Code Name: Kalistrat

by Arno Baker

  Everyone agreed and a recommendation to Beria was immediately drafted to that effect. The note also requested that the internal investigation be deferred until the most pressing problems had been solved. To everyone’s surprise Beria’s answer was positive and he approved the reassignment and internal reprimand for the two officers with the option to reopen the investigation and bring both men to trial if expedient. Word went around that Semyonov and Ovakimian were being held in limbo and the old hands saw that as a lucky reprieve and nothing more.

  Kvasnikov reconvened the special team within hours to check on the progress they were making.

  “All right Feklisov, let’s work out a revised plan and a timeline for the ex-filtration of the Rosenberg network. The main problem is that we are in a race for time with the FBI.”

  Feklisov was ready with a few details,

  “The New York resident ordered the case officer to hand Rosenberg $15,000 in small bills to shut down a certain number of situations. The most urgent action is to encourage Greenglass to apply for his passports and leave for Paris on the French liner Ile de France that sails in three weeks, therefore just in time. The back-up, if there is no time for passports will be to leave for Mexico City by bus. He will not need a passport to cross the border into Mexico. From there we will take him to Switzerland or Sweden.”

  Yatskov agreed,

  “If Greenglass refuses to leave he will be arrested sooner or later and Rosenberg will follow right after that. You can be sure of it.”

  Sukhudrev looked at the men on the team, his face was becoming more somber as they kept on discussing the difficulties of the network and the family friction that existed between the Rosenbergs and Greenglasses.

  “Yatskov, you met Greenglass, what do you think? What kind of person is he? Will he cooperate?”

  Yatskov twisted his mouth and said,

  “I saw him once in 1945 for just a few minutes in a car, he impressed me as being very young, in his early 20s. He was enthusiastic, and clearly was interested in money unlike Julius who was a true believer. I didn’t have that impression with Greenglass, he was not a real ideological agent, just an informer for hire and he didn’t have any in-depth knowledge of the material or the necessary background in physics to grasp all the nuances. But he readily acknowledged it so I also rated him as clever, and intellectually honest, and only moderately intelligent. Now Julius, his brother-in-law, mentions a marked drop in party loyalty and interest in party ideology in his reports. I would say that Greenglass may probably be ready to crack like Harry Gold.”

  Everyone nodded and Feklisov commented,

  “Right now, if the Americans play their cards correctly they can sweep up the entire network in a few days. We are only a few small steps ahead of them but since Greenglass is so close to Rosenberg...I’m not sure. We need a backup plan for the worst case scenario.”

  But Kvasnikov disagreed,

  “Maybe we still have a big enough window. I think the FBI will play the waiting game for a few more weeks, because it is in their interest to have more agents fall into the net. They must be convinced that we applied the strictest rules to make sure that the networks are parallel and not interlocked. Once they interrogate Gold in depth and run into that anomaly then everyone will be in jeopardy. So right now, either they already know and are hesitating to jump in and lock up everyone as they should or they don’t yet know because Gold has not been properly debriefed. In either case I think this gives us three to four weeks at the most

  ...but not much more.”

  Feklisov disagreed,

  “We are now May 29 -- that’s the situation. With all due respect, I disagree, Kvasnikov. My best assessment is that Greenglass must leave by June 10 and Rosenberg two days later with his wife and children. That‘s the logical time limit.”

  Yatskov was nervous and kept on fiddling with his pencil as he took notes and doodled on the margins,

  “I worry that if Greenglass doesn’t leave promptly, Rosenberg will also delay and both will get caught. What a bunch of amateurs! And by the way, their sense of discipline and duty is absolutely shameful.”

  Abakumov was becoming impatient and his voice had a panicky quiver when he spoke, everyone looked at him nervously,

  “Well, offer them both more money, if that’s what it takes! We just can’t sit back and watch this thing blow up in our face!”

