The Red King of Helsinki

by Helena Halme

  ‘C’mon Pia.’ Miss Joutila guided her by the arm. The teacher’s face was contorted, her mouth in a straight line. Pia couldn’t understand why Miss Joutila was so nervous. She should be used to competitions like this. It was Pia and the other girls who should be nervous and Miss Joutila, if she were a proper teacher, should calm them down by example. Perhaps she’d had another fight with Kovtun. He’d looked fed up with her at the gymnasium earlier. Well, it was her own stupid fault to fall for a violent man like that. Miss Joutila should have known better.

  The lights of the vast hall blinded Pia as she followed Miss Joutila and the girls onto the stage. As if in a trance she curtseyed to the audience and then to the judges as Miss Joutila had told them to.

  * * *

  Maija was reluctant to let Pia out of her sight, but Pia convinced her that she must go alone into the changing rooms with Miss Joutila and the other girls. The teacher grabbed hold of Maija’s arm and said, ‘She’ll be fine. I promise.’ Maija watched as the girls walked around the building. People were milling around the entrance to the ice-hockey hall. Another larger group of girls alighted from a bus and, giggling, went the same way as Pia and Miss Joutila. A blue and white Finnish flag fluttered next to the red flag of the USSR in the slight breeze. The sun was low and hidden behind grey clouds. Maija couldn’t decide what to do. Should she go after Pia? Iain had told her not to get involved, but to act as normally as possible. Maija shook her head. None of this was normal.

  Maija found a seat right at the front, only three rows from the edge of the rink. The hall was full. She saw a few familiar faces from the school. No Anni or Mr Linnonmaa, though. The stage was decorated with the two flags at the far end. Maija wondered why the Russian one seemed much larger than the Finnish one. Was that a trick of the eye or had the Soviets brought a bigger flag with them? She wouldn’t be surprised if they had. There was a large blue mat in the middle, and a long table with a row of chairs behind it facing the mat. The table was covered with a piece of felt that reached the floor. The judges, five women and two men, were sitting at the table chatting to each other in low voices. One woman in the middle wore black-rimmed glasses and her lips were painted bright pink. While the others chatted across her, she occasionally glanced at the large clock on the side of the hall and then at her wrist watch. She surveyed the hall as people drifted in and were seated. She seemed to be in charge. Suddenly she raised her arm. This silenced the people around her and most of the spectators.

  The woman spoke in Russian and seemed to be addressing a cordoned off area on the opposite side of the hall. It was mostly made up of men dressed in dark suits.

  Next a Finnish man spoke, but Maija wasn’t paying any attention to what he said. Instead she was scanning the hall, trying to spot Iain. He had promised to be there to keep an eye out for Pia. Perhaps he’d gone down to the dressing rooms? Would they let him in?

  When at last the Finnish man had finished talking, all the people at the table got up and started clapping. The group of dignitaries in the hall did the same. Slowly the spectators realised they too should stand up and clap. Finally a group of girls with red costumes and ribbons in their hair ran out into the middle of the mat. The Russian girls stood in a row, the tallest one first and the smallest last, reminding Maija of the Sound of Music children. They curtseyed first to the judges then turned around and did the same to the men in dark suits. Maija noticed a stout looking woman with grey hair pulled into a bun watching the girls from the sidelines and clapping enthusiastically. She must be the trainer, Maija thought. She didn’t look anything like Miss Joutila. Once again the audience was on its feet clapping politely. When the smallest of the girls started running back towards their trainer, the tallest one looked back into the hall searching for someone. She was the same age as Pia, and she had the same long dark hair. Suddenly her narrow face lit up and she waved towards a man standing in the box of dignitaries. The girl did a small skip and a jump, making her brown ponytail bounce, and caught up with the rest of the girls. Maija stretched to see who she’d been waving to.

  She couldn’t believe her eyes.

