"Comrade Mundt is forty-two years old. He is Deputy Head of the Department for the Protection of the People. He is unmarried. He has always been regarded as a man of exceptional capabilities, tireless in serving the Party's interests, ruthless in protecting them.
"Let me tell you some details of his career. He was recruited into the Department at the age of twenty-eight and underwent the customary instruction. Having completed his probationary period he undertook special tasks in Scandinavian countries—notably Norway, Sweden and Finland—where he succeeded in establishing an intelligence network which carried the battle against fascist agitators into the enemy's camp. He performed this task well, and there is no reason to suppose that at that time he was other than a diligent member of his Department. But, Comrades, you should not forget this early connection with Scandinavia. The networks established by Comrade Mundt soon after the war provided the excuse, many years later, for him to travel to Finland and Norway, where his commitments became a cover enabling him to draw thousands of dollars from foreign banks in return for his treacherous conduct. Make no mistake: Comrade Mundt has not fallen victim to those who try to disprove the arguments of history. First cowardice, then weakness, then greed were his motives; the acquirement of great wealth his dream. Ironically, it was the elaborate system by which his lust for money was satisfied that brought the forces of justice on his trail."
Fiedler paused, and looked around the room, his eyes suddenly alight with fervor. Leamas watched, fascinated.
"Let that be a lesson," Fiedler shouted, "to those other enemies of the state, whose crime is so foul that they must plot in the secret hours of the night!" A dutiful murmur rose from the tiny group of spectators at the back of the room.
"They will not escape the vigilance of the people whose blood they seek to sell!" Fiedler might have been addressing a large crowd rather than the handful of officials and guards assembled in the tiny, white walled room.
Leamas realized at that moment that Fiedler was taking no chances: the deportment of the Tribunal, prosecutors and witnesses must be politically impeccable. Fiedler, knowing no doubt that the danger of a subsequent countercharge was inherent in such cases, was protecting his own back; the polemic would go down in the record and it would be a brave man who set himself to refute it.
Fiedler now opened the file that lay on the desk before him.
"At the end of 1956, Mundt was posted to London as a member of the East German Steel Mission. He had the additional special task of undertaking counter-subversionary measures against émigré groups. In the course of his work he exposed himself to great dangers—of that there is no doubt—and he obtained valuable results."
Leamas' attention was again drawn to the three figures at the center table. To the President's left, a youngish man, dark. His eyes seemed to be half closed. He had lank, unruly hair and the gray, meager complexion of an ascetic. His hands were slim, restlessly toying with the corner of a bundle of papers which lay before him. Leamas guessed he was Mundt's man; he found it hard to say why. On the other side of the table sat a slightly older man, balding, with an open agreeable face. Leamas thought he looked rather an ass. He guessed that if Mundt's fate hung in the balance, the young man would defend him and the woman condemn. He thought the second man would be embarrassed by the difference of opinion and side with the President.
Fiedler was speaking again.
"It was at the end of his service in London that recruitment took place. I have said that he exposed himself to great dangers; in doing so he fell foul of the British Secret Police, and they issued a warrant for his arrest. Mundt, who had no diplomatic immunity (NATO Britain does not recognize our sovereignty), went into hiding. Ports were watched; his photograph and description were distributed throughout the British Isles. Yet after two days in hiding, Comrade Mundt took a taxi to London airport and flew to Berlin. 'Brilliant,' you will say, and so it was. With the whole of Britain's police force alerted, her roads, railways, shipping and air routes under constant surveillance, Comrade Mundt takes a plane from London airport. Brilliant indeed. Or perhaps you may feel, Comrades, with the advantage of hindsight, that Mundt's escape from England was a little too brilliant, a little too easy, that without the connivance of the British authorities it would never have been possible at all!" Another murmur, more spontaneous than the first, rose from the back of the room.
"The truth is this: Mundt was taken prisoner by the British; in a short historic interview they offered him the classic alternative. Was it to be years in an imperialist prison, the end of a brilliant career, or was Mundt to make a dramatic return to his home country, against all expectation, and fulfill the promise he had shown? The British, of course, made it a condition of his return that he should provide them with information, and they would pay him large sums of money. With the carrot in front and the stick behind, Mundt was recruited.