  Feklisov was the one who had the longest relationship with Julius and his group, as the network’s case officer throughout the war years, longer than any ordinary espionage relationship. This gave him an unusually detailed and credible insight into their potential reactions.

  “It‘s not the men as much as the wives! They will fear the unknown more than anything. Greenglass’s wife has been very sick and hasn‘t fully recovered so I don’t see her agreeing to leave the United States. The husband is a weakling who is completely under his wife’s spell. If you read Gold’s report of his meeting with the Greenglasses you will notice how, “Ruth Greenglass grabbed the envelope from my hand like a bird of prey. She said ‘I need this money!’ and I thought that David must have been a severely henpecked husband.” So, I would predict that both women will refuse to leave and the men will end up doing the same.”

  Yatskov was taking notes in his ever present little notebook. Once Feklisov stopped and there was silence all around he said,

  “Well, it may already be too late to get them all out but we must try anyway or do something else.”

  Everyone agreed.

  XXIV

  Once the boys were tucked away in bed Julius and Ethel sat at the dining room table late that evening. He had turned up the radio so that their voices were covered by the non-stop patriotic music that was on all day. The children were finally asleep and Julius opened a large brown paper bag and lined up the neat packets of used twenty and fifty dollar bills in stacks of one hundred each noting the totals on a piece of paper and counting them again slowly, one by one. Then he stopped and turned to Ethel who was looking at him as he was counting the money.

  “I‘ll give Davy $4,000 tomorrow. I hope that’ll be enough of an incentive to encourage him to go. He’s so indecisive and politically he seems to have been floundering.”

  Ethel shook her head disapprovingly,

  “Are sure you were firm enough with Davy? You know how weak he can be especially if he’s worried about Ruthie. She‘s still not herself and can’t be much help in convincing him as she usually does. But they need the money very badly so I think there may be a way to make him decide. The question is what do we do? Must we also leave, Julie?”

  Julius knew that Ethel who for all her party loyalty and rigid discipline was also reluctant to abandon the place she knew best, her family and the neighborhood where she had grown up and gone to school. It was a simple, natural reluctance but it also had to do with her state of mind and the chronic illnesses that bothered her. In spite of the fact that the machine shop Julius and David were running was not generating enough business to be worthwhile, she was unable to hold a steady job because of the chronic fatigue she suffered from.

  “I know it‘s no use to bring this up now, Ethel, but I was nervous about David all along, right from the start. All those pep talks and sessions we’d have to motivate him and then having to get Ruthie involved! It didn’t feel right, somehow. Had they not insisted and been so enthusiastic...maybe we wouldn’t have this problem today. Davy is the weakest link in the chain…”

  Ethel knew very well how Julius reacted to all adversity by blaming everything on some old decision and dwelling upon it way beyond what was tolerable. She had to prop him up,

  “It won’t do you any good to revisit the past, Julie. What’s done is done. The work you’ve done for the cause is phenomenal, no one could have done it better and they are grateful enough to want to help us get out. Maybe I should talk to Ruth at this point but I can’t say I can be very persuasive. There’s been such bad blood between us on account of the money situation.”r />
  Julius kept on checking the packets of dollar bills and set a small stack aside then counted them once more and placed the amount for David in a smaller brown bag. Only then did he look up at Ethel. She wasn’t annoyed at his lack of attention, and knew him well enough to be sure that he hadn‘t lost a single word she had said. He hated those nasty family entanglements especially between brother and sister and the two sisters in law.

  “Ethel, let’s keep the family stuff out of it, it‘ll just create more trouble. They approved it and pushed us to enlist Davy and Ruth, no question about that, but we also jumped in as usual and went too far. I’ll give Davy the money tomorrow. I know he had the pictures taken for the passports but did he send in the applications? Our passports are in order and we can go at any time. They asked to see them so I guess they expect us to leave very soon. I must make sure the network is clean and that the others are safe.”

  He gave Ethel his best “good soldier” look above his eyeglasses. But she was not charmed by his familiar expressions anymore, everything was so painful to her that the only solid idea she could hang on to was her faith in the cause.

