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

‘Now can anyone tell me what Pia needs to improve most, and how she can achieve this?’ Leena looked at the girls. They’d surrounded Pia and were giggling and talking simultaneously. ‘Quiet please,’ Leena said in as calm a voice as she could muster. ‘Please, we only have…’

‘Three days in which to become perfect,’ Pia said, clearly mocking Leena’s voice, but so slightly that she didn’t feel she could pick her up on it. The other girls continued to giggle.

‘Well, I’m glad you know this. Which is why we must get you up to the level of the others!’ Leena looked at the faces of the group of girls: her team that could, Vadi had promised her, win the Friendship Trophy. Leena clapped her hands and told the girls the session was over.

She went into her office and lit a cigarette. She opened a window and let the cold air invade the small space. Turning back, she saw the portrait of the President of the Republic, Urho Kekkonen. It was an old black-and-white picture. The President looked young, but wore the same black-rimmed glasses as he had now at least ten years later. Leena took a deep drag out of her cigarette and wondered whether what she’d agreed to with Vadi was a crime against Finland. Would President Kekkonen approve? Certainly wanting to win the trophy wasn’t wrong, but was helping Vadi?

Heikki was waiting for Pia underneath a street lamp, outside the school gate. She’d decided to bunk off religious studies and home economics. Anyway, she wanted to rest after the training. She needed to conserve her energy. Miss Joutila had made Pia and the other girls go over the programme ten times. Pia made the little ones laugh, as each time they restarted the routine she showed the number on her fingers behind Miss Joutila’s back.

Once, when Miss Joutila was correcting the position of her handstand, Pia wondered how involved with Kovtun she was. Pia had two bruises on her thighs and several smaller ones on her arms but Miss Joutila didn’t take any notice of them. It wasn’t unusual for gymnasts to have bruises. Pia had her fair share, especially as she often tried the more difficult moves. She had covered the marks on her wrists with make-up. She wondered if Miss Joutila knew Kovtun was KGB. What would she say if Pia told her he’d hit and threatened her? What if she talked to Mrs Härmänmaa about Kovtun? Mr Linnonmaa had told her not to talk to anyone about the Russian’s other activities. It could harm him – and Anni. That would also put a stop to the whole competition and that was the last thing Pia wanted. Gymnastics was the only thing she was good at. If she won the trophy for her school she could perhaps get a sports scholarship to America, or become a famous gymnast, or dancer. Someone everyone admired. So she said nothing to either Miss Joutila or the Old Crow. Heikki and the Admiral were the only people who could help her now. She was worried about Anni too. Why wasn’t she back at school? She’d missed three whole days.

Heikki was smoking a cigarette under the streetlight, in full view of the staff room. His other hand was in his jacket pocket.

‘Aren’t you afraid you’re going to get expelled?’ Pia said. She joined her hand with his in the pocket. He put his fingers around hers. His hand was warm. Pia had left her gloves at home that morning and her hands were freezing. It was only half past one, but already getting dark. The white snow seemed to be glowing against the grey sky.

‘Nah, it’s cool,’ Heikki said and kissed Pia on the lips. His nose felt cold against her face. Pia’s knees felt weak.

They walked up to the tram stop. Pia matched her steps with his so that she could still keep hold of his hand inside the pocket. Pia squeezed his hand harder and said, ‘Thank you for coming with me.’

Heikki kissed the top of Pia’s head and said, ‘Anything for you, doll.’

The Colonel sat opposite Iain on the musty-smelling top floor of the Council. He’d been quiet for a long time. His chin rested on his thumbs, palms facing each other, slowly letting each finger touch its opposite number in turn.

‘The boy said he wants to come to the Council?’

‘Yes.’

‘And the woman, what’s her name again?’

Iain sighed, ‘Maija.’

‘She says her daughter was playing in the snow? Playing?’

‘Yes.’ Iain shifted uncomfortably in his light wooden chair. His buttocks would go numb if he was forced to stay put for any longer. He’d been sitting in the office for the best part of the day. First waiting for the Colonel, then sitting opposite him, going over and over the events of the last day. ‘Mr Linnonmaa had telephoned her and told her this story. Now she’s convinced that Pia is not involved in anything untoward, especially not drugs. I think that cover is blown, Sir.’

‘Yes, yes.’

The Colonel was silent again. Iain wondered what he was thinking. Perhaps he was plotting another improbable story to tell Maija. The drug story made Iain look like an idiot. It had also hurt both the women and lost him valuable credibility. Iain watched the Colonel’s grey face behind his slowly moving fingers. From now on he would deal with the women in his own way.

What he found out in Stockholm was playing on his mind too.

‘I was wondering…this business in Stockholm.’

‘Yes?’

Iain hesitated. The Colonel scrutinised him.

‘You knew it would be him?’

After a brief silence, the Colonel said, ‘Yes.’

So Iain was just sent to confirm what MI6 already knew.

‘And the secretary at the Embassy?’

The Colonel bit his bottom lip. He stared at Iain over his glasses.

‘Iain,’ there was smile, ‘I was very glad you spotted that article. Well done.’

The Colonel kept eye contact with Iain. It was uncomfortable, but Iain was determined to get some answers.

Finally the Colonel continued, ‘She was Kovtun’s secretary.’

Iain didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to show how shocked he was. Two bodies already, both women. How many more would there be before HMS Newcastle sailed?

He glanced at the Colonel, who was now pacing the room. Iain knew he was impatient at having to wait. Iain, on the other hand, seemed lately to spend his life hanging around waiting for things to happen, unable to protect or help anyone. That morning he had followed Pia to school, taken the tram back to the Council and was now again waiting for the Colonel to speak. He presumed there was someone outside the school keeping an eye out for the children. But he couldn’t be sure. Iain no longer trusted the Colonel. He suspected an assignment in Helsinki was a low priority in the Colonel’s busy working life. As far as Iain could see it was all going terribly wrong. At least he was sure it was taking more of the Colonel’s time than had been anticipated in London. Iain couldn’t ask, but he kept wondering how they’d come to recruit Kovtun. He was violent – a murderer – and unpredictable. He behaved as if he owned Helsinki. Perhaps that was the key. The Russian had been providing vital information. But was this worth it for the Royal Navy, and to London? Worth all these innocent people getting hurt?

‘What about Kovtun?’ Iain asked. ‘He seems to be keeping an eye on the flat.’

‘Yes,’ the Colonel said. He walked to the end of the room and peered outside. ‘I just think he’s getting nervy. Must have seen you go in and out and wants to make sure you’re not, you know, messing things up for him.’

This was the limit. Iain knew for certain the Russian hadn’t spotted him once. There was more to it than even the Colonel knew, but Iain couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

‘Sir,’ he said, but before he could continue, the Colonel said, ‘At last! They’re here!’