World Famous Spy Scandals

by Vikas Khatri

  Suetterlin had been meticulously coached for the task. He had learned how to live in the West at specially created camps in Russia. Whole towns, complete with shops, cinemas and restaurants, have been built there to simulate major cities in Britain, America, Germany and Japan. Spies live there for months, familiarising themselves with their future environments by speaking only the language of their eventual destination, learning all about its currency and way of life.

  As a raven, Suetterlin was then trained in every trick of seduction and making love. Nubile Soviet girls act as sex tutors; during lessons which, according to one 1960s defector, are ‘designed to turn us into animals capable of satisfying the cravings of any woman’. The defector said the pressure on the Red Romeos was so intense that two of his classmates committed suicide. But Suetterlin was made of sterner stuff.

  Over coffee, he used every ounce of his practised charm on Leonore. She was amazed to find how much they had in common. They talked all evening, and made a date for dinner the next night. Concerts and romantic walks along the banks of the Rhine followed. Soon Leonore was hopelessly in love with Suetterlin. He was gentle, considerate and generous, in bed and out of it. Within six months they agreed to marry. Leonore was the envy of all her colleagues in the West German government’s Foreign Ministry.

  But the honeymoon was soon over. Weeks after their wedding, Suetterlin asked his bride to bring home classified documents from the office. Fear of losing the man she had waited for so long persuaded Leonore to do as he wished. She was given a handbag with a false compartment into which she put the papers just before going home to lunch. While she cooked their meal, Suetterlin photographed the secrets, which were returned to the Foreign Ministry during the afternoon. The Kremlin left instructions and picked up undeveloped rolls of film from hidden ‘dead letter box’ hiding places in derelict buildings or tree stumps. Suetterlin was alerted to each delivery when a tango titled ‘Moscow Nights’ was played on Radio Moscow.

  In six years, more than 3,000 highly-classified documents

  found their way to KGB headquarters. They included full details of two vital NATO exercises to test the combat-readiness of West Germany’s front-line forces, minutes of crucial NATO conferences and warnings of counter-intelligence operations against Iron Curtain espionage agents. Secret missile centres and evacuation plans in the event of a Russian invasion were also betrayed to Moscow. And the Suetterlin-Leonore service was so efficient that KGB chiefs began to suspect it. Surely, they reasoned, no security service could be lax enough to allow leaks on this scale. But it was.

  The Suetterlin operation came to an end in 1967 only because Yevgeny Runge, his spymaster, defected to the West, giving full details of that and other espionage coups. He told West German interrogators:

  ‘The Suetterlins copied the personal files of diplomats and functionaries of the foreign service. These provided an ideal starting point for further entrapments or blackmail. Thanks to Lola (Leonore’s KGB code name), we knew well ahead of time whenever an investigation had been ordered against any of our agents. We received copies of all Foreign Ministry messages which had to pass across Lola’s desk on their way to the coding room. Often we read them in Moscow before the German Foreign Minister got a chance to read them in Bonn!’

  The couple were arrested, but at first Leonore refused to say anything to incriminate her husband. Then she was shown his statement. She was only one of three women he had been sent to Germany to woo. He never loved or, even liked her. Their meeting, courtship and marriage was all ordered by Moscow. During sex, his passion was always merely duty. Leonore said nothing as she read the harsh words. But that night she hanged herself in her cell with the cord from her dressing gown. Suetterlin was jailed for seven years.

  Leonore Heinz was a tragic victim of the Bonn syndrome exploited so ruthlessly by Moscow. The artificially-created nerve centre of the West German and NATO administrations sucks in tens of thousands of ambitious girls as secretaries, receptionists, clerical assistants and switchboard operators. They have lavish apartments, responsible jobs, stylish cars and plenty of money. Only one thing is lacking – men. The bureaucrats they work with are mostly married and available only for short-term casual affairs. The nightlife is nowhere near as sophisticated as that of Paris, London or New York. The frustrated spinsters are vulnerable to any man who offers availability and diversion. And in the late 1970s, there were suddenly scores of such men.

