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Petri might be an experienced store detective, but the role

of father trumped the professional. It was a mistake to take

anyone into your life whom you’d start to care about.

“And the blonde? Is that your current girlfriend?”

“Milla? No. She works for Jansson. Sometimes picks up the


“Do you ever hand things directly to Jansson?” “Tomorrow

it’s his turn to come again. But please don’t get the police

mixed up with this. I beg you—” Petri raised his clasped

hands over his head for a moment—“this is about my child!

Merja’s already lost one and VP is more or less gone. Needs

a new liver, but with what money?”

I faked a Santa’s ho-ho-ho. “Let the elevator move again

now. Back to the first floor. Don’t try to follow me. Leave a

message at Merja’s counter where and how you’re meeting

Jansson. How much does he still need?”

“Three thousand. Can I get up to press the code?” “No


“Who are you, really?” Petri asked when the elevator door


“I’m Santa Claus. You’d better believe in me.”