The Red King of Helsinki

by Helena Halme

  ‘I’m afraid I must go.’ Both the men stood up and the Colonel took Pia’s hand. ‘Goodbye, you’ve been very helpful.’

  ‘You must go now.’ The woman took hold of Pia’s arm. She handed her the down jacket.

  * * *

  And then Pia was standing in the cold, dark street outside. It occurred to her that she hadn’t asked any questions, or had any answers to what was going on with Anni or what kind of trouble her father was in. Or how the Admiral knew Anni’s family. And there was no mention of how talking to the Admiral would help her win the Tournament. Pia shivered and started walking towards the Esplanade Park, when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Pia jumped and turned around.

  ‘Heikki!’ her voice sounded too high, it was such a shock seeing him. Besides he still had his hand on Pia’s shoulder. He looked very serious.

  ‘What were you doing up there?’ he said.

  Pia looked back at the unassuming building, then back at Heikki. He was wearing the same tight jeans and leather jacket he always wore. He still had his school bag hanging off his shoulder. He’d obviously not been at home. Had he been following Pia all the way from school? His eyes were grave, but his mouth, this close to, looked full. His lips were moist as if he’d just licked them. His jaw, the bit of his face that she always thought about last thing at night, had faint stubble on it. Then he pulled her closer to him and bent his head towards hers.

  Pia would never tire of kissing Heikki. It was as if he wanted to suck all air out of her and when he let go, she felt breathless. Then he did it again. The second time it was longer, and Pia felt less like fainting, more as if she was sinking into a warm, soft lake at the end of a hot summer’s day. When he let go this time Pia had her eyes closed. When she opened them she saw him smiling at her.

  ‘Have you got any money?’

  ‘Yes,’ Pia said. For a change she did have some. Her mother had been unusually generous yesterday and had given her a whole twenty marks note.

  ‘Give it to me,’ Heikki said when Pia pulled the note out of her pocket. He looked at her and smiled again and said, ‘I’ll pay you back.’ He took hold of Pia’s arm and led her through the park to the newly opened ice cream bar and café called Happy Days. Everybody at school had been talking about it, especially Sasha, who had, of course, been there on the day it opened. Next time she bragged about it, Pia could just casually say, ‘Oh yeah, it’s a cool place, isn’t it?’

  ‘Oh, you’ve been have you?’ Sasha would say incredulously.

  Everybody knew how little money Pia and Maija had. The last thing they’d be spending her mother’s earnings on was overpriced coffee and ice cream. ‘Yeah, Heikki took me there.’ Pia would say and walk away. Pia smiled at the look Sasha would have on her face.

  Sitting opposite Heikki, sharing a banana split, Pia felt prickly all over. Was this their first date? Pia didn’t dare ask. She watched him eat most of the ice cream, but it didn’t matter, she wasn’t at all hungry. Instead, she looked around. The place was a bit like a Russian tearoom she’d seen in films, from before the Revolution, with glass walls that arched halfway up the ceiling. There were large palms all over the vast room, and round tables, with French-looking decorative chairs. It was very full of noisy people. Pia felt as if she was abroad somewhere and not in the middle of cold, dull Helsinki at all. Then she remembered her mother.

  ‘I’ve got to go.’

  ‘Oh,’ Heikki said. He’d just taken another mouthful of ice cream. Pia waited for him to suck at the cold stuff in his mouth and giggled. He swallowed noisily and said, ‘Don’t go yet, I need to talk to you.’

  Now he was serious again. He put the spoon down, leaving an untouched ball of chocolate ice cream on the plate in between them. He looked at it longingly, and lifted his eyes to Pia.

  ‘You never told me what you were doing up at the Council?’

  ‘The Council?’

  Heikki looked long and hard at her, and shrugged his square shoulders. He glanced at a table of loud boys and girls, people they didn’t know. Pia had been in love with Heikki for as long as she could remember, or at least since the beginning of last year. Pia couldn’t believe she was finally here on a date with him. She wasn’t going to spoil it with talk of the Admiral.

  ‘I don’t know what Council you’re talking about – I’ve just been to the dentist up there.’

