Harjunpää and the pyromaniac, post 4

I've had quite busy time past couple of weeks: babysitting my elder nephew on two days last week; on the weekend my parents arrived, on their way to a trip in Germany; on sunday, most of the day passed in the science park with my brother's family, my sister and my parents; on monday, a highly enjoyable photography trek in the backlands of the city (or what felt like the backlands of the city) and taking my elder nephew to his parkour training in the evening; yesterday babysitting the nephew again. In the meantime watching football World Cup as well. 

Time for another installment of the crime novel photos now, whilst waiting for the laundry. Just one scene now. This takes place soon after the events of the previous post, after an unsuccessful nightly stakeout in the neighbourhood by Harjunpää and another detective of the criminal police. I was going to post about the stakeout as well, but couldn't find Harjunpää's post. If it was there in the late 70s, I'm sure it's been cleared away to make room for new buildings. I have no reason to believe that Joensuu invented the spot, because his books are very every day realistic. He worked in the Helsinki police force for decades until his retirement in 2006, in the arson unit and in violent crimes if I remember correctly, so I'm sure he became very familiar with the unfortunate side of life. Harjunpää's stakeout post is described as a copse of willows, apparently originally intended as a barrier against the din of the nearby Kustaa Vaasa road but ending up as a site of disturbance: full of wrecks of stolen bikes, fridges etc.

Note: the young woman in this scene speaks a regional dialect which I can't possibly replicate in English. A professional translator very familiar with dialects might replace the dialogue with a regional dialect of his/her own country, but as it is, I shall have to just go for generic English. The dialect clearly reveals the young woman to be someone who came to Helsinki to find a better, brighter future, as so many did especially in the 60s and 70s.

 

Harjunpää is waiting by a street corner, near Intiankatu street; hearing footsteps and seeing a shadow approach, he presses himself against the wall, ready for the intruder. It turns out to be a young woman, pregnant and due to give birth soon. She reminds him of her wife Elisa who is also at the last stage of pregnancy.

"'God!', the woman sounded out; she was only six feet away from the corner. She leaned against the wall with her left hand and shielded her belly with the right. The woman had a straw-blond, long hair, and wide face with a small, perk nose. There were wrinkles in the corners of her eyes, as if she'd laughed a lot. Now her expression was frightened, almost panicked. Ashamed, Harjunpää felt it was his fault. 'I'm sorry. And evening,' Harjunpää said, smoothening his hair, trying to be as polite and official as possible to calm her down. Then he realized that to a stranger he had to look like some kind of a guerilla, a burglar at least, with all his gear.

'...ning', the woman swallowed, examining Harjunpää as closely as he did her. Harjunpää began to feel that she was seeing his thoughts as clearly as Elisa but wasn't bothered. Rather, he felt relieved - sensed that he wouldn't need to give more explanations. 'You know, I was thinking I was about to be robbed. Why'd you jump back like that, like you were meaning to spy on me?' 'I didn't mean to. I'm really sorry. I guess I thought that some villain was coming.' 'Me, a villain?' She giggled... ...He noticed he was thinking, too, that if the woman had had braids and a red-chequered scarf on her head, she could've been the young mistress of a farm in some film, calling in her cattle for the evening milking, with a mother-in-law scheming her evil schemes behind her back."      

 

NOTE: The street here, Limingantie, is the right street, and the first of these two pictures shows the right spot: the house where the young woman lives is described as being located at the end of the street. All the houses around there seemed newer, though, so I'm sure the building would have been either thoroughly renovated or razed to the ground and a new one built instead.

Harjunpää agrees to walk the young woman home, discarding his policeman's suspicion that she's a robbers' decoy.

'Where do you live then?' 'Just close by, at the end of Limingantie here. You know the large wood houses? Right there. In the last one. Come along, I want to get to bed.' She slipped her arm around Harjunpää's and practically began to walk him. ... 'I'm Vappu. You can call me that if you like.' 'I'm Timo. But most people call me Timppa.'

'How come you're getting home so late?', Harjunpää asked, chewing a leaf which he'd picked from a rowan tree that arched over the street. 'I was at work.' 'Shouldn't you be on maternity leave?' 'Yeah, I should, but it's not a proper job, just babysitting on Mäkelänkatu.' 'And you walked all the way from there?' 'Right. They did give me money for the bus but I saved it after all.' Vappu whisked her purse. It was made of plastic, simple, the cheapest you could find for sure.