  “I wish they’d gotten you out first Julius. If things go sour…you’ll be the one who will take the heat for all of this, just watch!”

  Julius nodded and smiled as if he didn’t have a worry in the world,

  “Yes but...then we’ll have our day in court. We can still work for the party even as defendants! But I am sure that we have just enough time if Davy gets moving. It may be a good idea for you to talk to Ruthie, after all.”

  On June 14, 1950 at FBI offices in Philadelphia, Harry Gold, now in excellent spirits was joking with his interrogators as they brought him snacks and ice tea. He was the interrogator‘s dream: a repentant spy who had been battling loneliness and depression all his life. A bachelor with very few known female companions, he lived with his mother until she passed away. Gold was desperately lonely and needed friends and people willing to be kind and take care of him, he craved a strong support he had never had. On top of all these psychological handicaps came two of the most vexing issues of his life: being discriminated against because he was Jewish in the America of the 1930s and 40s and his low paying unsteady job as a chemist.

  Harry Gold had joined the Communist movement in Philadelphia and then went underground to work as a paid courier. He performed that task very well with unusual intelligence and perfect street smarts. Kvasnikov held him in such esteem that he had him handling Klaus Fuchs in the United States. When Fuchs failed to show up at a planned rendezvous Gold kept up his search for the physicist and managed to connect with him once more. Yatskov and Feklisov had their doubts about him but the Moscow center controllers were satisfied and decided that Yatskov in particular was an inveterate alarmist. When news of Gold‘s arrest became known Yatskov’s first reaction when he told Feklisov was, “See, I always knew it and I told you so many times, that the GOOSE is a rotten egg deep down!” Feklisov had to agree.

  The door opened and Harry looked up at a new face coming in without knocking. The agent was carrying a whole portfolio of photographs that he set down flat on the table in front of the star witness.

  “Mr. Gold, my name is Special Agent William Anderson, I need to ask you a few questions.”

  Harry smiled and his ugly owlish face almost looked funny when he grinned.

  “Everybody calls me Harry! Of course I’ll be glad to help.”

  “Good, then please take a look at these pictures and let me know if you recognize any of the people in them. Take your time before you answer.”

  Harry went through the pictures very diligently, picked a few that he put aside and returned to them later once he had finished with the whole batch. He kept on looking at the five snapshots he spread in front of him as he was sipping his ice tea. Then finally he set one aside, sat back and said quietly,

  “This is the man I met in New Mexico. During the same trip I saw Fuchs, I traveled to a suburb of Albuquerque to one of those two family houses built for GIs. His wife opened the door and I said either “I come from Julius”...or maybe “Julie sent me…” ? I can‘t remember exactly...She didn’t answer and just said “Oh, yes, come in.” Then she called her husband who was in another room. He made me wait maybe two or three minutes then he finally came out. I was surprised to see him in a pajama top and military pants and shoes. I repeated what the Russian case officer told me to say “I come from Julius…or Julie…Yeah, I think it was Julie.” I gave him my half of the Jell-O box cut jagged. He smiled and took it and went into another room then returned holding both halves that were a perfect match.

  “Ok, he said, I gotta get the stuff ready for you. Can you come back early this afternoon?” I said I could and went away. I was in the apartment for less than ten minutes. I went to a cafeteria in town to kill time and all the while I made sure the documents Fuchs had given me were safely tucked away in my briefcase. I felt secure about the mission. It was all going like clockwork, amazing.