  The man the girl had waved and smiled to so sweetly was Kovtun. A shiver ran down Maija’s spine and she wanted to get up and go to Pia when the Lyceum girls ran to the centre of the stage and started curtseying and waving to the audience. Maija felt a lump in her throat when she saw Pia in her smart blue costume, smiling up to the hall. How confident and tall she was! And how beautiful! Maija’s heart was filled with pride. The feeling was almost unbearable. She even wished Pia’s father had been there.

  Maija clapped so hard her hands were hurting. Before the Lyceum girls disappeared and Pia ran away, she smiled briefly in her direction, and blew a kiss to her daughter. She looked over to where the Russian was standing. He was clapping politely, showing no recognition of Pia. Maija sighed and once again scanned the audience.

  No Iain.

  Four other teams were introduced, two each from Finnish and Soviet schools. The severe looking Russian trainer seemed to be in charge of all the Russian children, whereas the Finns had a different teacher for each school.

  Everyone sat down as the lights dimmed. The first Russian team of girls ran towards the blue mat. They stood still at the edge for a moment, and then broke into fast rolls and jumps, one girl imitating the next in rapid succession. Even Maija, who knew very little about the sport, could see how talented the Russian girls were. Their supple bodies were able to bend in ways that seemed impossible. When they jumped it seemed that they had springs on the bottom of their feet. Something made Maija look up to the top of the hall and she saw a familiar grey head. Iain was here after all! Maija smiled and turned her head away, relieved.

  When the music stopped, all eyes were on the judges who had their heads down, making notes. After a few minutes, the woman in black glasses lifted her head up and glanced along the line of the table, first left then right. She nodded to Miss Joutila, who had appeared at the side of the hall. Miss Joutila opened the door, and with Pia leading, the Lyceum girls ran to the edge of the mat. The music started, and this time Maija recognised it. A piece from Sibelius’ Karelia Suite filled the hall.

  Maija had tears in her eyes as she watched the competent, but clearly inferior gymnastic display of the Finnish team. Now Maija felt even more anger at Miss Joutila. She had let the KGB agent into Pia’s life and been telling the Lyceum girls that they had a good chance of winning the Tournament. The teacher must have known how brilliant the Russian girls were. Maija looked for Miss Joutila, but now she couldn’t see her. Perhaps she was too embarrassed to stay.

  Maija sat motionless and watched the other teams perform. Each time the Russians were much better. A small girl who performed an individual routine looked as if she was double-jointed as she performed her splits and handstands with a serious expression on her face. The taller, much older Finnish competitor in the individual category moved a couple of beats slower and achieved less complicated positions. Maija wondered what the point of the competition was. The teams were obviously at totally different levels.

  After each performance finished to rapturous applause, the judges deliberated in silence. When it was over, all eyes were on them. The woman in the black-rimmed glasses wrote furiously. Then she lifted her pen and appeared to reread what she had written. Maija saw her turn the page and examine her previous notes. She lifted her head and looked across to the group of dignitaries. She nodded and turned her head right and left, waiting for each of the judges to lift their heads up and nod to her.

  Again she spoke in Russian thanking the town and people of Helsinki for hosting the tournament. The woman sat down and a few people in the hall clapped. Now it was the turn of the Finnish speaker. Maija and the rest of the hall listened in total silence as he announced the winners.

  21

  The Russians are good, Iain thought. He was crouching behind a low wall at the top of the hall. There was a reasonable view of the stage through the banisters. Iain
watched the movements of the tallest Russian girl. There was something about her, but Iain could not think what it was. He racked his brain as the hall filled with Russian balalaika music.

  Earlier, Iain had spotted Maija settling into a seat at the front. He’d seen her look upwards, but he didn’t think she’d seen him. That was good. He knew his time was running out. The performances would soon end and the Colonel would welcome Kovtun onboard. The ship’s company was ready to sail that evening.

  The music stopped. During the silence Iain moved closer to the stairs. If someone had spotted him, it was best to move about as much as possible.

  The Lyceum girls entered the stage, led by Pia.

  Suddenly Iain saw the connection.

