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Authors: Brian Freemantle

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BOOK: Bearpit
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‘Feel OK?' asked Proctor.

‘Fine,' lied Levin. Persist with his genuine concern over Natalia and volunteer no more than the very minimum to any question, he thought. String it out, in fact: ideally there had to be as many sessions as possible.

Harry Myers led the committee into the room, with Norris immediately behind and Crookshank coming last. The formation told Levin that Myers was in charge, although no introductions were made, which he did not expect. Myers jerked his head to Proctor and Bowden with the familiarity of the earlier escorts and then smiled, with surface politeness, at the Russian.

‘Appreciate your coming here today, sir,' said Myers. ‘Believe you might have things to tell us that we'd find extremely interesting.'

Although he hoped for more meetings between them, Levin studied the three CIA officials with instinctively intense professionalism, trying to memorize in one interview every personal detail for later recall and possible – although now unknown – use. The chairman was a huge bear of a man, obese with neglect and indulgence, flowing beard unkempt, strained suit sagged and bagged around him. Maybe an intentionally careless appearance – as he judged Bowden's appearance to be intentionally careless – to inculcate ill-judged contempt. Just like it would be ill-judgement to infer respect by the man's use of the word ‘sir', which Levin had come to recognize from his time in America to be a verbal mannerism, the equivalent of a comma or a full stop in a sentence and nothing to do with respect. The man to his right was contrastingly neat, crisply suited, crisply barbered, open-faced. The third member of the panel wore a suit and a club-striped tie but Levin was intrigued by the hair, long enough practically to reach his collar. Of the three only the last set out pens alongside the yellow lawyer's pad, to take notes.

Nodding towards Proctor, Levin said: ‘I have promised to help, in any way I can.'

‘You've said you believe there to be a spy within this agency?' demanded Norris, direct.

‘I have also been promised help,' avoided Levin, smoothly.

‘Sir?' said Myers.

‘What progress has there been getting my daughter Natalia from the Soviet Union to join me?'

‘We've gone through all this, Yevgennie,' came in Proctor. As he spoke he shrugged apologetically in Myers' direction. Back to the Russian he said: ‘You know we're doing all we can.'

Ignoring the FBI supervisor, Levin said to Myers: ‘Have you heard anything from your sources?'

Myers sighed. He said: ‘We know your concern – can understand your concern – but until today we haven't been involved …'

‘… Can you do anything now that you are involved?' interrupted Levin, finding no difficulty with the urgency.

‘Like what?' demanded Norris, recognizing that the matter of the man's daughter would have to be disposed of before they could go any further.

‘You've got a CIA residency at the American embassy in Moscow. Assets, presumably,' said Levin. ‘Can't you find out what's happening to her?'

‘You're getting letters telling you what's happening to her,' responded Norris carelessly. ‘She's not under pressure.'

The reply told Levin several things. From it he knew there was some liaison concerning him between the FBI and the CIA. Which therefore meant here at least there was not the animosity that existed in his own country between the KGB and the GRU. And that if they knew she was not under pressure they were opening and reading the letters before passing them on. Monitoring the correspondence was to be expected, he supposed: the KGB would be doing the same in Moscow. There would be a lot of curiosity about him in the American section of the First Chief Directorate. He would have liked to convey some message but knew any attempt at a code was impossible; particularly now he had confirmed the tampering. To extend the conversation, he said: ‘Couldn't you make some inquiries?'

‘But would that be wise?' demanded Myers at once. ‘You are trying to get her out, right? Can't you see the danger, of Moscow discovering the CIA inquiring about her? They could stage a trial over something like that.'

To explain the apparent thoughtlessness of the demand, Levin said: ‘I'm very worried about her. Desperate.'

‘We know, sir, we know,' soothed Myers.

‘Will you tell your State Department how I'm helping: add to the FBI pressure?' persisted Levin.

‘Sure,' said Myers, the promise as glib as Proctor's had been, that first day.

‘What is it that makes you think there's a spy here?' demanded Norris, maintaining his earlier insistence.

