by Ted Allbeury
Houghton had offered to turn Queen’s Evidence against the other four if the charges against him could be dropped but the prosecution had refused the offer. They were confident that they didn’t need his testimony.
A Special Branch officer explained how the false passport had been obtained but there was no way that the prosecution could prove that Lonsdale was a Russian. They read out letters translated from Russian that were from a woman named Galyusha who wrote as if she were his wife. But the jury, the court, and the general public got the message, and the prosecution would have gained little even if they had been able to prove that he was Russian.
On the second day of the trial the Attorney-General established in considerable detail the evidence that had only been touched on in the first day, and defence counsel queried as best they could the significance and accuracy of the evidence given by witnesses whose names were not given for security reasons.
Some embarrassment to the security services arose on the third day when a witness who had been instructed by a solicitor to sort through the possessions of the Krogers at their bungalow in Cranley Drive gave his evidence. Despite the previous searches by Special Branch, the witness had discovered two passports concealed in the cover and lining of a writing case. The witness had also discovered $4,000 concealed in a pair of bookends.
A specialist naval officer gave evidence that the transmitter found in the Krogers’ house was amply capable of transmitting to Moscow and beyond. A Russian-language expert confirmed that the signal schedules found in the Krogers’ Ronson lighter and the lighter from Lonsdale’s flat were similar, and included coded transmission details under the headings “transmission blind” and “transmissions on orders of centre.”
The next day included the evidence of a communications expert from the HQ of the British monitoring services. Using the signals plan found in the Krogers’ bungalow he had plotted the bearings and confirmed that the transmitter covered was sited in Moscow.
Towards the end of the day the defence began calling witnesses. When the trial resumed on the following Monday most of the court’s time was taken up with defence counsel’s attempt to establish that Houghton had acted only under threat and that Gee had been a reluctant partner.
By the Wednesday it was the Krogers’ turn. Their several changes of name were touched on. The Attorney-General also brought out their connection with the Rosenbergs in the USA and their connections with Colonel Abel.
On Wednesday March 22, 1961 the Lord Chief Justice said of Lonsdale: “You are clearly a professional spy. It is a dangerous career and one in which you must be prepared—and no doubt are prepared—to suffer if you are caught.”
He passed sentence of 25 years’ imprisonment.
Of the Krogers he said: “I cannot distinguish between either of you—you are both in this up to the hilt. You are both professional spies.”
They received sentences of 20 years each.
Houghton and Gee were both given sentences of 15 years and Lord Parker condemned them as traitors to their country whose motive was sheer greed.
With the trial over the press gave itself up to an orgy of revelation. Houghton’s ex-wife described a marriage of physical cruelty and meanness. Lonsdale’s ex-girlfriends and mistresses described in vivid detail his charm and generosity and hinted that his prowess as a lover was incredible. Those who studied the simian features of Lonsdale’s photographs wondered if that mean-eyed face was really that of the man the women had described. A couple of newspapers mounted the usual campaign that the secret service was inefficient and a few MPs called for an enquiry.
Media interest in the case was short-lived. The new E-type Jaguar was more interesting at £1,480 plus purchase tax and it still wasn’t easy to get tickets for My Fair Lady at Drury Lane.
28
The house in Georgetown had been converted from a derelict warehouse with great skill and taste. Two teams of CIA electronics engineers had swept it thoroughly and declared it clean. It was used as a safe-house by the CIA for top-secret meetings. As added security, there were no telephones. Communication with the outside world was by messenger or radio.
Six places had been arranged around a glass-topped table for the meeting, but there were none of the usual scrap-pads or writing materials that went with normal meetings for notetaking. It had been agreed beforehand that there would be no record of the meeting.
The three Americans chatted about the weather, the new CIA pay-scales and their views on Allen Drury’s Advise and Consent, anything except the matter that had brought them there.
When the two Britishers arrived, Shapiro from SIS and Andrews from CIA-SIS liaison, there were handshakes all round and introductions to the two Americans they had not already met.
