by Earley, Pete
The agent stopped john’s sales pitch. He was mentioning so many potential recruits that the KGB agent was having trouble keeping track of them. “He didn’t like me using all of their names, saying them out loud,” John recalled.
The agent suggested that each recruit be given a single-letter designation so their actual names wouldn’t be overheard, but, he added, there wasn’t any point to assigning letters to persons who weren’t already in the military. John agreed.
From now on, the KGB agent explained, the letter S would stand for Michael, and K for Arthur. Jerry would be called D, and Gary F. John didn’t ask why, he simply noted the letters on a small card that he was carrying.
The Russian agent turned the conversation back to Jerry and his irrational behavior. Jerry was becoming a problem, the KGB agent said. His sudden retirement could be a signal that he had become worried about being captured.
“He could become a risk,” the KGB agent said. “You must watch him closely.”
After the meeting, John returned to his hotel and found that he couldn’t think about anything but Jerry and the fogged film.
“It was dear that Jerry had fogged the film intentionally,” John said later, “but why? What purpose could he possibly have for fogging film and then sending me to the KGB with it?”
John telephoned Jerry as soon as he returned to Norfolk.
“I told that son of a bitch about the fogged film and he told me not to worry about that because he still had the original one third of the messages and he would photograph them again for me,” John recalled. “That’s when I knew that Jerry had fogged the film. Why else had he kept those messages around?”
John decided that Jerry had tried to pull off a “rather simple and stupid scam.”
Jerry had fogged the film because he wanted to make certain he could collect his back pay and also sell the material in installments, John concluded, and he hadn’t cared whether the Russians killed John in the process.
“It wasn’t going to work,” John recalled. “I told Jerry that it was his ass if he didn’t take pictures of the first one third of the messages and bring them to me.”
Jerry brought the film to Norfolk in April 1984. He came on the same weekend that John was to make his dead drop outside Washington and, once again, Jerry was hoping to be paid on the spot all of the back salary money that the KGB owed him. But the KGB had other ideas. The Russians weren’t going to pay anyone who gave them fogged film.
John and P.K. met Jerry, and when the two men were alone, John got right to the point.
“I know why you are here,” John said. “You want your money. But you’re too early. You are going to have to wait a few days.”
That weekend, John made a dead drop delivery and picked up a package of cash. The Soviets had listed each member of John’s spy ring by his letter code name and marked a dollar amount next to each letter.
John took his Swiss Army knife and cut out all of the letter designations and amounts except for Jerry’s, and then he called Jerry into his den and showed him the paper. He wanted Jerry to realize that the spy ring had other suppliers and John wasn’t dependent on him.
“Okay, I’m going to let you read this because I don’t want to get caught in any argument between you and those motherfuckers,” John said. He handed Jerry the piece of paper.
It said: “D gets ZERO.”
“Jerry’s face turned white,” John Walker recalled, “and I said to him, ‘It’s your own goddamn fault because you are playing these stupid games and they are disciplining you. You are going to get us all killed.’”
The two men sat for several minutes without talking.
Then John said, “Jerry, we have been friends for a long time, and if you think you are going to pull this off with the people we are dealing with, you are nuts. I don’t need this type of aggravation. You’re going to take the heat on this alone. I’ve got other suppliers besides you.”
Jerry left the next day. A few days later, John received a letter from him. Jerry said he was resigning from the spy business.
“I’m out of it,” Jerry wrote, and then he added a sentence that really infuriated John. “I suggest that you hire someone with cheaper labor costs.”
“That was such an insult,” John told me. “It really pissed me off and I thought to myself, ‘Screw this guy. He’ll come crawling back eventually,’ because I knew Jerry couldn’t cut it on the outside. He was a loser.”
A few days after Jerry wrote his resignation letter, he typed another letter, but this one was addressed to the resident agent of the FBI in San Francisco:
Dear Sir:
I have been involved in espionage for several years, specifically I’ve passed along Top Secret Cryptographic Keylists for military communications, Tech Manuals for same, Intelligence Messages, and etc.
I didn’t know that the info was being passed to the USSR until after I had been involved a few years and since then I’ve been remoreseful [sic] and wished to be free.
Finally , I’ve decided to stop supplying material – my contact doesn’t know of my decision. Originally I was told I couldn’t get out without approval, this was accompanied with threats. Since then I believe the threats were a bluff.
At any rate the reason for this letter is to give you – FBI – an opportunity to break what probably [sic] is a significant espionage system. (I know that my contact has recurited [sic] at least three other members that are actively supplying highly classified material). (I have the confidence of my contact).
I pass the material to my contact (a US citizen) who in turn passes the material to a contact overseas (his actual status – KGB or whatever – I don’t know). That is not always the case tho, sometimes US locations are used. A US location is always used to receive instructions and money.
If you are interested in this matter you can signal me with an Ad in the Los Angeles Times Classified Section under “Personal Messages (1225)”.
What I would expect to cooperate is complete immunity from prosecution and absolutely no public disclosure of me or my idenity [sic]. I will look for an Ad in Monday editions only for the next four weeks. Also, I would desire some expense funds depending on the degree that my livelihood is interupted [sic].
