یک زن خطرناک؟

Chapter four

A dangerous woman?

At midnight Munro was standing in the shower in his room at the Lahden Seurahuone. He let the hot water run down his body, washing away the troubles of the day.

There was still no message from Naylor. Virolainen’s death had stopped one line of information. Naylor would need time to find another.

Munro turned his thoughts to Riitta Koivisto. She seemed to believe his story that he worked for a bank and was in Finland on holiday. She said she worked for a company called Bioratkaisut. She was only an office worker so she didn’t really know what the company did. It was something biological, but she didn’t know what. She lived in Nastola, seventeen kilometres outside Lahti, and at eleven-thirty she had left to get a taxi home. Without knowing why, Munro did not believe much of what Koivisto had told him.

Munro stepped out of the shower, drying himself on the large white hotel towel. It had been a long day and he felt tired. As he looked in the mirror, there was a soft knocking at the door. Looking through the spy hole in the door, he saw short blonde hair and a bright white smile. He tied his towel round his waist and opened the door. Riitta Koivisto was standing there, a glass of whisky in one hand and a glass of jaloviina in the other.

‘There were too many people waiting for taxis,’ she said, so I came back. I thought you might like a bedtime drink.’

She held out the glass of whisky.

Munro took the glass, smiled and stepped back, letting Koivisto walk into the room. She passed very close to him as she came in. Munro shut and locked the door.

Munro drank a little whisky and put his glass on the table next to the television. Koivisto put her glass next to his. Then she walked up to him and put her hands on his shoulders. She pulled him towards her, kissing him full on the lips. His arms went round her, one hand reaching up, his fingers running through her short blonde hair. He kissed her back, hard.

As his lips came away from hers, he said: ‘Friday night’s always a problem for taxis.’

‘Shh’ she said quietly, putting a finger to his lips. ‘Don’t talk.’

She stepped back a little, freeing herself from Munro. Then she reached behind her neck, pulled her jumper off and let it drop to the floor. She reached forward again, behind Munro’s head, her hand pulling him down, towards her. ‘Don’t say another word,’ she whispered.

Munro woke up suddenly. He felt terrible. His mouth was dry. His eyes hurt. He had a headache. He looked around the room. It was light outside but this was Finland, the land of the midnight sun. Even in April the days were long. What time was it? What had happened? Why did he feel so bad? He got out of bed with difficulty and made his way to the bathroom, trying to find his watch. On the way he stopped and looked round the bedroom. Riitta Koivisto. That’s right. He remembered having a drink with her in the bar and he remembered her coming to his room at midnight. They had made love. But then what? There were two empty glasses on the table by the bed. He picked them up and smelled them. They did not smell unusual. He found his watch. It was already midday. He hadn’t drunk very much last night so he shouldn’t feel as bad as this. Had she given him some drugs to make him sleep? But why would she want him to sleep? He opened the wardrobe. His clothes were in different places. He looked in the drawers. She had searched here too. His suitcase had moved. She had looked in there as well.

He got into the shower and turned the water on. A thirty-second cold shower woke him up completely. He took two aspirin to clear his head, drank about a litre of iced water from the mini-bar and dressed quickly in jeans, a light blue denim shirt and a brown leather jacket. As he was putting his jacket on, his phone made a sound. He had a message.

CALL ON SAFE LINE

Naylor had found a new way into the problem. Munro was back on the job.