It was Macleod who started them off, smiling as he pushed an ash-tray towards Andrews.
“Apologies for the formal arrangements.” He laughed. “Unfortunately, we don’t have furniture for a more informal layout.” He paused. “However, we all know why we are here and we all know that this meeting is informal and off-the-record.” He nodded towards Shapiro. “I’ll leave it to Mr. Shapiro to start the ball rolling.”
Shapiro took a deep breath. “As you know, I’ve come to ask for help from the CIA.” He looked at the three Americans’ faces but there was no response. “For many years we have passed on to the CIA almost all the information from one of our top agents. I think it’s fair to say that most of the CIA’s information on both the internal politics of the KGB and Polish intelligence came solely from this source. I’m authorised to tell you now that the man concerned was in fact the liaison officer between the Polish security service and the KGB. But he is actually an Englishman.” Shapiro paused and looked around the table. “You can imagine the courage it took to maintain that cover. And you can imagine the importance to both SIS and CIA of having that level of information.” He paused and then said quietly, “At the moment that man is in a special punishment section of a Gulag labour-camp. Perhaps I should add that he is a commissioned officer in the Intelligence Corps with the rank of captain. We understand from two sources that he has been very badly treated and is unlikely to survive more than three or four months.” Shapiro paused again. “We have nobody of similar importance to offer as an exchange. I should like to ask officially—if you would consider offering Moscow an exchange for this officer.” Shapiro took a deep breath. “Maybe I ought to declare an interest. I recruited this man myself. We had a very special relationship. I explained the risks but he went ahead willingly.” He paused and his voice quavered slightly as he said softly, “I feel personally responsible for his terrible situation.”
For several moments there was silence around the table and then Macleod said, “Have you any indication that Moscow would agree to such an exchange?”
“We have nothing comparable to offer so we haven’t made any approach, either unofficial or official.”
Macleod said quietly, “What made you come to us at this particular moment?”
Shapiro shrugged. “Two reasons only. Firstly because you’ve got Abel, and secondly we only heard two days ago that our man was alive and in the Kolyma Gulag.”
“Did you know that Abel and Gary Powers’s parents are trying to persuade Moscow to do an exchange for Gary Powers, the U-2 pilot?”
“Yes I knew that from your weekly sitrep.”
Da Costa chipped in. “You’re asking us to leave one of our own citizens in a Soviet prison for the sake of your own man.”
“He was hardly our own man. He was virtually working for you as well. He was under our control but you got almost everything that we got.”
Macleod turned to look at da Costa. “We contributed funds to this operation, Ray. And it wasn’t just a hand-out. It was on the Director’s instructions.”
Nowak said, “There are already rumours in the press about an exchange for Powers. There’d be hell to pay if we ended up leaving Powers to rot in the Lubyanka and brought back a Brit instead.”
Macleod looked at Shapiro. “What do you say to that?”
“It’s undoubtedly a problem.” For a moment he looked uncomfortable. “I don’t like saying this but isn’t our man more important than Gary Powers?”
Da Costa half-smiled. “D’you mean more important or more deserving?”
Shapiro shrugged. “I wouldn’t dream of passing any comment about what your guy deserves. I just claim that our man is worth exchanging for anybody we’ve got. Either of us.”
“Why don’t you offer them Lonsdale?”
“We’re quite prepared to do that but we don’t think that they set as much value on him as they do on Abel. And they’d certainly want the Krogers as well. The couple who worked for Abel in New York—the Cohens.”
Da Costa said quietly, “So why don’t you try them first and maybe have Abel as a fall-back position. If our people agreed.”
“We’ve had indications that there’s a batting order of people who Moscow want and Lonsdale is at best about third on the list. Maybe not even that high.”
“And Abel is number one in your opinion?”
“No. Abel is number two on their list.”
“So who’s their number one?”
“The defector. Hayhanen.”