  Helga Berger was 38, a secretary in the Foreign Ministry where Leonore had worked, when a stranger approached as she sat at a cafe beside the Rhine. Peter Krause, fortyish and well-dressed, soon swept her off her feet with expensive dinners, and nights at the opera, cinema and theatre. They became lovers and went on holiday together in Spain. Then came the catch. Krause said he worked for British intelligence, and introduced her to a man claiming to be the head of the UK secret service. There seemed no harm in obtaining classified papers for the agent of a NATO ally. Months later, Krause revealed the truth – he was an East German spy. By then, it was too late for Helga. For years she continued to provide him with information. ‘I did not want to lose him,’ she tearfully said at her trial. ‘I loved him, loved him.’ When she began a five-year jail sentence, Krause was back in East Germany.

  Dagmar Scheffler was also left to pick up the pieces after being loved and deserted. Dagmar, 35, who worked in the personal office of the West German Chancellor, had just been divorced when smooth-talking Herbert Schroeter walked into her life. Soon she was providing him with details of West Germany’s defence policy, the West’s position on Soviet neglect of human rights and Bonn’s attitude towards Moscow. Schroeter was warned in time to flee to Russia just before Dagmar was arrested. ‘I needed a man and Herbert was my dream,’ she said. ‘I was besotted.’

  Renate Lutze, 39, was another secretary duped by a raven. She passed more than 1,000 sensitive documents from her office – that of a top West German defence official – to the man who wooed and wed her during a six year espionage spree before they both were arrested.

  Then, in March 1979, came the devastating defection of at least six secretaries in one month. Four fled across the Berlin Wall in one week. The six included Christel Broszey, 32-year-old chief secretary to the leader of the West German opposition, Inge Goliath, 35, secretary to the party’s foreign affairs spokesman, Ingeborg Schultz, 36, from the Science Ministry, and Belga Roedinger, 44, who worked in the Finance Ministry.

  A NATO spokesman said, ‘With every girl who has defected, we have found there was a Communist agent lover. When a girl has fallen for him, it is almost impossible for her to escape. She has found an attentive lover who is superb in bed because he has been trained to be.’ West German counter intelligence chief Herbert Hellenbroich said:

  ‘These are older women who have achieved a position of trust and reliability by devoting themselves to their careers, then found they have nothing in their personal lives. They can easily be led into love, and Communist agents can even reveal their identity without the risk of being exposed. The woman will be dependent on them for love, terrified of losing the man who has brought romance into her life.’

  But the raven problem was not unique to Germany. In the same month, March 1979, Urael Lorenzen, secretary at NATO headquarters in Brussels to the man who planned all NATO military exercises, fled with her lover to East Berlin, and appeared on TV to accuse the West of having contingency plans which would reduce much of Central Europe – on both sides of the Iron Curtain – to a nuclear wasteland. Ursel, 38, took with her dossiers from NATO files, and security chiefs in Belgium described her betrayal as ‘a devastating blow’.

  Western spycatchers stepped up surveillance of possible ravens. They flooded the press with stories of how Communist agents signed on innocently at language schools and seduced girls studying to increase their qualifications for service in multi-national organisations. They put up posters in all NATO and government offices warning: ‘There is a code word which opens safes – it i
s LOVE.’ And for a while, the precautions seemed to work. Then, in April 1980, Belgian secretary Imelda Verrept failed to return to her job at NATO headquarters in Brussels after the Easter break. Imelda was in her thirties. She had an attentive new boyfriend. And she had gone away for the holiday with him to East Berlin. Shapex, a major military exercise to be held within weeks by NATO armies, was no longer a mystery to Moscow. Yet another raven had flown after cultivating a cuckoo in the West’s nest.

  But Russia’s most sensational success in exploiting sex for espionage ends was not due to the work of randy ravens, sensuous swallows or manipulating madames. The Kremlin simply cashed in ruthlessly when a man who should have known better took a fancy to a girl he met purely by chance.

