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

‘Oh, that,’ Leena said, and smiled, ‘Of course I knew about you and that woman. It was just a bit of a surprise to see you and her there.’

The man was gawping at her. Leena wanted to laugh, ‘I wasn’t alone, you see,’ she said and got up. She touched Vadi on the lapels of his coat and said, ‘Don’t worry, I won’t say anything if you don’t. Now I must return to those girls, if we are to win, don’t you think?’

When Leena returned to the gym hall, the girls were standing around panting, with their hands on their hips, at the end of the programme. All were watching Leena. She was shaking, but pulled her back straight and lifted her chin, ‘Right, all begin stretching, first quads, then hamstrings, arms and hips.’ None of the girls moved. They were all staring at Vladsislas, who was marching furiously past them all, towards the back door.

‘Do svidanja!’ he shouted from the door and waved his hand in Leena’s direction.

Leena looked down at her boots. She felt her cheeks redden and hoped she wasn’t blushing too visibly. Leena coughed and said, ‘Come along, girls, we mustn’t let you cool down now! A quick stretch, and then one last time from the top!’

Pia’s mother was staring at Leena. For a moment she thought the woman was going to come over and hit her. Instead, she sat down on one of the benches by the climbing ropes and watched as once again Pia pushed up her hands in preparation of the first front roll.

Iain watched Kovtun come out of the gym hall and walk into the centre of the schoolyard. He’d got to the spot in good time. He parked up opposite the main entrance, behind a corner where he still had a perfectly good view of the door to the gym hall. After the initial rush of children arriving for school, the yard was empty. During his wait the car had got cold and his breath was visible against the windscreen. To warm up, he’d run the engine for a while but turned it off just before Kovtun reappeared. Iain wore a felt hat, which he’d bought from a stall at the Market Square on his first day in Helsinki. He’d found it in the corner of the hall that morning and on the spur of the moment thought it might come in handy. As long as Kovtun didn’t walk past him, the Russian wouldn’t spot him. Iain checked his watch: 11.02. Half an hour before the Lyceum girls were due to leave for the Stadium.

Iain crouched down a little further. Why had Kovtun come to the school? To see Leena? Or Pia? Iain watched the Russian walk up the road and disappear behind the sports hall. Iain lifted his head in order to see a little better. He felt in his pocket for the gun. On the other side of the road two men came out from behind the tram stop opposite and walked along the street in the same direction as Kovtun. Iain hadn’t seen them before, but their clothing gave them away. It was one of the few useful things the Colonel had told Iain: ‘The middle ranking KGB all wear standard issue Finnish Tiklas overcoats and fur Cossack hats.’ Iain shook his head. He wondered if Kovtun knew he was being followed.

Twenty minutes later the door to the hall opened and Miss Joutila, followed by five girls and Maija, holding tightly onto Pia, walked from the gym hall towards the waiting bus.

Miss Joutila stepped determinedly inside the bus. All the girls apart from Pia followed. She was detained by Maija, who was saying something to her. Pia shook her head almost imperceptibly, and the two women ascended the bus.

When the bus had left the school car park, Iain waited fifteen minutes. Just in case Kovtun reappeared.

The drive to Myllypuro took over half an hour. It was in the far northeast corner of Helsinki. On the map it had looked a simple enough journey. All along the way, Iain tried to spot the bus.

Finally Iain came to what looked like a country lane. A small sign, marked Myllypuro Jäähalli convinced him he was on the right track. There were snow-covered fields all around, just an occasional two-storey wooden house. It was hard to believe he was still inside Helsinki’s city limits. The road was bumpy too. Iain had to slow right down to avoid the pot-holes.

Finally he saw the modern low-slung building, with Finnish and Russian flags fluttering at the front entrance. Several cars were parked at the front, including a Russian plated bus. It had blacked-out windows, and for a moment Iain wondered how they could have driven the children all the way from Moscow in it. According to Council staff, Finnish tourists venturing over the Eastern border were also transported in buses with blacked out windows. ‘In case we happen to see the true extent of the poverty over there,’ Mrs Cooper had told Iain.

When Iain passed the ice-hockey hall, he saw the yellow and blue bus parked at the front. ‘Thank God, they’re here!’ Iain said out loud in English.

He drove to the other side of the hall where there were steps leading down to a door. The car slid as Iain tried to stop too fast. For a moment he felt the vehicle was out of his control. He took his foot of the brake and found the first gear, while he pulled on the steering wheel and turned the car to face a large refuse bin. The car slowed down as Iain gently squeezed the brake and eventually came to halt.

When Iain opened the car door, he caught sight of something. He pulled himself down, and feeling inside his pocket for the gun, made his way slowly to two large bins standing at the far corner of the building. One was for refuse and one for sand. They should have used the sand on the car park, Iain thought. He could feel his heart pounding from the near accident he’d had. Or was it because of the puffs of smoke he could see slowly drifting up into the cold air from behind the bins? Iain ran doubled over and placed his back against one of the bins. He could now see the car exhaust and hear the low burr of the engine. Somebody was keeping the car warm. Iain didn’t risk checking who; he could guess. He made his way to a set of stairs leading down to the back door of the building. With a little flick knife, Iain managed to open the door; suddenly he was inside a dark corridor. There was loud music and the sound of people walking in the arena on top of him.

Pia was so nervous she couldn’t help join in the giggling of the younger girls. They were sitting in the cold changing rooms waiting for Miss Joutila to speak. They were one of several groups of girls of different ages. Some were still getting changed, some were practising their routines. Miss Joutila stood in front of them, looking down at her hands. They were shaking. Pia grew serious, ‘Miss, can I…’ she began but was interrupted by the gym teacher.

‘Quiet, please.’ Miss Joutila put her hand up and gave them a deadly serious look. ‘You have a great routine and you have worked hard to perfect it. All you must do is go out there and perform. Enjoy the music, smile and give everything you have!’ Miss Joutila ran through the procedure of the competition again, about when they were to enter the stage, when to leave, what to do at the end of the routine. She’d done it so many times before, Pia and the other girls knew it by heart.

When the gym teacher finished speaking, the younger girls jumped up and down and clapped. Without really wanting to, Pia joined them. She wanted to win so badly she felt sick.

Miss Joutila led them through the long corridor towards the arena. As they approached the steel stairs, Pia heard the Russian girls’ prattle from further down the corridor. Just like them, the five girls were walking in an orderly line, with the smallest one in front. She was amazed at the size of the first girl. She could only have been six years old at the most. The tallest girl looked confident. Something about her was familiar. Her brown hair was tied in a ponytail with a bright red ribbon. The sickle and hammer on her costume made Pia shiver. She caught Pia’s look and smiled. Her face, though kind, looked sad. Did she not want to compete? Or was she homesick?