There was a chorus of protest but Macleod held up a silencing hand as he looked at his colleagues. “Nobody’s suggesting that we trade Hayhanen, but Joe Shapiro’s right in his assessment.” He turned to look at Shapiro. “What is it you want us to go with?”
“A flat refusal on Hayhanen. Try offering Lonsdale—with the Krogers thrown in if necessary. And if that doesn’t work I’d like to be able to offer Abel, as a last resort.”
There was a long silence and then Macleod said, “How about we break for half an hour and I’ll walk around the block with Joe while you guys think about it?”
Nobody dissented and as they walked slowly round the block Shapiro said, “Are your people in a mood to help, Robert?”
“Well, they’re on your side, that’s for sure. It’s the problem of leaving Powers to rot that worries them. The public won’t like that. They won’t understand. And none of us—FBI and CIA—is anybody’s favourite son at the moment.”
“I think there is a solution that could avoid any problem about Gary Powers.”
“You’re a cunning old fox, Joe Shapiro. You’d better tell them what you’ve got in mind.”
When they got back to the house the others settled back round the table and Macleod said, “Joe’s got some thoughts on this situation.” He paused and looked at Shapiro. “Tell us what you’ve got in mind, Joe.”
Joe looked around the table at each of them. “Let me tell you first how I think those guys in Dzerzhinski Square will be thinking.
“Their guy Abel is a sick man according to what I’ve heard. A disappointed man too. Disappointed that Moscow haven’t raised a finger so far to get him released. He was their top guy in New York—maybe in the States for that matter. And he’ll have expected that they’d at least try for a deal. But they ain’t tried—have they?
“So when they’re forced to consider a deal about him they’ll know that we’ll have tipped him off that we’re offering Moscow a deal. If they refuse they’ll know that he’ll be a very bitter man. He’s kept silent so far—and they’ll know that too. But if they refuse a deal then maybe his attitude would change. He’s had some years in prison but he won’t ever have contemplated actually spending the last years of his life in jail. Dying in jail. The KGB will assume that if he was left to rot by them he could well feel that he’s done his bit and with a nice offer from you guys he might jump at the chance of co-operating. If Moscow don’t care about him why should he tough it out?
“Now we come to our guy—code-name Phoenix. He won’t ever talk—no matter what they do to him—no matter what they offer him. I’ve had word that he’s a very sick man. Physically and mentally. They’ve put him through the mincing machine, that’s for sure.” He shrugged. “He’s of no use to them and they will know it.”
As he paused da Costa interrupted. “That sounds like a stand-off, Joe.”
Shapiro shook his head. “No. It’s not. There’s two things to bear in mind. Firstly, Abel will know he’s going to spend the rest of his life in jail. Abel has hopes, our man has none.” He paused. “There’s one other plus factor on our side. The Russians have never publicised the capture of our man—no show-trial for the world’s press—the usual scenario. Why?”
Macleod said softly, “They don’t want to lose face. They don’t want the world to know they were fooled by your man. That a top KGB liaison man with the Poles was a mole for the West.”
Shapiro nodded. “And they wouldn’t dare put him on show in court after they’d beaten him up and he still wasn’t admitting to anything.”
Da Costa said, “That still leaves the problem of Powers, Joe.”
Shapiro shook his head slowly. “Powers isn’t a problem. He’s our ace in the hole.”
“How come?”
“We do the deal with Moscow so that as far as the rest of the world is concerned we exchange Abel for Powers. The deal for Phoenix is a secret deal. Never to be revealed by either side. And he doesn’t come over at Check-point Charlie or any of the usual Berlin crossing points.”
Macleod nodded. “And if the Russians say no?”
“We stick to our position. No deal for our guy means no deal for Abel.”
Nowak said, “And what if Langley or the White House say ‘no’?”
“And you trade Abel just for Powers?”
“Yep.”
Shapiro pursed his lips reflectively. “Well, apart from the whole of the Western world thinking you were either very naive or very weak to trade a top Soviet spy for a run-of-the-mill pilot, I’d say you would be wise to reflect on what effect it would have on your relationship with SIS.”
