The Hornet's Sting_ The Amazing Untold Story of World War II Spy Thomas Sneum - Mark Ryan [135]
What neither man knew was that the British had refined their interrogation techniques, and the microphone had been placed in such an obvious position because the prisoners had been meant to find it. A popular MI5 technique was to lull prisoners into a false sense of security so that a second, more ingeniously hidden microphone could pick up their conversation, once they had dropped their guard.
The atmosphere became even more hostile when Tommy and Arne were separated again and the interrogations started afresh. ‘They didn’t rough us up, but it was difficult just the same,’ Tommy admitted. ‘It was constant pressure, talk, talk, they never gave me time to think.’
Ten more agonizing days passed before the questioning came to an abrupt end. By then Sneum had concluded: ‘The British didn’t like me because I was too independent, I argued with them, and I knew too much about the scientific war.’
When Tommy was told to prepare for a change of scenery, he asked if he was to be released. His optimism brought scornful laughter from the guards. He was simply to be taken to a new cell, in a block that had been set aside especially for foreigners. He recalled: ‘Christophersen was in a ground-floor cell just two away from mine. I saw him sometimes but I didn’t have anything to say to him, and it was too late to do anything. I would have been hanged as a murderer.’
Most of Sneum’s new neighbors, it turned out, were Hungarians, but the route to ‘Little Budapest’ took him down corridors which ran through the central artery of the close-knit prison community. Here the majority of inmates were British, and Tommy encountered a problem. ‘The rumours had already spread among the other prisoners that I was a very dangerous spy,’ he remembered. As he was escorted through the prison, cells on all floors suddenly came alive with banging and chanting. ‘They shouted at me, “You fucking spy,” and all that nonsense.’ The prison warders just smiled, and did nothing to silence the inmates. Perhaps the screws had even orchestrated it all for their own amusement. Realizing there would be no punishment for their unruly behavior, the prisoners intensified their campaign. Sneum had to face this abuse on a daily basis, whenever he was taken out of his cell, and there was no one to share the burden of being a hate figure. Judging by the more neutral reaction of their fellow inmates, Helvard and Christophersen appeared to be under less suspicion.
The half-hour Tommy was given in the exercise yard each morning or afternoon should have been the highlight of his prison day. Instead, it provided the platform for some of the most intense verbal abuse. The occupants of the cells overlooking the tiny yard were quick to spread news of the foreign spy’s arrival. ‘Nazi traitor,’ they yelled incessantly. Eventually their insults began to hit home, and Tommy withdrew into himself. Apart from the Hungarians, with whom he could at least share the dubious status of distrusted foreigner, he was surrounded by black-market spivs and violent criminals. These men were seeing out the war in the relative safety of a London prison, while they called for the head of a man who had risked his life for the Allied cause. Every day the abuse from the British inmates echoed louder inside Tommy’s head.
‘German spy!’
‘Scum!’
‘Hang the bastard!’
‘What are you waiting for?’
‘Traitor, you’re going to die!’
The prison governor, Mr Benke, who had taken up his post only the previous year, was appalled when news of the victimization reached him. He ordered the guards to put a stop to it, and for a few merciful days, the cells fell silent when Tommy walked past. He felt relief and hoped for acceptance. Then, inexplicably, the chanting started again with fresh venom.
As the days turned into weeks, life no longer felt worth living.