Into the Lion's Mouth: The True Story of Dusko Popov: World War II Spy, Patriot, and the Real-Life Inspiration for James Bond

by Larry Loftis

  “Dusko, let’s go have a swim.”

  He shook his head. “I just got here. I want to collect myself.”

  As much as he admired the girl, he needed time to think. And rest. Undeterred, Ljiljana called for another visitor to accompany her. The young man, whom Dusko figured to be an American military attaché, waved his assent. Ljiljana smiled and asked if they could go in style in Dusko’s Jaguar. He tossed her the keys, and moments later Ljiljana and her friend tore off for the beach.

  They could not hear the ticking.

  21

  FIVE LIVES

  Some four hours later, Dusko estimated, he noticed a car, not his Jaguar, racing down the drive. It was a cab, out of which Ljiljana jumped. “Your car, Dusko, it exploded,” she cried as she ran toward him. “We were in swimming and it just exploded all by itself.”

  Dusko had wanted excitement, even danger, but not the endangerment of innocent girls. He contacted Cecil Gledhill, the British station chief who had replaced Colonel Jarvis.

  “Who would want to get rid of me? It couldn’t be the Germans. I’m graded number one with them, and anyway, they’d put me on the grill first if they suspected I was double-crossing them. And the same goes with you.”

  Gledhill agreed it couldn’t be the Germans, and assured Dusko it wasn’t the British. He surmised a surprising culprit.

  The Americans.

  “Some weeks ago an American service showed some curiosity about you,” he said. “They asked if you were working for us. Naturally, we said no.”

  If Dusko was correct in assuming the officer with Ljiljana was American, it didn’t make sense. Yet Sam Foxworth’s words about putting an idea in Hoover’s head echoed. Perhaps the American officer was not in counterintelligence and had no idea of a termination order. Ian Wilson took up the case and asked Arthur Thurston, FBI legal attaché at the U.S. Embassy in London, if he would determine the extent to which TRICYCLE was under suspicion by American authorities in Lisbon.

  While Dusko waited to hear back, he returned to a favorite pastime—gambling. One night at Casino Estoril he was having quite a run at the baccarat tables, winning some six or seven thousand dollars, when a group of friends came by. With them was an attractive Belgian, Louise, who seemed enchanted with Popov’s company. Dusko stuffed the chips in his pockets and suggested sharing a bottle of champagne in the lounge. An hour or so later they were at the Palácio getting better acquainted. Around four in the morning, Dusko remembered, he awoke to the “patter of little feet and the rustling of papers”; Louise was going through his desk drawers.

  After several minutes she returned, slipping quietly back into bed. With a stretch and yawn, Dusko feigned waking up. “For whom are you working?” he suddenly asked.

  “What?”

  “For whom are you working?”

  Louise acted ignorant and Popov slapped her, lightly. She began to weep and said she needed money to pay rent. “Well, this was a bloody lie,” Dusko said later, recalling the incident, “because all she would have had to do was to reach in my coat pocket and lift a thousand dollars in chips and I never would have known the difference.”

  Louise was loyal to the part, never disclosing for whom she was spying, and Dusko let it ride. No sense in spoiling a nice evening, he figured, and besides, the employer might later send a replacement.

  »

  By fall 1943 Dusko’s nerves were shot. He worried constantly about his parents, Ivo, and Johnny, not to mention another assassination attempt. Each day he lived five lives—German spy, British spy, Yugoslav diplomat, import/export businessman, and international playboy. He was drinking and smoking heavily, popping Benzedrine to stay in top form during the day, and sleeping pills to catch a few winks at night.

  Internally, nine ulcers were eating their way through his stomach.

  While he struggled to maintain work and cover, Jebsen’s troubles with the Gestapo and SD were coming to a head. At summer’s end MI6 had received a report that Johnny wanted to remain in Lisbon, and that “under no circumstances” would he return to Germany. On September 4 they heard that he had not been allowed to remain in Portugal, and would be traveling to Madrid and staying at the Ritz.

  »

  On the evening of September 13 Dusko left Lisbon and arrived at Whitchurch Airport at eight the next morning. Tar and Ian met him in London and drove to the Clock House, where they unloaded the Yugoslav diplomatic bags. In addition to a large number of silk stockings, the pouches included the fake Yugoslav seals, three cover addresses, an envelope with £2,500 (five hundred £5 notes), an envelope with $2,000 (twenty $100 notes), two German questionnaires, materials for making secret ink, a Leica camera with six rolls of film, a Penguin edition of John Galsworthy’s The Country House (phrases from which Dusko was to use for coding messages), and a German wireless set contained in a sealed parcel. Inside the lid of the radio transmitter were instructions for setup, frequencies, times to contact, and call signs for the transmitter and control station.

  Later that morning Wilson sent the British currency to the Bank of England for inspection. Of the five hundred £5 notes, 152 were forgeries. Dusko couldn’t let von Karsthoff know, however; he’d have to wait two weeks and then report that a few notes he had used were found to be illegitimate, and that the police had asked how he received them. Naturally, he would ask the major to send replacements.

  Back at the office Ian put the Galsworthy code book in the B1A safe and delivered the secret ink materials to a Professor Briscoe. In a follow-up letter, Wilson informed the professor that Popov’s procedure was “to take the hollow part of a pen nib, put some of the crystals in it and then heat them by holding a match or cigarette lighter under it. When the crystals have melted he takes a match and dips the end into the molten mixture, turning the match stick round and round till the composition forms a match head on it.” Popov was then to use the match for writing. Professor Briscoe, presumably with MI10, was asked to determine the crystal formula and duplicate the process.