"It was now in the British interest to promote Mundt's career. We cannot yet prove that Mundt's success in liquidating minor Western intelligence agents was the work of his imperialist masters betraying their own collaborators—those who were expendable—in order that Mundt's prestige should be enhanced. We cannot prove it, but it is an assumption which the evidence permits.
"Ever since 1960—the year Comrade Mundt became head of the Counterespionage Section of the Abteilung—indications have reached us from all over the world that there was a highly placed spy in our ranks. You all know Karl Riemeck was a spy; we thought when he was eliminated that the evil had been stamped out. But the rumors persisted.
"In late 1960 a former collaborator of ours approached an Englishman in the Lebanon known to be in contact with their Intelligence Service. He offered him—we found out soon afterwards—a complete breakdown of the two sections of the Abteilung for which he had formerly worked. His offer, after it had been transmitted to London, was rejected. That was a very curious thing. It could only mean that the British already possessed the intelligence they were being offered, and that it was up to date.
"From mid-1960 onwards we were losing collaborators abroad at an alarming rate. Often they were arrested within a few weeks of their dispatch. Sometimes the enemy attempted to turn our own agents back on us, but not often. It was as if they could scarcely be bothered.
"And then—it was early 1961 if my memory is correct—we had a stroke of luck. We obtained by means I will not describe a summary of the information which British Intelligence held about the Abteilung. It was complete, it was accurate, and it was astonishingly up to date. I showed it to Mundt, of course—he was my superior. He told me it came as no surprise to him: he had certain inquiries in hand and I should take no action for fear of prejudicing them. And I confess that at that moment the thought crossed my mind, remote and fantastic as it was, that Mundt himself could have provided the information. There were other indications too...
"I need hardly tell you that the last, the very last person to be suspected of espionage is the head of the Counterespionage Section. The notion is so appalling, so melodramatic, that few would entertain it, let alone give expression to it! I confess that I myself have been guilty of excessive reluctance in reaching such a seemingly fantastic deduction. That was erroneous.
"But, Comrades, the final evidence has been delivered into our hands. I propose to call that evidence now." He turned, glancing toward the back of the room. "Bring Leamas forward."
* * *
The guards on either side of him stood up and Leamas edged his way along the row to the rough gangway which ran not more than two feet wide, down the middle of the room. A guard indicated to him that be should stand facing the table. Fiedler stood a bare six feet away from him. First the President addressed him.
"Witness, what is your name?" she asked.
"Alec Leamas."
"What is your age?"
"Fifty."
"Are you married?"
"No?'
"But you were."
"I'm not married now."
"What is y
our profession?"
"Assistant librarian."
Fiedler angrily intervened. "You were formerly employed by British Intelligence, were you not?" he snapped.
"That's right. Till a year ago."
"The Tribunal has read the reports of your interrogation," Fiedler continued. "I want you to tell them again about the conversation you had with Peter Guillam sometime in May last year."
"You mean when we talked about Mundt?"
"Yes."
"I've told you. It was at the Circus, the office in London, our headquarters in Cambridge Circus. I bumped into Peter in the corridor. I knew he was mixed up with the Fennan Case and I asked him what had become of George Smiley. Then we got to talking about Dieter Frey, who died, and Mundt, who was mixed up in the thing. Peter said he thought that Maston—Maston was effectively in charge of the case then—had not wanted Mundt to be caught."
"How did you interpret that?" asked Fiedler.
"I knew Maston had made a mess of the Fennan Case. I supposed he didn't want any mud raked up by Mundt appearing at the Old Bailey."
"If Mundt had been caught, would he have been legally charged?" the President put in.
"It depends on who caught him. If the police got him they'd report it to the Home Office. After that no power on earth could stop him from being charged."
"And what if your Service had caught him?" Fiedler inquired.
"Oh, that's a different matter. I suppose they would either have interrogated him and then tried to exchange him for one of our own people in prison over here; or else they'd have given him a ticket."