  Iain opened the door very carefully and glanced behind him. No one was watching him. The whole of the hall was holding their breath, willing the Finnish girls to do well. Iain shook his head and started running down the stairs. He hoped the music in the hall would conceal the rattle of his footsteps on the steel staircase.

  When Iain reached the corridor once more, a door further down opened. A matronly woman came out and locked her hard eyes on him.

  ‘Hello,’ Iain said in Finnish.

  The woman didn’t reply. She folded her arms over her considerable frame and surveyed Iain. The door she’d come through was left ajar. Iain heard someone talking in Russian. There were giggles, and a man’s raised voice. The corridor smelt strongly of sweat and disinfectant. The woman moved to call to someone inside the room, when a door close to Iain opened. It was Leena, ‘Here you are!’ she said and smiled. She nodded to the woman and said ‘Zdravstvuite’ in Russian, and then in Finnish, ‘my husband.’ She motioned to Iain. Once inside, Leena locked the door behind them.

  ‘What are you doing here? You’re not allowed come into the girls’ changing rooms!’ Leena hissed. ‘That was the Russian trainer!’

  ‘I’m sorry, I needed to talk to you,’ Iain said.

  Leena surveyed him, ‘And how did you know where the girls’ changing rooms are?’

  ‘Aren’t you supposed to be up there watching the girls – watching Pia?’

  Leena looked down at her hands, ‘I’m too nervous.’

  ‘Ok,’ Iain looked at his watch. He had no time for female logic. The Open Day was due to start in one hour fifteen minutes. It would take half an hour to drive back to Helsinki from here.

  ‘Leena, could you go back up to the hall.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I think Pia is in grave danger. We must stop Kovtun.’

  Leena was staring at Iain, ‘I don’t understand. What are you talking about?’

  ‘Miss Joutila, this looks bad, I know, but trust me.’ Iain took a deep breath and continued to hold Leena’s gaze. ‘I have Pia’s best interest at heart and I believe she’s in danger, in grave danger.’

  Leena continued to look at him.

  ‘Please, Leena, believe me, I’ve only told you what you need to know. Kovtun is a dangerous man. He has already killed a secretary at the Soviet Embassy and an innocent young woman in Stockholm.’ Iain bit his lips. He was taking a big risk telling Leena all this.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Leena was shaking her head, ‘I knew he was a liar, but…if what you say about him is true, how can you alone stop him?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I can do it. Now, you must go!’

  Leena’s eyes darted from Iain to her hands and back.

  ‘I’d better get to the girls,’ she said finally.

  ‘Please, Miss Joutila, Leena, bring the girls down here and wait for me.’

  ‘What are you saying – that Vadi is planning to hurt Pia? But why?’

  The music stopped, and they heard the start of the enthusiastic clapping from upstairs.

  ‘There’s no time to explain, just make sure you bring Pia back here.’ Iain nearly pushed Leena out of the changing rooms.

  * * *

  The corridor was empty again. Iain tiptoed past the doorway where the Russian woman had stood, walked to the end and then out into the cold. The sun had set while they’d been inside the hall and it was dark. There were no street lamps at the back of the ice hockey hall. Iain climbed the steps slowly, all the time keeping an eye on the bins to his left. Following the brick wall of the building, he made his way slowly to the bins. Some of the snow had frozen in clumps and made a crunching noise as Iain stepped on it. He cursed silently and stopped each time it happened.

  He didn’t see evidence of the car until he came right up to the container wall. First he smelled the exhaust, and then he saw the floating puffs of smoke. Iain froze when he heard voices. He moved forward and knelt beside the container. A man and woman were arguing in Russian. Iain hid in the shadows between the lights from the ice hockey hall windows and a street lamp on the edge of the car park. He heard a car door slam, then the muffled sound of steps on the snowy car park. He crawled between the wall of the hall and the container. From here he had a clear view of the headlights of the car. Iain heard the steps go past the container, then recede. If Kovtun was going to go back to the changing rooms, he’d catch sight of Iain crouching in the snow as he descended the steps. Iain crawled towards the headlights of the car. He got back on his feet and, staying close to the wall, made his way towards the second container, trying to walk normally. As he passed the car, he caught sight of a frightened woman’s face inside the passenger seat. She was alone in the car, her face turned away from him. Iain turned the corner out of sight and stood for a while, catching his breath. His feet felt weak and his hands were trembling. He now had a clear view of the main car park at the front of the hall. The Russian bus with its covered windows had started its engine.

