Lucifer's Tears (Inspector Vaara Novels)
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From the acclaimed author of Snow Angels comes a new novel featuring Inspector Vaara.
Inspector Kari Vaara has left the Arctic Circle and returned- reluctantly-to Helsinki, where headaches and sleeplessness plague him. But he must work through the pain. He has two cases on his plate: the brutal murder of a Russian businessman's wife, and-more secretively-an investigation into an elderly Finnish national hero who may have played a darker role in World War II than the public knows. Vaara's past has turned him into a haunted man. The questions he's asking now may turn him into a hunted man as well...
where she’s from and she said Helsinki, which was a sham. I called her a liar and told her I could tell she’s from the Kotka area. She called me a cocksucker.” “It’s funny how so many people in Helsinki are from somewhere else,” Milo says, “but pretend they’re from here.” “They want everyone to think they’re big-city sophisticates, instead of small-town rednecks. It’s the Finnish innate sense of shame. I think some of us feel guilty just for having been born.” “Yeah, we can be like that,” he
Fucking Ivan bored Iisa. She decided to do him a favor, and let me do it for her. Iisa even convinced Ivan to hire me to work at Filippov Construction. I became, in a manner of speaking, part of the family.” “I understand that you worked for Iisa’s father as a Bettie Page look-alike escort. Could you tell me about that?” She stands and dons her coat. “Inspector, I’m tired and have shopping to do. Let’s save that story for another day.” Much as in my dealings with Filippov, I have the feeling
conciliation. “Mary is right in part. Finland was forced to decline Marshall Plan aid to avoid confrontation with the Soviets. The USSR had its own economic aid plan, called Comecon. However, Finland wasn’t included in it. We would have gotten nothing, but the U.S. government sent aid in secret. Clothes. Food. It saved lives. As an example of how desperate we were and how much it helped, after the war, my father and his brother shared a pair of shoes. They had to take turns going to school every
bad.’” Kate’s composure dissolves. She grabs my head in her hands and pushes her face against mine to stifle the sound of her sobs. She spits out broken words. “Mary was abused and forced to do awful, disgusting things. I don’t think she even remembers what happened.” I pull her closer. “If she doesn’t remember, maybe it’s for the best.” She wipes snot and tears off my neck and onto her bathrobe. “Do you believe that?” “I don’t know. Maybe.” “And I thought she’s happily married, and maybe
blood droplets that I estimate are an average of two millimeters in size.” I hear the front door open, then voices. The forensics team is here. Milo points. “Look at this little spot on the wall,” Milo says. “Whatever the killer used to hit her smacked it and left a small tongue-shaped bloodstain. Given the clothes in his closet, I’d say Rein Saar beat her to death with a riding crop.” “A good guess,” I say. I go to the closet, get down on my knees and look at the floor. A bloody crop is