"What does that mean?"
"Got rid of him."
"Liquidated him?" Fiedler was asking all the questions now, and the members of the Tribunal were writing diligently in the files before them.
"I don't know what they do. I've never been mixed up in that game."
"Might they not have tried to recruit him as their agent?"
"Yes, but they didn't succeed."
"How do you know that?"
"Oh, for God's sake, I've told you over and over again. I'm not a bloody performing seal! I was head of the Berlin Command for four years. If Mundt had been one of our people, I would have known. I couldn't have helped knowing."
"Quite."
Fiedler seemed content with that answer, confident perhaps that the remainder of the Tribunal was not. He now turned his attention to Operation "Rolling Stone," took Leamas once again through the special security complexities governing the circulation of the file, the letters to the Stockholm and Helsinki banks and the one reply which Leamas had received. Addressing himself to the Tribunal, Fiedler commented:
"We had no reply from Helsinki. I do not know why. But let me recapitulate for you. Leamas deposited money at Stockholm on June fifteenth. Among the papers before you there is the facsimile of a letter from the Royal Scandinavian Bank addressed to Robert Lang. Robert Lang was the name Leamas used to open the Copenhagen deposit account. From that letter (it is the twelfth serial in your files) you will see that the entire sum—ten thousand dollars—was drawn by the cosignatory to the account one week later. I imagine," Fiedler continued, indicating with his head the motionless figure of Mundt in the front row, "that it is not disputed by the defendant that he was in Copenhagen on June twenty-first, nominally engaged on secret work on behalf of the Abteilung." He paused and then continued:
"Leamas' visit to Helsinki—the second visit he made to deposit money—took place on about September twenty-fourth." Raising his voice, he turned and looked directly at Mundt. "On the third of October Comrade Mundt made a clandestine journey to Finland—once more allegedly in the interests of the Abteilung."
There was silence. Fiedler turned slowly and addressed himself once more to the Tribunal. In a voice at once subdued and threatening he asked, "Are you complaining that the evidence is circumstantial? Let me remind you of something more." He turned to Leamas.
"Witness, during your activities in Berlin you became associated with Karl Riemeck, formerly Secretary to the Präsidium of the Socialist Unity Party. What was the nature of that association?"
"He was my agent until he was shot by Mundt's men."
"Quite so. He was shot by Mundt's men. One of several spies who were summarily liquidated by Comrade Mundt before they could be questioned. But before he was shot by Mundt's men he was an agent of the British Secret Service?"
Leamas nodded.
"Will you describe Riemeck's meeting with the man you call Control."
"Control came over to Berlin from London to see Karl. Karl was one of the most productive agents we had, I think, and Control wanted to meet him." Fiedler put in: "He was also one of the most trusted?"
"Yes, oh yes. London loved Karl, he could do no wrong. When Control came out I fixed it for Karl to come to my flat and the three of us dined together. I didn't like Karl's coming there really, but I couldn't tell Control that. It's hard to explain, but they get ideas in London, they're so cut off from it and I was frightened stiff they'd find some excuse for taking over Karl themselves—they're quite capable of it."
"So you arranged for the three of you to meet," Fiedler put in curtly. "What happened?"
"Control asked me beforehand to see that he had a quarter of an hour alone with Karl, so during the evening I pretended to have, run out of Scotch. I left the flat and went over to de Jong's place. I had a couple of drinks there, borrowed a bottle and came back."
"How did you find them?"
"What do you mean?"
"Were Control and Riemeck talking still? If so, what were they talking about?"
"They weren't talking at all when I came back."
"Thank you. You may sit down."
Leamas returned to his seat at the back of the room. Fiedler turned to the three members of the Tribunal and began:
"I want to talk first about the spy Riemeck, who was shot—Karl Riemeck. You have before you a list of all the information which Riemeck passed to Alec Leamas in Berlin, so far as Leamas can recall it. It is a formidable record of treachery. Let me summarize it for you. Riemeck gave to his masters a detailed breakdown of the work and personalities of the whole Abteilung. He was able, if Leamas is to be believed, to describe the workings of our most secret sessions. As secretary to the Präsidium he gave minutes of its most secret proceedings.