The Ad: Start with “RUS:”, followed by whatever message you desire to pass. If your message is not clear I’ll send another letter. If I decide to cooperate you will hear from me via an attorney. Otherwise nothing further will happen.
Jerry signed the letter: RUS.
He wanted to make certain it was difficult to trace, so he made a copy of the letter and sent the copy to the FBI. If the price was right, he was ready to squeal. It was the one surefire way to get out of John’s clutches.
Chapter 57
Michael had hoped his transfer to the U.S.S. Nimitz would give him better access to secret material than he had as a clerk for the fighter squadron. But when he reported aboard the carrier in January 1984, he found himself assigned to the recreational department, where he was put in charge of handing out and collecting basketballs.
John was irritated. He telephoned Michael the weekend of April 15 and asked him to come over. By this time, John had already had his angry exchange with Jerry. Now John was going to turn up the heat on Michael. John formed several stacks of bills, $1,000 each, on his desk, and when Michael arrived, John made certain that he got a good look at all the money. Then John picked up one of the stacks and gave it to Michael.
“This is all you’re getting this time,” he said.
“But I thought I was going to make a thousand a week doing this,” Michael complained. “Not a thousand every six months.”
“You want more money, you’ve got to earn it,” John replied. “You’re a big married man now, off on your own. No one is going to give you spending cash for nothing.”
Now it was Michael’s turn to get angry. John didn’t care. He explained to Michael that Jerry had quit the Navy, leaving him in “deep shit.”
“I�
�m counting on you to produce some heavy-duty shit, otherwise neither of us is going to make any money,” John told Michael.
Michael returned to work determined to get promoted. He took an advancement test for his next promotion three times. He also worked hard to befriend as many sailors as he could who worked in the operations administration office of the carrier.
“I was really busting my ass,” Michael recalled later, “and my dad was helping me by filling out all the right forms and putting just the right words on them to get me that promotion.”
Still, promotions take time, and neither Michael nor John was patient. They both were becoming frustrated and irritable. Michael began to avoid his father, and John began to feel that Michael wasn’t trying hard enough.
Michael also was having problems at home. When he first told Rachel about the spying, she had been fascinated. She had assumed that Michael was spying for the Navy with his dad. But after they were married, Rachel discovered that Michael was stealing secrets for another country, and she immediately assumed it was the Russians.
Rachel knew what Michael was doing because he brought home several classified reports from the Oceana Naval Air Station that he had tucked into his backpack. Being curious, Rachel had looked through the reports, unwittingly leaving her fingerprints on them for the FBI to find later. Since her father had been a twenty-year Navy man, she knew that Michael was breaking the law and she warned him.
“Michael, you’re playing with fire,” she said, shortly after they were married. “This is dangerous.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he replied. “My dad and I got everything under control. I can handle this.”
The spying was not the only issue causing Michael and Rachel problems. Michael didn’t seem to understand why Rachel needed to work so hard to get her college degree. Never a scholar himself, Michael saw little value in good grades.
“So you get a C instead of an A. What’s the big deal?” he complained. He began to pressure her about the time she spent studying, particularly when she refused to be with him because of homework. She either was at school, studying, or at work as a waitress at Chi-Chi’s restaurant.
“Rachel didn’t have any time for me after we got married,” he complained later. Rachel, meanwhile, felt Michael was immature. All he ever wanted to do was surf and party with his punk rock friends. Every time she managed to earn a few extra bucks at the restaurant, he spent it.
John contributed to the growing tension between the two newlyweds. He had always told Michael that the pickup truck he had driven since high school was his. But one morning, Michael was hit from behind while driving his truck and it was demolished. When it was time for the insurance company to pay for the damages, Michael discovered that John had never signed the truck’s title over to him, so John received and pocketed the insurance claim payment.
Without the pickup truck, Michael and Rachel had to depend on her 1974 Dodge Dart. Their days began at five A.M., when Rachel drove Michael to the Norfolk Naval Base. Then she would return home, shower, dress, study, and hurry to her eight A.M. class. Michael got off work at three P.M., the same time that Rachel’s classes ended. She would hurry to the base to pick him up, fix dinner, and then leave for the restaurant, where she waited on tables until one A.M.
Bored without his wife at home, Michael began dropping by the restaurant late at night to wait for Rachel. His drinks came out of her tips. Because Rachel could make better tips by working on Saturday nights, she often chose work instead of going out to party with Michael.
The $1,000 that Michael collected from John in April 1984 went fast. Michael said later that be gave $700 of it to Rachel so she could pay for summer school. But their money problems weren’t because Michael and Rachel were poor. He earned $11,000 per year from the Navy and also received extra pay for housing. Rachel’s father also gave her $150 per month to help with her schooling. On a good week, she earned $200 to $300 in salary and tips as a waitress.
The money never seemed to be enough, though, and the main reason was Michael. John had given Michael everything he desired as a teenager, and Michael was completely without financial discipline. He spent money as soon as he received it.
