The Spy Who Came in from the Cold

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 your 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.