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Back to Helsinginkatu 10: Chapter 18 Back to Helsinginkatu 10: Chapter 18
by Thanos Kalamidas
2010-08-13 07:20:41
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18. six photos, three signs, one theory

Pekka returned to the small café just minutes after I finished my second cigarette and returned inside. The Pakistani man had refilled my cup with the same overcooked coffee and this time I had a croissant with some very thin samples of cheese and tomato inside. He sat down and pulled out from the inside pocket a manila envelop that he pushed over the table my way without saying anything. I wiped my mouth and I opened the envelope regretting every single bite of croissant, ban and anything else I had eaten, tasted or smelled the last forty-eight hours.


Pekka smiled. I suppose he had this face hundred of times before, it is the reaction in front the death, especially when the death is sudden and violent like the one in the six photos that there were inside the envelop. Fine, this was some kind of police macho game but I was not going to fall in it, so I drunk a bit of water, then a bit of coffee and I started checking the photos.

In the first photo was Ferah’s body on the grass face down. I looked Pekka with an obvious big question mark on my face, Pekka nodded that it was true, that’s the way they found her. She was wearing a pair of jeans and some kind of light blouse, next to her was her purse, a medium size brown purse, and a blue jacket the thin ones for the rain. The photographer had used flash but there was plenty of light around and strangely a car passing by.

The second photo was closer top Ferah’s face, her eyes still open giving you a really spooky feeling. She was a pretty girl, this exotic middle east beauty with the dark eyebrows and the thin nose. Her mouth was half open and there was the sense of surprise all over this lifeless face. I returned to the first photo before checking the rest and I started looking closer. She was wearing flats, some kind of tennis but not tennis shoes, the ones women wear and what made me look closer was the way one of the shoes was in her foot. It was like it had been forced, it was like somebody had forced this shoe in her foot. I didn’t say anything and move the photo a bit far from my eyes trying to connect the photo with the real place. Then I stopped.

Most people think that psychology is some kind of mind reading that always ends up to something about sex; nothing could be further from the truth. The truth is that you try to spot patterns and then watch them, investigate them, try to find motives and explore them, analyze them. And most of the time with a little help from the lack or experience you get there. But all that comes with a lot of work patience and waiting and the whole thing is a step by step process. The most weird thing is that in most cases everything ends up in sex, suppressed sexuality or libido problems and all the signs were in the very first photo and they were so obvious that I nearly missed them. I still didn’t say anything.

Then I checked the other four photos, all of them had Ferah face up, obviously somebody had turned her so they could photographed the wound on her chest and in the third photo you could see the blood that had let the mark on the grass, the mark I found the evening before and another sign that it took two more photos to notice. Pekka, can I keep these photos? I asked him and he looked at me quiet for a bit. “You saw something.” He answered in matter-of-fact way. I didn’t say anything. “We have a deal.” He warned me and I knew that he was going to let me keep the photos but I had to tell him. It was a game because I was planning to tell him anyway, I just needed my little revenge for his smile when I first saw the photos. You first, I said. I wasn’t going to give up so easily.

“Fine, you were right, she wasn’t killed there, obviously she was killed somewhere else and they just let her there for us to find her.” He had a bit of coffee before continue, “he purse even though money are missing everything else seem to be in order, like somebody knew exactly what to take. All her credit cards are there. The coroner is talking about anger in the way she was stabbed. The knife has gone inside her with extreme force making sure that the wound is deep and lethal. Then he or she…” he added carefully not wanted to exclude any possibility, “pulled the knife and hit again with the same force. The second hit had found heart and she was already dead before the third.”

Before finishing I had put two photos in front of him, the one with the face down and the one when they had turned her. Look carefully, I said. Just try to get out of your uniform and look carefully these two photos. Come on Pekka try to think like me, I’m sure you can see it. Pekka checked the photos again and again but every time he looked more and more confused. Look the first photo, she laying face down but with her legs wide open, there is an obvious sexual hint there and it is setup. Think of it, you carry this body in a street that has traffic all the time with the danger somebody to see you, with lights everywhere, you carry her and then throw her to the ground, think of it. Think that you carry the body, doesn’t matter how small she is, she’s till something between fifty and sixty kilos, so when you lay her down she lays most likely on her side and with her legs definitely together. He …or she – I had to respect this thing he started with the possibility of been a woman – made sure that Ferah was face down and then setup the legs. The legs are spread in an obvious sexual position. Then I moved quickly to the next photo.

Pekka look around you. Pekka looked and there was the Pakistani man serving a policeman who had just entered the little café. He looked at me with a big question in his eyes. I shoed him with my finger outside and coincidentally the very same moment two girls in their early twenties were walking outside with one of them wearing something that looked more like a thick belt than a skirt. Both really light shirts sleeveless with straps. Helsinki the last couple of weeks had been hit from a heat wave and it seemed like everybody was taking off as much clothes they could. Then I showed him again the photo and he saw it. Ferah’s blouse was buttoned all the way to the neck.

Pekka didn’t say anything for a bit, he just checked again and again the photos and then he had a quick look at the other four but he return to the main two and stayed there looking at them. And there is something missing, the third sign, I said with a quieter voice. “what?” he asked quickly. Pekka, where is the veil, the scarf or whatever else. Ferah was a Muslim and from a religious family as I heard. Where is the scarf? “That was your theory from the beginning, wasn’t it?” he said not really expecting an answer. Then we both gone quiet looking at the pretty face in the close up photo with the fine characteristics and the exotic beauty. The night lights and the flash had given her a light bluish green colour which made everything more tragic.



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