collection there was the need to remain at the embassy for a reasonable period.’ He was conscious of Myers’ barely perceptible nod of agreement.
Crookshank refused to give up. He said: ‘As a member of the Soviet mission to the United Nations you are an international civil servant. You had no purpose being at the Soviet embassy in Washington in the first place.’
How thorough and all-encompassing the preparations had been, reflected Levin. He said: ‘My attachment to the United Nations was in the mineral division. The Soviet Union has the largest deposits of minerals anywhere in the world. Had there ever been a challenge – which there never was – the explanation was to be that I was actually using my position as a Russian to obtain Soviet mineral data for UN use and benefit. I always brought back with me some statistical documentation, to substantiate such an account…’ Completely to out-argue the long-haired man, Levin turned sideways to Proctor, who had again accompanied him in the helicopter from Connecticut, and said: ‘My approach to you was the first indication the FBI had that I was KGB, wasn’t it? I was not suspect until then?’
Proctor did not directly answer the look, forced into an admission of oversight. ‘No,’ he agreed. ‘You were never suspected.’
‘Always clever!’ said Crookshank, almost petulantly.
Always, echoed Levin, in his mind. He said: ‘I thought I had made it clear how important Shelenkov’s position was regarded. How he had to be protected, at all times.’
‘And we’ve rather drifted away from how we began this conversation,’ came in Myers, appearing irritated at his colleague’s digression. ‘So you’ve told us what Shelenkov looked like and talked about social chit-chat. As it was social chit-chat, where did you meet?’
‘Always in Shelenkov’s office, within the rezidentura.’
‘Never elsewhere.’
‘Certainly never outside of the embassy. Once… no I think it was twice… we had a drink in the embassy mess.’
‘Why?’
‘To pass a period of accountable time. As I said last time, Shelenkov liked to drink.’
‘To go to the mess was his idea?’
‘Everything always had to be initiated by him,’ said Levin. ‘He actually ranked as my superior officer.’
‘What did he drink?’ asked Norris.
‘Scotch whisky, usually. Sometimes vodka,’ replied Levin. He knew none of the questions were as inconsequential as they seemed: obviously they had another source, with which or with whom everything he said could hopefully be checked. Still very much on trial then: and would be, for a long time.
‘What can you remember of these conversations?’ pressed Myers.
‘Even in conversation I had to defer to Shelenkov, of course,’ embarked Levin cautiously. ‘He was a boastful man…’
‘… Tell me some of his boasts,’ interrupted Norris.
‘He would always laugh, sneering. Say he had never been suspected,’ said Levin.
‘He was wrong,’ insisted Crookshank, smarting from the earlier exchange. ‘He was suspected in Canada and came near to arrest in London, before he was transferred here, in 1985.’
‘From which time he successfully ran a spy accorded the highest priority in Moscow without once being detected by you, didn’t he?’ came back Levin. The remark was intended to deflate his constant antagonist but it was Proctor who was embarrassed by the immediately critical attention of the CIA committee. The Russian realized there might be protection in fomenting discord between the representatives of the two agencies: it was something to keep in mind.
‘What other boasts?’ persisted the CIA’s Russian expert.
‘He said something once about Latin America… the Caribbean Basin Initiative…’
‘One isn’t linked to the other,’ argued Norris.
‘Shelenkov linked them,’ insisted Levin.
‘How?’ demanded Myers.
‘Said something about it being inconceivable that you relied upon the sort of people you did in Latin America,’ recounted Levin. ‘Then he said he thought it was madness, the type of people whose word you accepted in the Caribbean. Said they were all drug dealers who only knew how to cheat.’
‘Wait!’ stopped Myers, actually holding up his hand. ‘This is important: very important. “You”. That’s the word you’re using. What or whom did you understand Shelenkov to be talking about? America as a country? Or the CIA, as an agency?’
‘The CIA of course,’ said Levin, as if he were surprised by their need for clarification. He spread his hands apologetically. ‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘I was paraphrasing and that was wrong. What he said was that he thought it inconceivable that the Company relied upon such people in Latin America. Like I said last time, he used that expression…’
‘… I remember what you said last time,’ stopped Myers. On his own pad he wrote ‘Latin American desk’ and followed it with a hedge of exclamation marks, and Norris nodded back in agreement.
‘He definitely mentioned both: Latin America and the Caribbean?’ said Norris.
‘That is my recollection,’ agreed Levin. ‘You will appreciate that at the time I did not attach particular importance to it. Not as I do now.’
‘It’s important all right,’ said Myers, a personal remark.
‘What about countries: any countries?’ pressed Norris. There were sub-divisions and departments for each geographical unit and island, so without more definite leads it would still be a haystack hunt.
‘Never,’ said Levin, at once and unhelpfully. ‘It was a general remark, not specific’
‘What did you infer from what he said?’ came in Crookshank. ‘Could the remark not have been that he knew the quality of our informants from your own Soviet presence in the regions? Not necessarily that he had a source within this Agency?’
‘I do not think that would have been possible,’ said Levin.
‘Why not?’
‘The KGB division of which Shelenkov was then a member – of which I was a member – is limited entirely to the United States,’ lectured the Russian. ‘There is no liaison with other divisions concerned with the Caribbean or Latin America. So therefore no way he could have known. It had to come from somewhere here, internally.’ He was aware of Myers nodding, in agreement again. He would have thought he had by now given them enough to check and to investigate but they gave no indication of wanting to end the session. Levin wished they would. The concentration of remembering the rehearsed disclosures and revelations was physically draining him and he was frightened. Just one mistake, one slip, he thought, the perpetual warning litany.
‘Sure Nicaragua was not mentioned?’ persisted Norris, reluctant to give up.
‘I do not recall it.’
‘Honduras?’
Seeing a way to end the interrogation, Levin shrugged and said: ‘It doesn’t trigger any recollection.’
‘San Salvador?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Levin made himself a bet and won.
Crookshank said: ‘That’s neither a negative nor an affirmative, to the last three questions.’
‘It is difficult to be positive,’ protested Levin. ‘I need time to think, to recall…’
Once more Myers held up his hands in a placating gesture. ‘There’s no hurry, no pressure,’ he said reassuringly. ‘We got all the time in the world.’
‘I’ve been here for five hours,’ reminded Levin. He’d found the helicopter ride easier this time than on the previous occasion: he’d have to describe it in tonight’s letter to Natalia.
‘Let’s break,’ decided Myers, moving his hand again in a halting gesture when Levin started to rise. ‘Think on it, Yevgennie,’ he urged. ‘Try to remember as much as you can.’
‘I will,’ promised the Russian.
On their way back through the Langley grounds to the waiting helicopter, Proctor said: ‘I felt pretty stupid in there a couple of times, Yevgennie.’
‘You know why I held back about what I knew in the CIA,’ said Levin. ‘Nothing I did was intended to embarrass you.’
‘No more surprises about possible mistakes the FBI might have make. OK?’