  In the cafeteria I spent some time reading the paper, took a short walk after and finally hailed a taxi back to the apartment. They were both there waiting for me, the young couple from New York, husband and wife. He was in uniform. They couldn’t have been older than their early or mid-twenties: two kids. He handed me a thick sheaf of papers and I quickly looked through them. Numbers, diagrams, lists of names and locations and so on. I was satisfied; I had what I came for. So I took out an envelope with $500 and handed it to the man; but then the wife suddenly jumped in and grabbed the money in a flash. She was very quick about that. The man smiled and seemed satisfied to let her do it, he didn’t show any anger or resentment, nothing like that. I thought it was a bit extreme though and felt he must be henpecked. I took the papers with me on the train back to New York the next day and delivered the whole batch to my case officer who was overjoyed and lavished praise on me like never before.”

  Anderson placed a second photograph in front of Harry Gold of Ruth and David Greenglass with their kids posing for a passport picture. He placed it next to another picture of Greenglass by himself.

  “One more time please, Mr. Gold...Harry! Do you positively recognize the adults in this photograph?”

  “Yes, that’s him. The guy with the other half of the Jell-O box. And that’s his wife with him the picture. They are the people I met in Albuquerque, I never saw any kids. He gave me the documents that I delivered to the Russians.”

  Very calmly Anderson asked once more,

  “Mr. Gold, I want you to be sure that you are positively identifying Ruth and David Greenglass as the two people, husband and wife that you met in New Mexico in June 1945?”

  “I didn’t know them by name but yes, it’s them all right, no mistake. She offered me a cup of coffee.”

  Anderson smiled and said,

  “Thank you Harry!”

  In an adjacent room looking in silence behind a two way mirror were J. Edgar Hoover and Clyde Tolson with other FBI and Justice Dept. officials. Anderson returned and shut the door behind him.

  “Well gentlemen, you saw and heard Harry Gold. He’s identified Ruth and David Greenglass with no hesitation.”

  J. Edgar Hoover said to a U.S. Attorney also present,

  “This wraps things up rather neatly. We‘ll need a warrant to proceed with the immediate arrest of David Greenglass.”

  Clyde Tolson then asked,

  “Are we sure we shouldn’t wait to try to catch more of them? This looks like a very broad network…”

  Hoover replied,

  “By now everyone knows that Fuchs and Gold have been arrested. If we don’t move quickly we could very well lose them all. I’m amazed that the Russians haven’t already ferried them out of the country. I’m sure the most sensitive spies are already beyond our reach...we‘ll be catching the stragglers.”

  Anderson was listening to the huddle and Hoover asked him,

  “What’s your take Willie?”

  “They‘ve reacted very sl
owly in this case. That’s rather unusual, somebody upstairs has been asleep at the wheel or other things are happening that we are unaware of. We should bring Greenglass in right now. When can we get the warrant?”

  “Anderson is right—said Hoover–it’s high time. Do you agree, counselor?”

  The U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York was ready with his answer,

  “It should be stamped and ready in twenty minutes, Mr. Hoover.”

  Hoover nodded at Anderson that he had his warrant and could therefore proceed.

  “Ok, I’ll be on the next train to New York and will pick it up at Foley Square.”

  The FBI director had some further instructions for his special agent,

  “Anderson, we want to give the press a lot of leeway for this case. So don’t hold the reporters back at all. Be sure to bring the newsmen in on the arrest and see to it that they have plenty of advance notice for the camera crews, the radio people and the photographers. If we can create lots of excitement and have a small crowd present so much the better.”

  Two days later David Greenglass was arrested with great fanfare on the Lower East Side and taken to the FBI building in Foley Square for interrogation. He immediately cooperated with his captors and volunteered information about his brother in law Julius Rosenberg who was arrested one month later followed by his wife Ethel in August. The case became an instant cause célèbre and the battle between the two rival families shaped up from the beginning. J. Edgar Hoover was satisfied at least until the end of June because the headlines were filled with accounts of those arrests and the great skill of the special agents in the New York office.

  On the night of June 17, 1950 Julius Rosenberg was reading the paper spread out on the dining room table. David Greenglass had been arrested the day before and he was under close FBI scrutiny. Ethel came out of the kitchen and sat opposite her husband rubbing her hands nervously, as she tried to keep her quivering voice under control.