‘Things that happened when I was at the United Nations,' started out Levin.

‘What things?' It was the first time the long-haired man had spoken: Crookshank had an oddly high-pitched voice.

‘There was a KGB man, here in Washington …'

‘… Name?' broke in Crookshank, pencil ready.

‘Shelenkov,' identified Levin, as he had been instructed all those months ago, in Moscow. At that moment he was more alert than at any time since the interview began and was aware of the look of recognition that passed between Myers and Norris.

‘What do you know about him?' said Norris.

‘He was ranked number three at the
rezidentura
… regarded as a good operator.'

‘How was he involved with you at the United Nations?' asked Myers.

‘That's it,' said Levin, intentionally obtuse. ‘He wasn't.'

‘I'm not following this,' protested the CIA lawyer.

‘There is occasional liaison, between the embassy here and the UN mission,' said Levin. ‘Just very occasional. There was a standing instruction, which could not be ignored, that Shelenkov should never, under whatever circumstances, be involved in any contact.'

‘Why not?' asked Norris.

‘For the risk of being compromised, in something else.'

‘Something else?' It was Crookshank who asked the question.

‘It was understood that Shelenkov was completely seconded to just one job: that he could be considered for no other operation.'

‘Understood by whom?' demanded Myers.

‘Everyone in New York.'

‘The mission in New York were told this?'

Levin shook his head, conscious of the trap. ‘That is not the way intelligence is conducted … not KGB intelligence, anyway. Individual operations are boxed, agents working quite separately and unknown to each other.'

‘So how was it understood?' said Myers.

Levin allowed the impression of slight irritation. ‘Because of the hands-off order. A KGB officer is never … well, rarely … allowed the luxury of just one assignment. There are always several ongoing.'

‘If Shelenkov were so removed from everything, how do you know he was not active in several, ongoing operations?' said Norris. ‘You explained yourself a few moments ago that the very principle of espionage is limiting the knowledge of operations.'

‘People talk,' said Levin. ‘Other agents in the Washington embassy said he was removed from any normal, day-to-day functioning. Actually complained at the extra work load it imposed upon them.' To convey the impression of strain, which he was genuinely feeling, Levin looked in the direction of the coffee and Proctor took the hint and moved to refill his cup.

‘We're dealing with disgruntled gossip?' said Crook-shank with a lawyer's dogmatism.

Levin shook his head. ‘With good reason for their being disgruntled,' he said, in insistence of his own. ‘You must believe me when I say it's unheard of for anyone in a
rezidentura
to be allowed to operate like that, without good reason.'

‘Gossip,' said Crookshank dismissively.

Concern moved through Levin at the thought that in his keenness to protract the interview over a period, to impress them sufficiently, he might be risking the panel rejecting what he was saying. Before he could speak, Myers picked up: ‘What sort of good reason?'

‘An exceptional source,' said Levin simply.

‘You think Shelenkov had such a source?' said Norris.

‘I know he did.'

‘Know!' The demand came simultaneously from Myers and Norris.

‘There are three ways of transmitting to Dzerzhinsky Square,' recounted Levin. ‘The first is electronically, from the embassy. Secondly there is the diplomatic bag. Moscow are suspicious of both. Anything electrical can be intercepted, monitored …' He paused, looking sideways at Proctor. ‘And the diplomatic bag is not regarded as being completely safe: there have been tests and from them we know that the FBI open them, although they are supposed to be protected by international agreement …'

‘What's the third way?' intruded the lawyer impatiently.

Levin did not respond at once, staring across the intervening table and realizing that of the three, this longhaired man was the one he had to convince. He said: ‘Personal courier. It's practice for people personally to transport things … encoded and concealed in microdots or hidden in some way. This was always the way that Shelenkov's material was moved to Moscow.'

‘How do you know, if he were kept so separate from you?' said Crookshank.

‘I was told, by people in Washington …'

‘… Gossip again,' interrupted the lawyer.