Harjunpää felt sorry for Vappu, for no reason. 'My wife's expecting too. I think due very soon like you. She's... well, she's in a better situation because she has a job and maternity leave.' 'Oh, you want a boy or a girl?' 'Well, it doesn't matter. We already have a girl - she'll be three soon.' 'Well, a boy would be nice then. I'm hoping for a boy. And that's what it'll be. My behind has got wider the way it always does when it's a boy.' 'Oh, I wouldn't have guessed on that basis.' 'Oh, you...' Vappu giggled again. 'You did notice.' Wrinkles appeared in the corners of her eyes, just like Harjunpää had guessed.

Most of the street lamps at the end of Limingantie had been broken. The street narrowed; now it felt like a real country alley. They got to the middle of the street between the parked cars, and Harjunpää no longer needed to shield his head from the branches reaching over the fences.

'Timo, I only got to Helsinki this spring. I haven't had time to get a job. But after I've given birth to Henrik, then - we'll get a proper home. With a balcony and electric stove and everything. And we'll buy a tv too. But first I'll get a job of course. I'm good at sewing', Vappu said, brushing her dress. 'I could go to one of those fashion houses, where fancy ladies shop. That's what I'll do.' 'Alright. Yeah, it's good to have things planned out,' Harjunpää said. He felt a pain go through his mind but tried to sound cheerful. Without asking, he knew that Vappu had become pregnant in Helsinki, and suspected she had no idea who the father was; if she had, the man must have been married, or one of the guys hanging around the railway station who cared about nothing.

'I guess you're not very old', Harjunpää said. 'No. I'm only 21. And that's why I've got a chance. I've plenty of time to try out things.' Harjunpää made an agreeing sound. 'Yep. That's what Oiva says too, that I just need to keep on trying. I live with Oiva. He's not my man. Not a fiancee either. He could be my grandad. But he's good - he took me in to live with him, 'cause I've nowhere else. He's on a pension. And I'm taking care of the household and other people's kids... Here's where we live.'

They stopped on a narrow path. The house stood on a hillside rising towards the woods. It was large and sombre, filled with nothing but dark, like a giant's coffin. Harjunpää breathed out. He should've guessed that Vappu could only live in one of the monstrous three-storey wooden houses.

... At regular intervals the long wall had doors leading into the house. Each had an identical set of wood step, identical rain vizors covered with roofing felt. By the nearest steps stood empty beer bottles and a dented accordion. The furthest doors were indistinct, vanishing into the dark. 'Which one's your door?' 'That second one over there. And second floor too. You know - I've been thinking. Henrik's going to be an economist. Or an athlete. Agrologist would be good too. What do you think?'

'Yeah. Come on.' To his surprise, he didn't want to know what the unborn Henrik would become; the very thought made him strangely anxious. They went up the stairs. The door wasn't locked. It was swollen, hanging from the top hinge, and didn't close properly. There was a smell of molten wall insulation, and a faint tapping came from the top floor, as if someone'd been trying to get in without waking the neighbours. Wappu turned the light switch, to no avail. Harjunpää lit his dynalite. Everything in the hallway was depressingly brown: walls, stairway, railings. 'You ok if I keep the light on for a bit?', Harjunpää whispered as if fearing that the house was listening. 'I can find my way in the dark too. Thank you. And good night.' 'Good night, Vappu. Take care of yourself and Henrik.' 

Vappu climbed the first few steps, then leaned on the railing as if drained of all energy. 'I'm so scared', she suddenly said. 'I don't know what's going to happen. I'm not going to find a job... I've been trying... and I can't really sew either...' 'Come on now.' Harjunpää touched her palm with his fingers. Vappu's eyes seemed smudged in the torch light. 'I'll never make it,' she sniffed. 'I can't bring a baby to a room the size of an outhouse. And I don't dare go home - everybody would laugh and mock me. And Oiva's on heart pills. I've got to call his sister in Lahti when he dies. I'm so alone...' 

...Harjunpää waited. Nearly a minute passed before Vappu's sniffling calmed. 'Everything's going to be alright, believe me,' Harjunpää said. 'The kid is worth struggling for. And kids always bring luck. And besides. You could go to a mother-and-baby home. They help mothers like you there, who don't have... an apartment or a job. You should find out.'