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  Martin Maput Mystery

  Along with Sambha espionage scandal, another spying incident came to light. This scandal did not create ripples as the attention of all the countries was riveted on the Sambha scandal. Naturally, this scandal receded into background and many mysteries remained unsolved. The first one was the link between Iran-born Martin and the Soviet Union. Martin was able to secure business worth billions of rupees for his employers. Another facet of this intriguing episode was that Maput, who was born in Russia, could get service in the Indian army. Nobody knows what he did there till his retirement

  The morning of January 16, 1979, was unusually cool and foggy in Calcutta. There was hardly any sign of activity or Traffic at that time of early morning on Park Street. A jeep stopped before an old and magnificent building known as Park Mansions. Five persons got down from the jeep and stood before flat No.20 in that building. They rang the door bell. A short time after, a fair, middle aged, flabby and bespectacled man stood before them and asked, “What do you want?”

  “We wish to see Shri Karo Upkar Martin. Is he in?” one of the five men told.

  “I am Martin,” the man identified himself. The visitors handed him a paper.

  “It is alright, you may search the house. In the meantime, I will have my breakfast,” replied Martin as his face turned dark. Even then, he tried his best not to lose his composure as he turned into the house with his visitors.

  The five started searching the place. This was during the period when India was under Janta government. It is alleged that at that time CIA had launched an operation to uncover Russian agents in India. Probably the Central Intelligence Department was tipped by some such contact that the retired army officer Maput was a Soviet citizen. He was a former Russian agent and after his retirement from the army was again working as their agent. Maput was living in the posh colony of Ramkrishnapuram in South Delhi.

  The Research and Analysis wing (RAW) which kept a strict watch on foreign agents, suspected Maput for some time. But they could not collect any worthwhile evidence against him. Anyway, Maput was kept under surveillance for months. The suspicions of RAW were confirmed after keeping an eye on Maput’s activities for some time. It was now certain that Maput was indulging in anti-national activities. He was eventually arrested on January 15, 1979, under section

  126-B of the Indian Penal Code and sections 3, 5 and 9 of Official Secrets Act.

  During the interrogation of Maput, it was revealed that he had close relations with Karo Martin and that they worked in conjunction. Martin was working in Mcleod & Co., a very well known firm of Calcutta.

  The search at Martin’s place was a direct sequel of information gathered from Maput’s interrogation. The search party consisted of Intelligence officers, Vibhuti Nandi and Raghubir Singh. Two Calcutta based Intelligence officers, Alok Ghosh and Prasum Sanyal were assisting them. Vishwajit Chakravarty, the Station House officer of Park Street Police Station also accompanied the Intelligence officers. The search lasted for well over six hours from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m.

  The following documents and articles were seized during the search. They were files of confidential correspondence, diaries containing names and addresses of important people, one Russian movie camera, membership card No. 1706 of Army club in Fort William, military map of Cairo, Visa card No. 1174-68421 of Canada, international driving license

  No. R-130. Apart from them, cheque book No. 253-530 of Sweden Credit Bank, documents pertaining to

  correspondence of the former Defence Production Minister M.M. Thomas and correspondence file of Calcutta-based, Soviet Commercial Advisor, E. Ejov with Martin, were also seized.

  After the arrest, Martin was removed to the office of Special Intelligence situated at No. 15, Lord Sinha Road. He was kept there for the night. It transpired that he had relations with important people abroad. He was making frequent trips to foreign countries. He was particularly visiting Russia and other eastern European countries of the Communist bloc.

  Karo Upkar Martin had come to India in 1941. He did his matriculation from here and got the job in 1941 in Calcutta firm, Messrs. M.M. Ispahani & Co. in 1960, he joined another firm, Messrs. Amba Lal, after passing the examination of F.C.I., from Bombay’s British Institutes. This company benefitted a lot from his association. During 1965-70, he worked in Sahu Jain & Co. According to police records, he got orders worth billions for this company from Soviet Union. Karo Martin rejoined Mcleod & Co., in 1975, and had been working there since then. It was alleged that he was instrumental in getting orders worth billions of rupees for this company from Communist countries.