‘Fact,' rejected Levin, prepared. ‘On occasions the courier was from the United Nations. Always it was to move what Shelenkov had.'

‘Who was the courier at the United Nations?' The question came from Bowden but the CIA group showed no annoyance at the questioning being taken away from them.

‘Vadim Alekseevich Dolya,' identified Levin, the lie already prepared, knowing from Bowden's disclosure in Connecticut of Dolya's withdrawal to the Soviet Union that he could not be challenged.

‘Let's accept for a moment that Shelenkov
did
have an exceptional source and that Dzerzhinsky Square were prepared to operate in the unusual way you've described,' explored Norris. ‘You haven't so far given us any indication why that source should be CIA.'

‘Moscow identify the CIA by the same name by which you call yourselves,' disclosed Levin. ‘The Company …' He smiled apologetically. ‘It amuses them, I think. On every occasion when material was carried through UN personnel, Shelenkov used that phrase. “Company business” or “Secrets from the Company”.'

‘You told us he was regarded as a good operative,' reminded Myers. ‘Number three in the
rezidentura
, you said. A good operative would not have been as indiscreet as that.'

Levin appeared to hesitate, before responding. ‘Shelenkov had a problem,' he said. ‘He drank too much. The story that filtered back to us at the UN was that Moscow specifically moved him because they were frightened by his indiscretions: that he might reveal his source, through carelessness.'

‘You're saying that he used the expression about the Company when he was drunk?'

‘Yes.' It was all coming out more quickly than intended and they'd missed something upon which Levin had expected them – wanted them – to pick up. He shifted laboriously in his chair, to give the impression of discomfort.

‘UN personnel?' said Crookshank.

Levin was sure he concealed his relief. ‘I am sorry?' he encouraged.

‘A while back you identified …' The lawyer paused, consulting the legal pad. ‘… Someone called Vadim Dolya as the courier. Then you used an expression about UN personnel, as if more than one man were involved.'

‘There were,' said Levin. He spoke simply, as if surprised at Crookshank's confusion, glad it was this man who had initiated the questioning.

This isn't coming easily, is it, Mr Levin?' demanded the lawyer.

‘I have promised to help,' reminded the Russian. ‘I am responding as best I can to what I am asked, how I am asked it. I do not have a prepared statement: there was no way I could anticipate what you were going to ask me, apart perhaps from the first, obvious question.'

‘I'm sure my colleague was not trying to sound critical,' said Myers, soothing again. ‘It's all going to come out in time.'

From the look that Crookshank gave the unkempt man it was clear he had very much intended to sound critical, but Levin only gave that impression passing thought. He was more intent upon what Myers had said, indicating further sessions: at last! Levin thought, further relieved.

‘Did you ever have any direct contact with Shelenkov?' asked Norris.

‘Yes,' said Levin, conscious once more of the looks that went between the three men he was facing.

‘Maybe you'd better describe the system, so that this stops coming out like we're pulling teeth,' said Crookshank.

‘As I thought I'd already made clear, the primary consideration was to avoid Shelenkov's activities being compromised in any way. Which meant, naturally, the use of cut-outs.'

‘You acted as a cut-out?' pressed Norris.

‘Yes.'

‘How often?'

Levin hesitated, seeming to give the question consideration. ‘Maybe three or four times.'

‘You know the importance of what we're asking!' erupted Crookshank at once. ‘So how many times was it? Three? Or four?'

‘Four,' said Levin.

‘How?'

‘Dolya was the courier to Moscow. So the break had to be between him and Shelenkov, minimizing the risk of any connection if the FBI targeted either of them,' recounted Levin. ‘I had to travel down here from New York, on some pretext, make the pick-up and then transfer it to Dolya in the complete security of our mission when I got back.'

‘Did you ever know what you were carrying?' said Myers.

‘Of course not.'

‘
How
did you carry?'

‘Once a specification catalogue, about a tractor … the sort of thing always available at agricultural shows,' said Levin. ‘Twice sealed letters. The last time it was a holiday postcard.'

BOOK: Bearpit
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