  6

  Iain looked up at the chilly air hanging above the tops of the bare trees of the South Esplanade. He stamped his feet against the pavement. His black boots were slippery on the icy Helsinki streets. He was glad that Maija had insisted he should buy a new, warmer overcoat. It was made of grey felt-like material, and Maija had added a dark, burgundy-coloured scarf and warmly lined gloves to his purchases when they were shopping at Stockmann’s. ‘These will keep you from getting frostbitten,’ she’d said and squeezed his arm. Maija couldn’t understand why he was so reluctant to acquire the items of clothing, but Iain resented having to spend his own money on winter clothes. MI6 would have to reimburse him. Not that he’d had time to talk to the Colonel about his clothing worries; there were operational issues to worry about. His time ashore was always an issue, as he was officially naval personnel. To be seen at the Council would give a clear indication of the Colonel’s ‘other duties’. Though Iain supposed everyone, at least on their side, knew what he was really up to.

  Maija had taken Iain shopping after they’d met for lunch. Her concern for his welfare had stung after what he’d just done, but Iain reminded himself that he was working for his country and must, as the Colonel had said, put his personal feelings aside.

  The bank where Maija worked had been bigger than Iain expected. Rows of cashiers sat on either side of a grand hall. In the middle were large pillars against which grew tall green houseplants. Maija hadn’t seen him at first. Iain had to ask a woman at the first desk, which turned out to be Foreign Exchange. The spectacled woman had nodded to the far end of the hall, where Iain spotted Maija’s dark head bent over some paperwork.

  ‘Oh, lunch?’ she’d said, looking at her wrist watch.

  Iain had sensed the eyes of the cashiers on him as he talked to Maija. ‘I thought we’d try The Old Baker’s on Mannerheim Street. I hear it’s very good.’ Iain had hoped taking Maija to an English-style pub would divert her attention from the impromptu nature of his suggestion.

  The place had turned out to be nothing like an English pub, apart from it being fairly dark, even in the middle of the day. The dimness suited his task, though.

  The conversation with Maija had been the difficult part. Taking a five hundred mark note from her handbag had been easy. He’d done it while she was in the lavatory. That had been what convinced her in the end. She’d found the money was missing when they were sitting in a café drinking coffee after the shopping. On his way back to the office that afternoon he’d felt strangely deflated. Was it this easy to control people’s lives?

  * * *

  Iain watched Pia cross the Esplanade Park with a lanky boy who was wearing a short leather jacket and jeans. They entered the coffee place and Iain sighed. He looked at his watch. It was three minutes to six and he knew this wasn’t going to be a short wait. The wind was getting up, the Arctic chill tightening around his body. He considered his options: the drunken act, brisk walks around the block or surveillance inside the café. Though the last one was the most comfortable option, it was too risky. Pia was a smart and observant girl. She’d notice him straightaway, however dewy-eyed she was about that boy.

  Seeing a well-dressed couple, huddled close to one another, walking towards him along the pavement, Iain started to sway, catching the woman’s eye.

  ‘Hey,’ Iain shouted in a blurred voice, and he faked a loss of balance with the effort of waving his hand.

  The woman looked alarmed and nudged the man. Immediately they changed the course of their stride and went to cross the street instead. Briefly, Iain had seen a look of wary recognition, ‘Not another drunk!’
<
br />   After the couple disappeared down the park, no one came close enough for Iain to have to re-enact his drunken role. But he was frozen and needed to pee badly. He cursed his lack of foresight in not visiting the lavatory at the Council premises. Now he’d have to wait until he saw Pia was safely at home, and then walk the two blocks to his own rented flat. He thought of Maija, how worried she’d be because Pia wasn’t home yet. Now her concerns would be raised even further. His, or rather the Colonel’s, plan was working.

  Just then the door of the café opened and Pia and the lanky boy came out. They kissed slowly, long enough for Iain to check his watch again. Twenty-seven minutes past six. Pia and the boy held hands for another few minutes and then Pia turned abruptly and started walking directly towards Iain. It was fully dark now and Iain was glad for the lights in the Esplanade and Pia’s white jacket. He stepped backwards deeper into the shadow of the porch and watched Pia cross the street and ascend an almost empty tram. It left an echo from its squeaky brakes behind as it turned the corner and trundled up Erottaja.

