“No.”
“He fought the Soviets as a Finnish soldier, but when Finland signed a peace treaty with Soviet Russia, he was dissatisfied with the terms. Finland declared war on Germany, their former ally, but Torni joined the Waffen-SS in 1945, so that he could continue to fight Communists. He undertook saboteur training in Germany in 1945, so he could organize resistance if Finland were overrun by the Soviet Union. He surrendered to British troops near the end of the war, escaped from a British POW camp and returned to Finland. When he arrived, Red Valpo arrested him. He was sentenced to six years in prison for having joined the German army, with which Finland was at war. An act of treason. President Paasikivi pardoned Torni in December 1948.”
“I’ve read about Torni, but never thought of him as a traitor.”
“Few of us have. He was a hero. He went on to fight for the U.S. in Vietnam. He fought under three flags. Can you think why he might have done that?”
“Because he was a warrior.”
“Perhaps. But I think also because each conflict he participated in gave him the opportunity to kill Communists. He was a professional Communist hunter. You might consider Arvid Lahtinen, your grandpa and all White Valpo detectives in the same way, as Communist hunters. If you think of them in that light, perhaps you won’t judge them so harshly.”
My head starts to pound. “I need time to absorb this.”
“If I can be of more help,” Pasi says, “don’t hesitate to call.”
I thank him, and leave him to work in his scholar’s jail cell.
24
I step out onto Ratakatu. The temperature has dipped to near minus twenty again. A little snow is falling. My phone rings and I answer.
“It’s John.” His voice quavers.
“Hi, John. How’s my new best buddy?”
“I’m in trouble. Please help me.”
The disclosure comes as less than a bombshell. “Anything for you. You know that.”
“I’ve been robbed.”
This strikes me as suspicious in the extreme. I test him. “I’m near a police station. Get in a taxi, then call me back. I’ll give the driver the address and pay him when you get there.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
I thought not. “And why might that be?”
“Please come and get me. I’ll explain then. I can’t go far. I’m outside and don’t have any shoes, and my socks are wet. I’m freezing.”
No shoes? I have him walk to the nearest corner and spell out the names of the cross streets. “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I say. JOHN ISN’T FAR FROM JUTTUTUPA. I make the short drive and pull over to the curb. John hops in. He’s the picture of misery, takes off his socks and pulls his legs up so he can warm his bare feet with the car heater. I park the car in a space next to the water. “Let’s have it,” I say.
“I went for a walk and was headed toward downtown. A guy mugged me. He took my boots.” He sniffs. “I loved those boots.”
“He didn’t take your wallet?”
Head shake. “No. But he took the money in it.”
“The truth, John.”
He wants to concoct a better lie. He reads my face, knows I won’t buy it. He averts his eyes, stares at the floor of the Saab.
I roll down the window and light a cigarette. Frigid air turns the car into an icebox, and barefoot John shivers in misery. I don’t care. “You promised me you wouldn’t upset Kate,” I say.
He sighs. “I wasn’t trying to. It’s a long story.”
I check my watch, have an hour until I meet Milo. “I’ll make time for it.”
“I’m not a teacher anymore. I lost my job a few weeks ago.”
Big shock. “And?”
“It wasn’t all a lie. I was a Ph. D. candidate with a doctoral fellowship. I was a graduate teaching assistant and a good one, but I showed up drunk to teach a couple times and got warnings. Then I got tanked at a party and let a freshman seduce me. Word got around. I got fired.”
“You should have taught at a Finnish university. You can fuck your students.”