Besides arguments about Michael’s spying and finances, the couple also had troubles because of their relatives. A few weeks after Michael and Rachel were married, John decided it was time for him and P.K. to meet Rachel’s parents. He suggested that everyone get together for dinner at a Norfolk restaurant. It sounded like a great idea but quickly turned into a disaster.
John chose an expensive restaurant that Michael and Rachel simply couldn’t afford. Don’t worry, John told Michael when they met in the lobby, he would pick up the tab.
Even though Rachel’s father had been in the Navy, it soon became clear that he and John had nothing in common. Worse, John showed up a bit tipsy and quickly began drinking heavily. Rachel’s side of the family didn’t drink at all. They sipped iced tea and coffee while John began telling bawdy stories about his adventures as a private investigator.
When the bill finally arrived, John handed it to Michael and asked, “What’s your share?”
John laughed and announced that he would bail out the newlyweds since it was clear that they didn’t earn enough between them to pay their own way. Rachel was embarrassed and Michael was humiliated. As they left the restaurant, Rachel’s father whispered to her. Never again, he said, did he want to go anywhere with John Walker.
After that, Michael and Rachel didn’t see much of John. If Michael wanted to talk to his father, he drove over to his house. Yet Michael still had an intense loyalty, not only to John, but also to Barbara.
For instance, as soon as Rachel married, her father had signed over to her all of her insurance policies and the title and registration for her car. She, in turn, listed Michael as her beneficiary on the insurance policies and as the co-owner of the car. But Rachel discovered Michael had listed two beneficiaries on his life insurance policy. If he died, the money would be split equally between her and Barbara.
In July 1984, Michael announced that he had agreed to pay half of the cost of an airline ticket to bring his mother to Norfolk for a vacation. His sister, Margaret, paid the other half. Rachel was irritated because she knew that she would have to work extra shifts to pay the cost of Barbara’s ticket. Why, she wondered, should they have to pay for his mother’s vacation? If anything, Barbara’s money should be paying for them to have a vacation.
By the time that Barbara arrived in Norfolk, Rachel was steamed, but Michael didn’t care. Michael and Margaret insisted on taking their mother out to celebrate, even though neither could afford it. After dinner they stopped at Chi-Chi’s to say hello to Rachel, who was working. The three of them were having such a good time that they decided to go barhopping, and Michael borrowed some money from Rachel.
Barbara spent the first week of her visit with Margaret, and then, during the first week of August, moved in with Michael and Rachel.
Barbara began unloading her problems on the couple. Her mother, Annie, had died, and she had been forced to ask John for $500 to help cover the cost of the funeral. He expected to be repaid, but Barbara had quit her job at the shoe company in Skowhegan and didn’t have any other job lined up. She was thinking about moving to Hyannis, where Cynthia lived. Perhaps she could find something there.
One afternoon, Rachel arrived home from her classes to find Barbara sitting on the couch, drinking the only liquor that Michael and Rachel had in their apartment – a bottle of Triple Sec.
“I want to go see John,” Barbara announced. “Will you drive me to his office?”
Rachel agreed. On the way, Barbara said she didn’t want Rachel to come inside. Rachel was glad not to be caught in a family squabble.
Barbara marched into John’s office without acknowledging his secretary. “I need ten thousand dollars,” she said. “I want to go to school.”
Barbara’s demand caught John off guard. “I looked up and here’s Barba
ra demanding money,” he recalled later. “She said if I didn’t give it to her, she was going to tell. I tried to calm her down, but she had been drinking. She tells me that she is moving to Hyannis to be with Cynthia because she [Barbara] doesn’t have a job and she can’t pay her rent or the telephone bill or the utilities.”
John said he stalled. It was clear to him, although Barbara denies it, that she was implying she would turn him in if he didn’t give her the money.
“I don’t have any money right now,” he told Barbara.
“The truth was,” John recalled later, “I really didn’t have any money because Whitworth had screwed everything up. If I’d had ten thousand in cash I would have given it to her.”
“Look, Barbara,” John said. “My head ain’t the only one that is going to roll here if you start shooting off your mouth.”
Barbara told him that she didn’t care.
“You promised to pay alimony and you never did,” she said. “You owe me ten thousand dollars and I want it now!”
Barbara was furious when she returned to the car and Rachel. She began chain-smoking, smashing her cigarettes out before they were half finished.
“I’m going to fix him,” Barbara said. “He owes me. He can’t do this.”
Barbara began drinking large glasses of Triple Sec without ice at the apartment. Rachel excused herself, explaining that she had to get ready for work. Hurrying to the telephone, Rachel called Michael.
“Your mother went to see your father today,” she said, speaking softly so Barbara wouldn’t hear, “and they fought. She’s going crazy!”
“Oh my God!” Michael responded. “What happened?”
“I didn’t go in, but she keeps saying that he owes her and she is going to get him.”
Rachel worked late that night, but the next morning when she drove Michael to work, she asked him what had happened.
“I think everything is going to be okay,” he assured her. “We talked.”
That afternoon when Rachel finished her classes, she found Barbara waiting for her. Barbara wanted to know how to catch a bus that would take her to downtown Norfolk.