"That was easy for him; he himself compiled the record of every meeting. But Riemeck's access to the secret affairs of the Abteilung is a different matter. Who at the end of 1959 co-opted Riemeck onto the Committee for the Protection of the People, that vital subcommittee of the Präsidium which coordinates and discusses the affairs of our security organs? Who proposed that Riemeck should have the privilege of access to the files of the Abteilung? Who at every stage in Riemeck's career since 1959 (the year Mundt returned from England, you remember) singled him out for posts of exceptional responsibility? I will tell you," Fiedler proclaimed. "The same man who was uniquely placed to shield him in his espionage activities: Hans-Dieter Mundt. Let us recall how Riemeck contacted the Western Intelligence Agencies in Berlin— how he sought out de Jong's car on a picnic and put the film inside it. Are you not amazed at Riemeck's foreknowledge? How could he have known where to find that car, and on that very day? Riemeck had no car himself, he could not have followed de Jong from his house in West Berlin. There was only one way he could have known—through the agency of our own Security Police, who reported de Jong's presence as a matter of routine as soon as the car passed the Inter Sector checkpoint. That knowledge was available to Mundt, and Mundt made it available to Riemeck. That is the case against Hans-Dieter Mundt—I tell you, Riemeck was his creature, the link between Mundt and his imperialist masters!"
Fiedler paused, then added quietly, "Mundt- -Riemeck- -Leamas: that was the chain of command, and it is axiomatic of intelligence technique the whole world over that each link of the chain be kept, as far as possible, in ignorance of the others. Thus it is right that Leamas should maintain he know
s nothing to the detriment of Mundt: that is no more than the proof of good security by his masters in London.
"You have also been told how the whole case known as 'Rolling Stone,' was conducted under conditions of special secrecy, how Leamas knew in vague terms of an intelligence section under Peter Guillam which was supposedly concerned with economic conditions in our Republic—a section which surprisingly was on the distribution list of 'Rolling Stone.' Let me remind you that that same Peter Guillam was one of several British Security officers who were involved in the investigation of Mundt's activities while he was in England."
The youngish man at the table lifted his pencil, and looking at Fiedler with his hard, cold eyes wide open he asked, "Then why did Mundt liquidate Riemeck, if Riemeck was his agent?"
"He had no alternative. Riemeck was under suspicion. His mistress had betrayed him by boastful indiscretion. Mundt gave the order that he be shot on sight, got word to Riemeck to run, and the danger of betrayal was eliminated. Later, Mundt assassinated the woman.
"I want to speculate for a moment on Mundt's technique. After his return to Germany in 1959, British Intelligence played a waiting game. Mundt's willingness to cooperate with them had yet to be demonstrated, so they gave him instructions and waited, content to pay their money and hope for the best. At that time Mundt was not a senior functionary of our Service—nor of our Party—but he saw a good deal, and what he saw he began to report. He was, of course, communicating with his masters unaided. We must suppose that he was met in West Berlin, that on his short journeys abroad to Scandinavia and elsewhere he was contacted and interrogated. The British must have been wary to begin with—who would not be? They weighed what he gave them with painful care against what they already knew, but they feared that he would play a double game. But gradually they realized they had bit a gold mine. Mundt took to his treacherous work with the systematic efficiency for which he is renowned. At first—this is my guess, but it is based, Comrades, on long experience of this work and on the evidence of Leamas—for the first few months they did not dare to establish any kind of network which included Mundt. They let him be a lone wolf, they serviced him, paid and instructed him independently of their Berlin organization. They established in London, under Guillam (for it was he who recruited Mundt in England), a tiny undercover section whose function was not known even within the Service save to a select circle. They paid Mundt by a special system which they called Rolling Stone, and no doubt they treated the information he gave them with prodigious caution. Thus, you see, it is consistent with Leamas' protestations that the existence of Mundt was unknown to him although—as you will see—he not only paid him, but in the end actually received from Riemeck and passed to London the intelligence which Mundt obtained.
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