haunted souls of Finnish children.”
Arttu lets out a startled laugh. “You’re kidding me.”