The next day, Saturday, a message was brought up to Louise and Arnie’s room. Arnie was working sixty-hour weeks, so he wasn’t there. Louise tipped the messenger and quickly opened the envelope. It was a message from Natalya. She knew of a couple vacating their apartment.
She held the note against her chest, doing a little dance, thinking how nice it was to have a new friend who was looking out for her and Arnie.
She ran down the stairs to the lobby to call Natalya at work, as she’d requested in the note.
An hour later, she met Natalya in the small hotel lobby. Natalya was bundled in a thick overcoat and smoking, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She’d obviously walked from her work.
“Oh, Natalya,” Louise nearly squealed. “I cannot tell you how much this means to us. You’re a miracle worker. We’re so grateful. Thank you.”
“First, let’s see if you like it,” Natalya replied. She smiled a bit shyly in the face of Louise’s effusive praise.
“How ever did you find out? Does anyone else know?”
“I have a friend who processes all the routine personnel paperwork. She got wind of a transfer.” She smiled shyly again, looking briefly at the floor instead of at Louise. “She told me, and I asked her if she’d keep it to herself for a day or two.” She gave a little chuckle. “You know, knowledge is power.”
Louise wasn’t sure Natalya was referring to her friend or herself. She didn’t really care.
“Can we see it now?” Louise asked.
Natalya nodded, smiling.
The two hooked elbows as they walked along the icy sidewalk. Louise hadn’t linked elbows with anyone except Arnie since she was in junior high school. It felt good. It was accepted here.
Twenty minutes later, they arrived in front of a beautiful old stone apartment building. Natalya opened the large ornate door and ushered Louise into a small reception area with two stuffed chairs, a side table between them with the ubiquitous ashtray. Waiting for the elevator to come down to their level, she whispered, “My friend told me they’re moving tomorrow. A sudden transfer back to Moscow. I think we know about it almost as soon as they did.” She smiled conspiratorially. Louise smiled back.
Arriving on the fourth floor, the highest, the elevator opened onto the center of a hallway with bare walls. Two apartments on the left and two on the right stood opposite each other. Louise knew that meant they would have a corner apartment if they got it. She waited eagerly while Natalya knocked. A woman opened the apartment door and, looking at the floor, let Natalya and Louise in. It seemed to Louise that they were expected. But, of course, Natalya—or maybe this friend in the office—could have told her. It was clear the occupants were leaving; there were crates and cardboard boxes everywhere.
Natalya was speaking Russian with the woman. The woman looked down, avoiding Natalya’s eyes, and mumbled something. Quickly looking at Louise, she got a coat and scarf and left.
“She needn’t go,” Louise said.
“You need to have some time with the place alone,” Natalya said. “She’ll be fine.”
Louise was walking around, looking out the windows. She could see the harbor.
“Who lives in the building?”
“Mostly Control Commission families. We had two legation families here. This one is returning to Moscow.”
“Didn’t seem like they got much time.”
“It’s usual,” Natalya said quietly.
Louise inspected the bathroom. When she came back, Natalya gave her a questioning look.
“I love it,” she said. “I don’t know how I can ever—”
Natalya stopped her. “It is what friends do.”
Louise nodded, grateful, both for the information on the apartment and for the fact that Natalya had called her a friend.
“Of course, I want Arnie to see it.” She knew it was a formality. As a good army wife, selecting the apartment was her job. Arnie wouldn’t care as long as she liked it.
“Of course.”
“Can I bring him here tonight?”
Natalya gave that all-expressive shrug. “Why not. They’re leaving tomorrow. Everything mostly packed up. The usual routine is for them to stay temporarily at the legation. So, it’ll be empty by the time Arnie gets off work.”
“Oh, I love it.”
Louise made another quick tour. To heck with Arnie. He’d love it if she loved it. And she loved it. “We’ll take it. What do we need to do?”
“You’ll need to talk to the building manager. She’ll have the lease and the keys.” Natalya handed Louise a piece of paper with a Finnish name and phone number on it. “My friend has the names of everyone’s building manager.” Again, the shrug. “It’s part of her job.”
* * *
Louise wasted no time contacting the manager. When Arnie got home that night, she rushed him over to the apartment. The packing boxes were gone. The apartment was empty, the living room lit by a single-bulb overhead light.
Arnie made a quick tour, looking out all the windows. He never even went into the bathroom. “Looks OK to me,” he said. “Is there a lease?”
Louise proudly pulled the lease from her purse. “Six months minimum, a year if we want to lock in the price longer.”
Arnie smiled, shaking his head in appreciation. “You are a treasure.”
She beamed as he looked over the lease. It was written in Finnish. When he got to the last page, he smiled. “It looks like we’ve already agreed to a year.”
Louise looked closely at his face to read his mood.
“You want to celebrate?” Arnie asked.
Louise clapped her hands before hugging him.
Hamilton OK’d Pulkkinen to help Louise move on Monday afternoon, as Arnie was scheduled at Finnish army headquarters for the whole day. Pulkkinen was his usual helpful, stolid self. When the last crate had been deposited in the new apartment, Louise offered him a cup of coffee, a perk of being with the American legation, made on their new stove. Not only was it a gesture of thanks, but she was determined to find out more about him.
