The Miernik Dossier - Charles McCarry [12]
He buzzed an apartment inside this building from the entryway and was admitted. After his buzz, a light appeared in a third-story
window, fourth from west end of building. Subject entered the building at 0331 hours.
At 0334 hours, Bamstein entered the building with a passkey and proceeded to the third floor by way of the fire stairs. Bamstein attached a contact microphone to the door of Apartment 23, which had been identified as the apartment with the lighted window.
Apartment 23 is occupied by Tadeusz Miernik, a Polish national employed by the World Research Organization.
The microphone, which was left in place until 0348 hours, picked up nothing but the sound of typing. Microphone was removed when a voice, identified as Kirnov’s, said “Good night” in Russian. This was the only spoken word overheard by Bamstein.
Kirnov and a second white male assumed to be Miernik walked together to the elevator shaft. Bamstein, concealed in the stairway, overheard indistinct conversation in Russian. Bamstein was able to identify the name “Zofia” spoken several times by Miernik. Also the phrase “Don’t worry, I will see to her,” spoken by Kirnov.
Subject left building at 0351 and returned to his own residence by a circuitous route.
14. TELEPHONE CONVERSATION BETWEEN MIERNIK AND A FEMALE CALLED “ZOFIA” (GENEVA PTT—CORNAVIN BRANCH TO WARSAW 18754) (RECORDED 22 MAY AT 0635 HOURS; TRANSLATION FROM POLISH).
MIERNIK: Hello, Zofia? Zofia?
“ZOFIA”: Tadeusz? Why are you calling?
MIERNIK: Must I have a reason to call my sister? I am lonely for you.
“ZOFIA”: And I for you, Tadeusz. How is Geneva?
MIERNIK: Beautiful. Beautiful. Spring is here.
“ZOFIA”: Warsaw is beautiful, too. Perhaps you cannot remember.
MIERNIK: I remember every day. Zofia, I would like a little holiday.
“ZOFIA”: So would I. It must be the weather.
MIERNIK: With you, I mean. Can you come to me here?
“ZOFIA”: How? I have my studies.
MIERNIK: Have you a passport?
“ZOFIA”: No, I have no passport.
MIERNIK: I should love it if you could get one and come to me for a few days. We will go walking in the Jura.
“ZOFIA”: Why not the Alps? (Laughter)
MIERNIK: There is snow in the Alps.
“ZOFIA”: The Jura, then. I wish that I could, Tadeusz.
MIERNIK: Perhaps you can. Apply for a passport. I long to see you. Write to me when you are coming.
“ZOFIA”: I will try, if I can arrange my studies and a passport.
MIERNIK: I will wait for your letter. Good-bye.
“ZOFIA”: Good-bye, Tadeusz.
15. LETTER FROM ILONA BENTLEY, ADDRESSED TO AN ACCOMMODATION ADDRESS IN BERLIN USED BY A SOVIET INTELLIGENCE SERVICE (TRANSLATION FROM RUSSIAN).
Darling Heinz,
Spring has come to Geneva, and I am foolishly happy about it. The city’s face has changed in a week from that of an old man to that of a young girl with flowers in her hair. Blossoms everywhere, smiles everywhere. It hardly seems possible that a month ago the wind they call the Bise was blowing down the lake, that the bridge railings were curtained with ice, that people were so distressed that one read almost every day of another suicide. (The Swiss are bizarre suicides, they always find some way to do it that not even a Hungarian would have imagined: one man suffocated himself in January by placing a transparent plastic bag over his head, sealing it around his throat with a large rubber band. “He drowned in his own breath!” said La Suisse.)
My little love affair continues. I see him every day. He says nothing of his work. I accuse him of being interested only in an affair of bodies. He laughs. He is not always a gay lover, he has black moods when he will not speak. The state of the world troubles him; he believes that civilization is going into a long night, that the bomb will be dropped, that history is one long prank designed to be played on our generation. On this subject he will not laugh. I never see him on Saturdays. He gets into his car and goes to the Alps. He wears climbing clothes, but perhaps this is a disguise. I accuse him of meeting some wild girl on a mountainside. I have threatened to follow