  Martin was a bachelor and lived with his mother and sister named Zyron. But, his life was neither lonely nor dull. He was member of almost all the elite clubs in Calcutta. He spent his nights with lovely women and spent money lavishly. He never returned to his house before midnight. A beautiful lady named Sonali accompanied him to the Fort William Club. Every month, he used to spend a few nights in a posh hotel on Park Street or Jawaharlal Nehru Road. During these nights, he always had the company of foreign men and women.

  Though his salary was Rs.4,000 per month, he donated more than this amount in charities. He spent extravagantly in hotels, gambling dens, and in travels. He maintained cordial relations with the rich and also with political leaders in Bengal.

  Everything that Martin confessed to or divulged was kept a secret. Only this much could be found out that he collected information regarding military matters and trade at Delhi and Calcutta. He had supplied details about coal mines and location of other minerals to foreign countries.

  Morarji Desai, the then Prime Minister, ordered for

  deportation of Leonid Andreiwitch, the Soviet Trade Commissioner, and Yuri Rajiwin, third secretary of the Soviet Embassy, when the matter was brought to his notice. Martin was taken to Delhi.

  But, nobody knows about the fate of Maput, who got recruited to the Indian army inspite of being a Russian. What happened to him still remains a mystery.

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  The Spy Scandal that Ruined Profumo

  Intrigued by shrieks of laughter from his stately home’s swimming pool, Lord Astor guided his weekend guests towards the gate in the pool fence. They pushed it open just as a dazzling beauty emerged, naked from the water. She brushed her long, flowing dark red hair from her eyes — and then noticed the arrival of strangers. Their smiles broadened as she screamed for her swimming costume, and her companions threw it further from her. But the events of the next two years were to wipe those smiles from the faces of almost everyone present. The innocent fun of that summer afternoon in 1961 was to result in the disgrace of a British Government minister, the electoral defeat of his party after 13 years in power, the death of one of those present, serious doubts about a top spymaster, and praise and promotion for a Soviet agent. For the poolside frolic was the opening scene in the British political scandal of the century — the Profumo affair. And it is now clear that what Prime Minister Harold Macmillan at first described as ‘a silly scrape over a woman’ was, in fact, a carefully orchestrated Russian subversion triumph.

  The beauty in the pool was Christine Keeler, then 20. She was staying at a cottage on Lord Astor’s Cliveden estate with Dr Stephen Ward, an osteopath wh
ose ‘healing hands’ had eased the pains of some of the richest and most powerful figures in British society. Lord Astor, grateful for past services, had given him use of the cottage in 1950. Now that generous gesture was to rebound on him savagely. For among his own party of weekend guests was War Minister John Profumo. And he was captivated by the lithe body so temptingly on display before him. Within days he had asked Ward to arrange a rendezvous with Christine. Soon she and the politician were lovers.

  Such secret liaisons are not unusual among married members of Parliament. Labour security spokesman George Wigg, who played a leading role in the subsequent scandal, said: ‘Few in the House of Commons have not been guilty of some sexual turpitude.’ What caused Profumo’s downfall was the identity of Ward’s other companion that weekend at Cliveden. He was Captain Eugene Ivanov, a GRU master spy masquerading as assistant naval attache at the Russian embassy in London.

  Ward had been introduced to him by Sir Colin Coote, the editor of Lord Astor’s newspaper, The Daily Telegraph. The osteopath treated him for lumbago, and happened to mention that, as a keen artist, he was anxious to go sketching in Moscow, but was having problems obtaining a visa. When Ivanov toured the Telegraph’s Fleet Street offices with a party of military attaches, Sir Colin remembered the conversation, and arranged a dinner for the two to meet. They quickly became friends. But unknown to the editor, neither man was what he seemed. And that was to prove catastrophic for Profumo.

  One of Ward’s sidelines was meeting young girls on the London nightclub circuit, and grooming them into high class prostitutes. Christine Keeler was a nude dancer at the Murray Cabaret Club when she fell under his hypnotic spell. Ward provided girls for visiting international dignitaries as well as his influential patients, and MI5 checked him out since he was moving in powerful circles. They were prepared to turn a blind eye to some of his less savoury antics in return for occasional information. And when he told of his acquaintances with Ivanov, MI5 chief Sir Roger Hollis