  Iain tried to think. If Kovtun was about to use Pia, how would he get her? Was he mad enough to think it would work? He had to get back to Pia. He started running towards the front of the sports hall. He slipped in the poorly sanded back car park and landed on his hands. It stung. He heard steps behind him.

  As Iain tried to scramble to his feet, a hand grabbed his collar and pushed him back onto the ground. His mouth filled with snow and ice. He tried to kick but the weight of the man was on his back. He tried to lift himself up and turn around, push away whoever was on top of him, but his back was punched. Iain tried to shout out, but a gloved hand grabbed his jaw.

  ‘Silent, or I will kill you.’

  Kovtun, Iain thought as the Russian pulled him up and started walking towards the girls’ changing rooms. He felt the gun against the back of his neck. Iain’s blood was rushing in his ears. He tried to keep calm as Kovtun pushed him into an empty changing room. Iain stumbled, nearly losing his balance, but managed to turn around. He tried to punch Kovtun’s face but instead saw the raised hand with the butt of the gun pointing towards him before he fell down.

  * * *

  Pia was grabbed so quickly she didn’t even have time to scream. When she tried, no sound came out of her mouth. It was as if her throat had dried up. She’d seen surprise in Miss Joutila’s face and then she was grabbed. Next she was dragged along the corridor. She’d seen Kovtun’s dark eyes staring at her briefly before he’d pushed her face against the rough brick wall, pulling her left arm high up to her back. It hurt and she let out a whine. The rough wall was scraping her cheek. There was a burning sensation on her face. The Russian pulled Pia’s other arm to join the left and pushed her whole body harder against the wall. Pia managed to scream. Now the Russian’s lips were behind Pia, close to her, whispering in her ear, ‘Quiet now, little Miss.’ He smelled of vodka just as he had done at the Linnonmaas’ flat. Pia tried to kick him from behind but the Russian was strong. He pushed his leg up against Pia’s knees to stop her from moving, and stuffed something damp into her mouth. She tried to bite the hand, but couldn’t through the foul-smelling cloth. It was wet and tasted sweet. The rope against her wrists was hurting, but at least her face was released from the rough wall. Now the Russian got hold of her waist and hoisted her up, while holding the cloth up t
o her mouth. She had a heavy feeling in her head. The brick walls of the corridor whisked by. She tried to struggle, but Kovtun pulled tighter on her wrists and pushed the cloth deeper into her mouth. Pia thought she was going to suffocate. She tried to kick again, but her legs felt heavy, as if she had weights around her ankles. The Russian eased his grip on her mouth and Pia saw her chance to scream, but when she tried she could not summon the energy. She managed to keep her eyes open, but couldn’t make out anything. It was dark and cold. She felt like crying. Now there was cold air on her sore cheeks and she realised they were outside. She tried another shout but couldn’t find the energy to open her mouth. Then she realised it was already open but had something in it. Pia bit into the strange-tasting cloth. She saw a bright light and they were moving towards it. Next, she was propped up inside a warm place. She tried to focus, but all she could make out were vague shapes. People? Who? She felt a sensation that they were moving, that she was no longer being held in the Russian’s grip. Then everything went black.

  * * *

  Leena ushered the girls into the changing rooms and shut the door. She was out of breath, and panting hard.

  ‘What’s happened, where’s Pia?’ one of the girls asked.

  She glanced over her shoulder at the four girls huddled in a corner of the changing room. Leena turned around and smoothed her skirt over her boots. She said, ‘Girls, it’s time to get dressed!’ Leena tried to keep her voice steady. The girls looked up but didn’t move. ‘It’s OK, she’s just gone to see her mother.’