This briefcase contains the codes and ciphers of Italy. You, no doubt, have copies of the ciphered telegrams of the local Italian embassy. Take the briefcase and check the authenticity of its contents. Once you have satisfied yourself that they are genuine, photograph them and give me 200,000 French francs.
De Ry also offered to provide future Italian diplomatic ciphers for a similar sum. Voynovich took the ciphers into a back room, where they were photographed by his wife. He then returned the originals to de Ry, denounced them as forgeries, ordered him out of the embassy and threatened to call the police. Though the Centre later changed its mind, at the time it commended Voynovich for his astuteness in obtaining Italian ciphers at no cost to the OGPU. 19
Exactly a year later, in August 1929, there was another, similar walk-in at the Paris embassy. On this occasion the visitor was a cipher clerk from the Foreign Office Communications Department, Ernest Holloway Oldham, then accompanying a British trade delegation in Paris. Voynovich seems to have tried to repeat the deception practiced on de Ry a year earlier. Oldham, however, was more cautious than de Ry, brought no cipher material with him, tried to prevent his identity being discovered and sought to limit his contact with the OGPU to a single transaction. He identified himself only as “Charlie,” misled Voynovich by claiming to work in the Foreign Office printing department, and announced that he could obtain a copy of the British diplomatic cipher. Oldham asked for 50,000 pounds, Voynovich beat him down to 10,000 pounds and they agreed on a meeting in Berlin early the following year. 20
Before that meeting took place, the work of the Paris embassy and OGPU residency was disrupted by the defection of the Soviet chargé d’affaires, Grigori Besedovsky, in October 1929. Accused of counter-revolutionary “plotting,” Besedovsky made a dramatic escape over the embassy wall, pursued by OGPU guards who had orders to return him to Moscow for interrogation and, almost certainly, execution. Besedovsky’s memoirs, published in 1930, caused outrage in the Centre. They denounced Stalin as “the embodiment of the most senseless type of oriental despotism,” and revealed a number of OGPU secrets: among them the offers of Italian and British ciphers to the Paris residency by unidentified walk-ins. 21
These revelations led to Bystroletov’s urgent recall to Moscow. At the Lubyanka, Abram Aronovich Slutsky (later head of foreign intelligence) showed him a copy of Besedovsky’s memoirs. Opposite the reference to the deception of de Ry, the unidentified walk-in who had provided Italian ciphers in 1928, the instruction “Reopen!” had been penciled in the margin by Stalin himself. Slutsky instructed Bystroletov to return to Paris at once, discover the identity of the walk-in swindled two years earlier, renew contact and obtain further ciphers from him. “Where can I find him?” Bystroletov asked. “That’s your business,” Slutsky replied. “You have six months to track him down.” 22
Bystroletov ran de Ry to ground in a Geneva bar. Believing that, after the fraud practiced on him in Paris two years earlier, de Ry might reject an approach from the OGPU, Bystroletov decided to use what later became known as the “false flag” technique and pretended to be working for the Japanese intelligence service. Though de Ry was not deceived for long by the “false flag,” he agreed to sell further Italian ciphers which he claimed to be able to obtain from a corrupt Italian diplomat. Future meetings with de Ry usually took place in Berlin, where the diplomat was allegedly stationed. KGB records, possibly incomplete, show that de Ry was paid at least 200,000 French francs. 23
Bystroletov was also given the task of tracing the unidentified British walk-in (Ernest Oldham) who had offered to sell Foreign Office ciphers to the Paris residency. In April 1930, at the meeting arranged in the previous year, Oldham (codenamed ARNO by the OGPU) handed over only part of a diplomatic cipher, probably as a precaution against being double-crossed, and demanded a 6,000-dollar down-payment before providing the rest. The OGPU tried to locate him after the meeting but discovered that he had given a false address. 24
Probably soon after his first meeting with de Ry, Bystroletov succeeded in tracking down Oldham in a Paris bar, struck up a conversation with him, won his confidence and booked into the hotel where he was staying. There Bystroletov revealed himself to Oldham and his wife Lucy as an impoverished Hungarian aristocrat who had fallen, like Oldham, into the clutches of Soviet intelligence. With his wife’s approval, Oldham agreed to provide Foreign Office ciphers and other classified documents to Bystroletov to pass on to the OGPU. Oldham was given a first payment of 6,000 dollars, a second of 5,000 dollars, then 1,000 dollars a month. Bystroletov portrayed himself throughout as a sympathetic friend, visiting the Oldhams on several occasions at their London home in Pembroke Gardens, Kensington. Oldham’s documents, however, were handed over at meetings in France and Germany.