She sat a mug down in front of him, poured herself a mug and sat opposite.
“So, Pulkkinen. I don’t even know your first name.”
“Toivo.”
“Does that mean anything in English?”
“Hope.”
Luckily, she’d had a lot of experience starting conversations with Arnie’s relatives. Getting to answers that had more than one word took time.
“Where did you grow up?”
“Kaustinen.”
“Where’s that?”
Pulkkinen blinked. Then he said, “Up north.”
Two words.
“Up north?” She left the question dangling.
“Near Kokkola.”
“That’s where Arnie’s family is from!”
“I know.”
“You know?”
Again, there was this slight hesitancy, just as when he’d used the word “reticence,” as if he’d let something go that he shouldn’t have. He quickly added, “We drivers are briefed.”
When Arnie got back from work at eight o’clock that night, the apartment was strewn with ripped-open packing crates from America. Louise was exhausted. Still, she had managed to go down to the harbor to get a fish, which she fried on the tiny electric stove. It was their first meal at home since they left America.
Later, in their familiar bedding, they made love for the first time in their new home.
Arnie was nearly asleep when Louise pulled her legs off the wall behind the bed. There was no headboard.
“Do you think Pulkkinen’s a spy?”
“Yes.”
She scooted her back against the wall.
“You do?”
“Yes. We just don’t know who for.”
“Arnie!” She shook his shoulder slightly. “Talk.”
“He’s young. Maybe his first assignment. Makes mistakes.”
“He doesn’t seem like a Communist.”
“What does a Communist seem like, Louise?”
“Oh, you know. Sort of shifty.”
“Shifty.” Arnie looked at her a bit incredulously. “Louise, my grandmother, Aino, is a Communist.”
“Oh. Yeah. I keep forgetting.”
“Because she’s not shifty.”
She was momentarily stopped. Still, the thought of Pulkkinen being a real spy was exciting.
“So, do you think he works for the Russians?”
“As I said, it’s a good possibility.”
“There are others?”
“The Valpo, short for Valtiollinen poliisi, Finnish secret police. Their upper ranks are riddled with Russian sympathizers.” He paused. “Could be the English.”
“Arnie! The English?”
“We spy on them.”
“We do? But Arnie, they’re our allies!”
“So were the Russians.”
“Oh, Arnie. Really?” She was leaning on an elbow, looking at him directly.
“Really,” Arnie said, but there was a hint of a smile.
“You’re just kidding me.”
“OK. It’s unlikely he works for the Brits. Besides, they probably wouldn’t have the budget.”
“Whew. It’s bad enough not knowing who’s who around here.”
She lapsed into silence. Then, before he could fall asleep, she asked, “What do you think?”
“About?”
“About the apartment?” she moaned.
“It’s great. I love it.”
“Good. Me, too.”
“How ever did you find it?”
“Natalya heard about it and sent me a message.”
Arnie stiffened. He turned to her, totally awake. “Natalya? How did she learn about it?”
“She has a friend who works in personnel.”
“A friend,” Arnie said flatly.
“She sees all the paperwork about a lot of things, like who’s getting transferred.”
Arnie pulled her ear in next to his lips—a bit roughly she thought—and whispered, “Are you nuts?”
For a moment, she was stunned by his reaction. Then, her stomach dropped. Fear-tinged suspicion flooded her with thoughts. Why had that woman been expecting them and so, so compliant? In retrospect, it seemed like she’d sort of been a little frightened. Of Natalya? No, impossible. But maybe not. Louise realized that she still barely knew Natalya. She felt a little dizzy. Her intuition said Natalya was a friend, but could she trust her intuition in a world filled with disinformation and deceit?
Arnie put his forefinger to his lips. “That’s so nice of her,” he said aloud. “I think maybe you’ve found a friend.”
He got out of bed and began looking around the room, naked. He was on his knees by the steam radiator beneath the window when he suddenly rose, pointing down at the floor. He motioned for her to come over. He put his finger on what looked like a floor bolt and pointed a finger at her to wait.
He went to the dresser, took one of his business cards, went back and slid the card between the bolt head and the floor. It was clearly fake.
He gave her a fierce look. She put her hands to her cheeks, mouthing, “I’m so sorry.”
Arnie motioned her back to the bed, then in a normal voice, said, “How about something to eat? You know how I am after … You know.” His eyes were shooting lightning.
She recovered enough to say, “OK. How about some eggs?”
She scrambled some eggs and made toast in the small electric oven, saying nothing. She felt stupid. She wondered if there was any way of getting out of the lease.
She put the eggs in front of him and sat down. After several bites, he began writing on the margins of the newspaper that was on the table. He pushed it across to her.
There are probably others, his note read.
She wrote, Do you want to get out of the lease? I’m so sorry.
Arnie wrote on the paper again. You should be.
He let that sink in, then he wrote, Could use to send false information.
Louise reached across the table to touch his hand, again mouthing, “I’m so sorry.”
He pulled his hand away.
She wanted to be swallowed by some large animal.