Helena Halme - The Red King of Helsinki - Lies, Spies and Gymnastics

But then his tone changed, and he shouted, angrily, ‘The truth, please, Miss Finland!’ His face was so close to Pia’s, she could see the dark stubble on his chin.

Pia felt her face grow hot.

‘Iain is my mother’s friend, and he wanted me to talk to him about, about…’

The Russian man’s face looked worn, his eyes bloodshot, ‘Yes, yes, you not want a hit in face no more, yes? Speak!’

‘About the Friendship Tournament,’ Pia whispered.

‘Why?’ Kovtun asked. His face was so close, Pia was hit by his spittle when he shouted, ‘Tell me, why?’

‘I don’t know. I won’t take part, if that’s what you want. I just want to go home!’ Pia swallowed hard. The reality of the situation was too incredible: the Russian at the school turning out to be a KGB man, now shouting at her, the Colonel asking questions about Anni and her father. Pia couldn’t make any sense of it. Tears were running down her cheeks. They hurt and tasted salty on her lips.

The Russian man stood up slowly, holding Pia’s gaze as if to see if she was speaking the truth. Then he went over to his friend.

Pia watched the two men speak in Russian in low voices. They were standing at the far end of the kitchen. At the table in front of her were dirty coffee cups, several empty glasses reeking of vodka, an empty bottle of something called Stoli and a saucer full of cigarette butts. It didn’t look like Anni’s kitchen anymore. Pia’s face was aching and her wrists were hurting. She wriggled to try to move the rope around them. That hurt even more. Her movements alerted the men and Kovtun came over to the table again. This time he sat down in front of Pia and, crossing his hands, said slowly, ‘We have been watching you and will watch you. So if you tell a lie, we find out.’

Pia sniffled.

The man squeezed Pia’s chin and said, ‘Now, you a good girl. Tell me all about Iain.’ He pronounced the name strangely, as if he was disgusted with it.

‘Ok,’ Pia said and nodded. She told the man all she knew about her mother’s boyfriend. How he worked at the British Council, how he took Pia’s mother out to the cinema, how he helped Pia with her English. The Russian listened to her, smiling the whole time. His face made Pia want to scream out, but she tried to keep her voice calm. When Pia had finished, the man leant close again.

‘You and your pretty materi live all alone in big flat?’

Pia stared at him.

‘You be good gymnast. You listen to Miss Joutila. You go to competition with your school. You keep your nose out of British Council.’ The man spoke slowly, as if Pia would have difficulty understanding his words. Suddenly he stood up and kicked the chair leg. Pia toppled over. She screamed. Kovtun bent down and pushed his face into hers. ‘Any trouble and your Iain and your materi and you will pay!’

Pia wasn’t breathing. She flinched when Kovtun roughly took hold of her arm and lifted her up. The two Russians carried Pia back to the little room.

Pia sat down and let Anni wipe her nose and the tears off her face. Her body felt sore all over. Had she broken anything? She moved her shoulders and flexed her legs. It hurt, but not enough to be broken. She must have dozed off leaning against her friend, because she was startled when the door opened. Kovtun stood in the doorway.

‘Up, you, get up!’

He was holding his coat open to show his gun. They were led out of the room one by one. Kovtun took hold of Pia’s arm. He smiled at Pia, wagging his finger, ‘Remember, pretty gymnast what I say!’ His breath felt hot on her face.

Kovtun tied Pia onto the kitchen chair. She was opposite Anni’s father, who was holding himself upright and watching Pia intently.

The Russian motioned to his comrade to leave the room. Then he said, in a low voice, to Mr Linnonmaa, ‘Mr Diplomat, sorry for trouble! Your friends say we very bad boys!’ He laughed. ‘But no hard feelings, eh?’ he said and winked. He walked out of the flat and shut the door loudly behind him.

Mr Linnonmaa pursed his lips, making a shushing sound. Pia looked at the kitchen. It looked tidy. The table was empty of debris from the KGB men’s drinking and smoking. Even the curtains were drawn neatly. Apart from the faint smell of cigarettes and alcohol, it was as if no one had been there at all.

After what seemed an age, Anni’s father spoke, ‘I’m going to get myself free and then undo your ropes. It’s ok.’ He looked at both Anni and Pia in turn. They both nodded.

Pia was still too afraid to speak but Anni said, ‘Have they gone now?’

‘Yes, I should think so,’ Mr Linnonmaa said, and turning to Pia, added, ‘Are you alright? Did he hurt you?

‘What’s going on? What is this all about?’ Pia asked. She looked at Anni’s father, but he was looking down, neatly putting away the ropes. ‘You must telephone your mother, to let her know you are here,’ he said, not looking at Pia.

She turned to Anni. ‘I think I have the right to know what’s going on?’

‘Pia, of course you do,’ Anni’s father said. ‘I am sorry you’ve got involved in this. Neither of you,’ he made a wide gesture with his arm, ‘should ever have been involved. Looking at Anni, he added, ‘What good fortune your mother is away!’ Pia noticed his wrists were raw from the tight rope and looked at her own. She, too, had marks but much fainter than Mr Linnonmaa’s. How was she going to explain them to her mother? Anni’s father looked down at the floor for a moment, and continued, ‘I will tell you as much as I know, or as much as I can without putting you in any more danger. The fact is,’ his eyes met Pia’s, ‘you must be very careful. Tell me what happened here with the KGB men?’

Mr Linnonmaa seemed relieved to hear how little Pia had been able to tell the man.

‘Good girl.’ Anni’s father put his hand over Pia’s at the kitchen table, ‘It took a little longer than it should, but finally the KGB realised they were making a grave mistake holding me hostage. They should have known better!’ He was now standing upright, with his chest lifted. Pia could imagine him, giving a speech to a roomful of important people. Anni was looking up at her father proudly.

Just then Pia remembered. ‘But I don’t understand. He wants me to take part in the tournament, and last night he tried to grab me in the tram. I’m sure it was him.’ Pia glanced at Mr Linnonmaa and Anni, ‘When I was here the day before yesterday I saw him run past your flat.’

‘Really?’ Mr Linnonmaa was quiet for a moment. ‘Hmm,’ he said and again paused. ‘Don’t worry Pia, he won’t bother you anymore.’

‘But he said he was going to watch me!’

‘Will they come back?’ Anni asked.

‘No.’ Mr Linnonmaa said.

‘But now you must call your mother, and then tomorrow you two,’ he nodded to Anni, ‘will go back to school. It is past eight o’clock already, your mother must be home from work? And remember, you mustn’t talk about this to anyone, particularly not to your mother’s boyfriend, Pia.’

‘Why?’

‘Well. Let’s just say he doesn’t really need to know. The KGB is allergic to the British security forces.’

Pia was stunned into silence, British security forces?

Anni’s father added, ‘I’m going to telephone your mother and say you had some kind of accident outside. Then I’m going to walk you home.’

‘She’s going to go crazy. She’s got it into her head that I’m on drugs!’ Pia said. She was surprised how she just blurted it out.

Anni let out a cry, ‘What? But we don’t touch that stuff!’

‘No, I know, but try telling her.’ It was all too much for Pia and she started to cry. Anni came over and put her arms around Pia. ‘It’s OK, my dad will fix it. Won’t you?’ she said turning around to look at Mr Linnonmaa. He didn’t say anything for a while. He sat down again and drummed the table with his fingers, ‘Why does she think you’re taking drugs?’