  Something about the near-empty tram disturbed Iain, and he knew he should have run to join Pia, but his need to pee was making him misjudge things. He hurried to the Happy Days Café. Coming out moments later, relieved, he decided to get out of the cold and go back home. He’d check Pia’s lights were on. He could make up some excuse or other to telephone Maija. Surely tonight would still be quiet, he thought, and ran to an approaching tram. When the tram was passing the corner of the Council, he caught sight of the leather jacket and jeans he’d seen before. He cursed and pulled at the cord. The next stop was not until the top of Erottaja. By the time he’d ran down the slippery street to the Council, the boy had disappeared. Iain dug his keys out of his trouser pocket and gently opened the heavy glass door to the Council building. He held onto it before it swung shut, letting it gently close without a sound. He waited. Iain had spoken to the Colonel about the need for a night guard at the Council. This was, as he now knew, the nerve centre of the British operations in Helsinki, and not one single person was here to look after it at night!

  ‘Now, that would be like putting an advert into the Helsingin Sanomat, “KGB officers please note that MI6 can be found at the following premises.” ’ Iain remembered how the Colonel had laughed heartily at his own joke, nearly choking on his beer and the open sandwich he was balancing between his fingers.

  The Council hallway smelt of floor polish. Iain stood silently listening to the sound of the empty building. He could see the swirly shapes the female cleaner had left behind with her threatening-looking machine. Apart from the glow of the street lamps outside, there were no lights inside the hall, or on any of the floors that Iain could see. He stretched his neck round to peer further up the stairwell. There was absolutely no point in even considering the lift, but by tiptoeing with his back to the wall, Iain could see the carriage was on the 4th floor. He sighed heavily, knowing it was bad news. The boy was involved too.

  Iain walked quietly out of the building. Outside, he double-locked the heavy glass door from the outside, and hurried along the South Esplanade towards the South Harbour. There was nothing for it; the Colonel would have to be informed about this.

  * * *

  ‘Collins what are you doing here?’ The Colonel said. His face looked flushed. He was in the middle of his supper.

  ‘The boy, Miss Mäkelä’s boyfriend, is inside the Council,’ Iain said.

  ‘How do you know?’ the Colonel was staring at Iain.

  ‘Saw him enter.’

  ‘And?’ The Colonel was fidgeting in his chair opposite, still holding a knife and fork in each hand. Iain told him the whole story. He raised his eyebrows when Iain mentioned being inside the Happy Days Café. ‘Sir, if I’d followed my original instructions and pursued Pia, I wouldn’t have spotted him at all,’ Iain said.

  ‘I’ll send a couple of men to the Council.’

  ‘Thank you, Sir.’

  The Colonel put his knife and fork down and took a file out of his desk. ‘Since you’re here, I’ve got another little job for you.’

  Iain was puzzled. Surely he had enough to do?

  ‘A little trip will do you good,’ he said and handed Iain the folder. ‘I’ll speak with the inspector over there. Shouldn’t be a problem for you.’

  Iain listened carefully as the Colonel explained what he wanted Iain to do. Then the Colonel got up, and Iain followed his example.

  ‘Well done, Collins,’ the Colonel said. For what, Iain wondered.

  Suddenly he remembered.

  ‘The tram!’ Iain said and jumped up, past a startled Colonel. He made his farewells and began running towards the nearest tram stop.

  7

  Maija sat at the kitchen table looking out of the window to the dark streets below. She heard a tram run past in the distance, its wheels echoing against the old blocks of flats in Ullanlinna. She hoped she’d see Pia’s white jacket turn the corner of the house opposite. She’d timed it. It usually took Pia four minutes to reach home from the stop. The clock on the wall opposite said five to seven – only twelve minutes had passed. Maija sighed. What if Iain was right and Pia was in trouble? She couldn’t believe her daughter would get involved like Iain said. But five hundred marks had disappeared from her purse. On the other hand, Pia had looked genuinely surprised when she’d confronted her last night. Was she telling the truth? Iain had said that drug users get desperate. Or maybe Pia’s friends are in trouble and she was protecting someone. Perhaps Iain was overreacting. In London drug use must be commonplace among the young, but surely not in Helsinki? Particularly not at the Lyceum! The school was ranked the best in the country, and Maija had worked hard to get Pia there.

