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!’
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.