Da Costa said quickly, “Are you talking with official backing when you say that, Joe?”
“Not at all. I’m not even suggesting that it would be official government policy or even official SIS policy. But a lot of top people in SIS would have very hard feelings about working with CIA or the FBI in future.”
Da Costa said, “That’s blackmail, Joe.”
Shapiro shook his head vigorously. “It’s not, Mr. da Costa. And let me assure you that if I thought that blackmail was the only way then I’d resort to blackmail. All I’m asking for is help and consideration from my colleagues. You people.”
Macleod raised his eyebrows. “It’s rather more than help and consideration, Joe.”
“It’s very urgent, Robbie. Desperately urgent. I need a quick reaction.”
Macleod nodded and looked at the others. “I’ll take our friends back to their hotel. I’ll be back in about an hour. Kick it around while I’m away.”
Da Costa stood up. “Before you go, what’s your view, Robbie?”
“I go for it. But with a proviso. It has to be approved by State and the Director CIA.” Macleod turned to the two Britishers. “Let’s go.”
When Macleod and the Englishmen had gone da Costa walked over to the window. For a few minutes he stood there and then turned to look at Nowak.
“What d’you think?”
“You’re against it, aren’t you?”
“Not really. But I don’t think it’ll work.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think the KGB will play ball. Not two for one.”
“They’ve had all they want out of Powers. A trial, a public confrontation, an abject apology for being a naughty boy. What more can they get out of him? And the world won’t know it’s two for one.”
“It’ll take weeks to negotiate. According to what Shapiro said their chap could be dead by then.”
“All the more reason for the Russians to get their fingers out.”
“And we give up any chance we’ve got of getting Abel to come over to us and spill the beans.”
“He won’t come over. They’ve tried everythin
g they know. He just smiles and shakes his head. He’s built up this image of himself now. The friendly, intelligent and patriotic soldier who bears his punishment with dignity and courage. He’d never abandon that for being a defector.”
“What will the brass say d’you reckon?”
“The Director CIA will say ‘yes.’ The Secretary of State will say ‘no.’ ”
“And then?”
“It’ll be up to the President. I’d guess he’ll say ‘yes.’ ”
Late the same evening Macleod drove Shapiro out to CIA HQ at Langley and they sat in a small office with a microfiche reader and a small bundle of fiches, marking the CIA references of typical material that had come from Phoenix.
It was 4 a.m. when they finished and a secretary had typed up the list. The information concerned had been collated onto two fiches while Macleod and Shapiro slept in a couple of small duty officers’ bunks. Macleod woke Shapiro at 8 a.m. with shaving kit and talked to him as he washed and shaved.
As Nowak had forecast, the response from the CIA Director had been positive, and from the State Department negative. The President would make the decision. He would be at his desk by 8.30, would sample the information on the fiches and make his decision. He might ask to see Shapiro and ask some questions: Macleod was to put the facts to the President verbally.
It was 11 a.m. when Macleod returned. The President had agreed after seeing the representative samples of the kind of information that Phoenix had been supplying. He had even wished them luck and had asked to be kept informed.
29
Although Nowak had been so determined to get a conviction against Colonel Abel he was aware that the prosecution had sailed very near the wind to get that conviction. And he was aware too that they had not been able to establish even one actual act of espionage against the Russian. Now it was all over he felt a sneaking respect for the man who had refused to talk or co-operate in any way, and he was pleased to be the bearer of good news.
He sat at the plain wooden table in the prison office block waiting for the Russian to be shown in. A week-old copy of Pravda which he had brought with him lay on the table alongside a carton of Marlboros. When he heard the footsteps in the corridor outside he stood up and faced the door. He was shocked by the Russian’s appearance. He was much thinner, his clothes hanging loose on his gaunt frame and his steps unsteady. He waved the old man to the chair and sat down facing him.