  There was a slim chance Pia had gone by Anni’s instead of coming straight home from school. Maija would have to phone her parents. They were well to do Embassy people. It would be embarrassing. All the other kids in the Lyceum were from wealthy families, they had everything they could want. Did that really include drugs? But Maija had been determined that her daughter get a good education. It was her only chance. In the bank where Maija worked, she’d watched young university-educated girls come in and bypass her on the career ladder. The personnel manager, Miss Kourtamo, had told Maija there was no point in applying for managerial posts. ‘Your degree is not in a relevant subject, I’m afraid, Maija.’ There was pity in the pale-blue eyes behind the rimless glasses. ‘But we are very happy with your work as a cashier,’ she’d said, closing Maija’s file. Maija could feel her cheeks burn even now at the shameful memory of it. The woman had talked down to her. Yet the bank was better than going back to her former career. Anything but that.

  As well as the drugs, there was the Soviet Gymnastic Competition. How would Maija be able to stop Pia taking part? She was ambitious, which was good. But Maija knew the Russians could not be trusted. She could not stop Pia without telling her everything. It was too soon for that.

  She sighed and dialled Anni’s number.

  There was no answer.

  ‘Sorry to have bothered you,’ Maija said and replaced the receiver.

  Maija wondered if she should call Iain. She could see he was fond of the girl, but it was still difficult to burden a man with the demands of rearing somebody else’s child. Especially a teenager. Iain was kind, and loving, but would this prove too much for him? Maija didn’t want to frighten him. It was enough that he’d warned Maija.

  Maija put her coat on. She couldn’t sit at home doing nothing. Iain was right. Pia must be involved with drugs.

  * * *

  Pia sat in the tram, recalling Heikki’s kisses on her lips, the taste of the ice cream he’d eaten in her mouth, oblivious to the dreary blocks of flats and the cold and dark streets floating past. She hummed Love me Tender, a soppy song Mum turned the radio up for. It wasn’t often you heard foreign songs, especially American ones, on Finnish radio, so when the occasional old one came on it stuck in your head for days afterwards. Pia kept reminding her
self of everything Heikki had done and said, how he’d looked at her after their long kiss outside on the pavement. Pia had felt his trousers bulging and knew he wanted her. When would there be another party at Sasha’s house, where they could be alone? She must try harder to be friends with her.

  Pia was so engrossed in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the man sitting right behind her, until he reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped up and tried to turn around but the man’s hand got hold of her neck. Her eyes darted to and fro. There was no one else on the tram.

  ‘Be good girl, Pia. Sit still.’

  Pia tried to let out a scream, but it was more like a mouse’s squeak. Pia smelled the man’s warm, sour breath, as he whispered hoarsely into her ear, ‘No sound.’ His hand squeezed tightly on her neck. She didn’t move or say a word. Her mind raced. How did the man know her name? The tram turned the corner of Tehtaankatu and he pressed the bell with his free hand. The driver looked briefly at them through the mirror. Pia wished she’d winced or made a face, done something to alarm him, but it was too late, he was concentrating on slowing down for Anni’s stop. The hand let go of Pia’s neck and the man said, ‘You get out with me.’

  Pia got up and tried to look at the man’s face. But he held tightly onto her neck and she was unable to turn her head. He said out loud, ‘C’mon, girl!’ Then to the tram driver, who was staring at them with a passive look, ‘...Daughters!’

  ‘Goodnight,’ the tram driver said, without smiling.

  As Pia stepped out of the tram, the man gripped her arm, pushing it high up behind Pia’s back. He steered Pia towards the top of Tehtaankatu, towards Anni’s flat. It hurt. ‘Be quiet and follow me,’ the man said. Ahead of them, coming from Kasarminkatu, the direction of her own flat, Pia saw a woman, waving her arms, running down the road, as if to stop the tram from moving away. The man quickly let go of Pia’s arm – the woman with the brown Ulster and curly hair escaping from the fur hat was her mother.