Having originally tried to hold the OGPU at arm’s length, Oldham became increasingly nervous about the risks of working as a Soviet agent. In order to put pressure on him, Bystroletov was accompanied to several of their meetings by the head of the illegal residency in Berlin, Boris Bazarov (codenamed KIN), who posed as a rather menacing Italian Communist named da Vinci. With Bazarov and Bystroletov playing the hard man/soft man routine, Oldham agreed to continue but took increasingly to drink. Bystroletov strengthened his hold over Lucy Oldham (henceforth codenamed MADAM) by putting his relationship with her on what an OGPU report coyly describes as “an intimate footing.” 25
Though Bystroletov successfully deceived the Oldhams, he seems to have been unaware that the Oldhams were also deceiving him. At their first meeting, Oldham explained that he was “a lord, who worked out ciphers for the Foreign Office and was a very influential person,” rather than, in reality, a minor functionary. At later meetings Oldham claimed that he traveled abroad on a diplomatic passport illegally provided for him by a Foreign Office friend named Kemp whom he alleged, almost certainly falsely, was in the Secret Intelligence Service. Having helped Bystroletov to acquire a British passport in the name of Robert Grenville, Oldham told him that the passport had been personally issued by the Foreign Secretary, Sir John Simon, who believed it to be for a minor British aristocrat of his acquaintance, Lord Robert Grenville, then resident in Canada. “I didn’t know Lord Robert was here in Britain,” Simon was alleged to have remarked to Oldham. Mrs. Oldham also specialized in tall stories. She told Bystroletov that she was the sister of an army officer named Montgomery who, she claimed, held the (non-existent) post of head of the intelligence service at the Foreign Office; 26a later note on the KGB file, probably dating from the 1940s, identified the mysterious and possibly mythical Montgomery as Field Marshal Viscount Montgomery of Alamein! Expert though Bystroletov proved as an agent controller, his ignorance of the ways of the Foreign Office and the British establishment made him curiously gullible—though perhaps no more so than the Centre, which was also taken in. 27
De Ry, meanwhile, was providing Bystroletov at meetings in Berlin with a mixture of genuine diplomatic documents (Italian ciphers probably chief among them) and colorful inventions. According to Bystroletov, when asked whether some of his material was genuine, he replied indignantly, “What kind of question is that? Of course they are… Your Japanese are idiots. Write and tell them to start printing American dollars. Instead of paying me 200,000 genuine francs, give me a million forged dollars and we’ll be quits.” The Centre was taken in by at least some of de Ry’s inventions. Possibly to disguise the fact that he was also trying to sell Italian ciphers to the French and other purchasers, he claimed that Mussolini’s son-in-law, Count Galeazzo Ciano di Cortellazzo (later Italian foreign minister), had organized “an extensive trade in ciphers” and, when a cipher was missing from the Berlin embassy, had ordered the liquidation of an innocent scapegoat to divert attention from himself. Since the OGPU believed that Western intelligence agencies, like itself, organized secret assassinations, it had surprisingly little difficulty in crediting de Ry’s improbable tale. 28De Ry appears to have tried to deceive the OGPU on two other occasions by putting it in contact with bogus officials who claimed to have German and British diplomatic ciphers for sale. 29
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