  Ian also placed in the file a note Popov had given him to clarify wireless messages while Dusko was in the U.S. Captioned “THE HAIRLESS DOCTOR,” the note stated:

  Johnny explained to me that the equivalent of $10,000, which I was supposed to receive from Miss Mason of Boston was paid to Mrs. Ruza Simic in Belgrade by my brother, who is supposed to be “the hairless doctor.” . . . I was supposed to understand that “the hairless doctor—Gonorrhoea specialist” is my brother because as a young doctor he worked on a new treatment for the cure of Gonorrhoea which required intensive concentration and to force himself not to go out he cut his hair very short.

  Unknown to the Germans, agent PAULA—the “hairless Gonorrhoea doctor”—would soon become double agent DREADNOUGHT, Dusko’s fifth sub-agent.

  Meanwhile, Dusko received his answer—or at least strong evidence—as to who placed the bomb under his car. Days after he returned to London he met a U.S. military attaché at a social function. The man took an immediate and suspicious interest in him, Popov found, and asked to meet with Dusko later. About this time, Arthur Thurston got back to Wilson.

  “During my recent visit to Lisbon,” the FBI attaché wrote, “both the Counselor of the Legation and the Military Attaché inquired of me as to whether I had any information concerning Dusan Popov. These men advised that Popov had been in Lisbon several times during the past few years . . . and were concerned over the fact that he was possibly working for the enemy and were of the opinion that detailed inquiries should be initiated concerning his activities.”

  Thurston did not ask whether they had tried to kill Popov, but advised that Dusko was under British control and that they should refrain from making any inquiries, since “such action might endanger the agent’s position.”

  Wilson did not share this information with Popov, but “C” later told Dusko that he suspected the assassination attempt was by America
ns who had found out that he was a German agent, but had not discovered that he was a double agent.

  »

  On September 20 Wilson prepared for Tar and the Double-Cross Committee a seventeen-page report summarizing the significant information Dusko acquired on his trip. He began by stating that “TRICYCLE reports everything material to us with complete integrity and an exceptionally high degree of accuracy.” As an example, Wilson stated that Dusko had accurately determined the real meanings of ten code words the Abwehr used in their telegrams. Ian also highlighted, however, a disturbing conversation between Jebsen, Kammler, and Popov:

  KARSTHOFF and KAMMLER asked TRICYCLE whether he had seen BALLOON much. TRICYCLE said he had seen him only occasionally and avoided talking to him. JEBSEN said that no man could have written all the letters BALLOON had written without being caught, and that KAMMLER had said to him—JEBSEN,—“No spy could write for three years on the same paper regularly without being caught.”

  Popov’s relationship with Kammler was tenuous. Although not technically Dusko’s boss, the Abwehr I man often acted as his case officer and sent reports to the Tirpitzufer about his work, which was universally regarded as bad. Kammler was working against Dusko, Johnny had said, and reported to Berlin that all of IVAN’s material was “phoney or invented or cut out of newspapers.” Fortunately, Wilson wrote, von Karsthoff hated Kammler and either didn’t forward some of the reports or redacted them to mitigate IVAN’s failures.

  Ludovico then had Kammler recalled to Berlin, Popov told Ian, using the oldest trick in the book: “I learned from ELIZABETH,” he wrote in his report, “that the First Secretary of the German Legation helped KARSTHOFF to get rid of KAMMLER because of a love affair between KAMMLER’s fiancee, who was working in the legation, and the First Secretary.” What von Karsthoff didn’t realize was that Kammler could do more harm to Jebsen and Popov in Berlin than in Lisbon.

  Dusko’s relationship with Jebsen, on the other hand, couldn’t have been stronger. “Johnny’s attitude towards me is that of a great friend,” he told Ian, “and I do not think there is anything, even very dangerous, that Johnny would not do for me.”

  Together, Dusko reported, they worked out a plan to get Johnny to England. On the German side, Johnny would pitch to his Abwehr superiors that he could better supervise IVAN and other agents working in Britain if he relocated to London. On the British side, Dusko would pitch MI5 on the benefits of having Johnny formally admitted as a double agent, and would work on getting him a visa. To assure effective communication, they established codes for telegrams. If Johnny wrote, “Because of illness cannot carry on with business,” it meant that he was in acute physical danger. If Dusko sent a message to Johnny saying, “Operation successful Maria feeling better,” it meant that Jebsen had received a visa to England.

  Ian Wilson’s September 20 memo also noted that Kammler was replaced by a Major Schreiber. Aloys Schreiber was Bavarian, fifty years old, dark, bald, and carried scars on the back of both hands. A doctor of chemistry, Schreiber had apparently been burned by acid.

  Virtually everyone at MI5 and MI6, including “C,” read Ian’s report. In a memo to his colleagues the following day, Colonel Robertson noted: “Had it not been for the fact that we have ISOS [radio intercepts] against which to check the report I feel that we should not have believed the greater part of it and we should almost certainly have come to the conclusion that JEBSEN was double-crossing TRICYCLE.”

  The feedback from the intelligence officers was that everyone wanted Dusko to return to Lisbon and dig for details. Robertson agreed: “TRICYCLE is shortly going back to Lisbon at the request of the Germans and it seems to me that we are in a good position to play for very high stakes.”

  The stakes in Lisbon, however, would be upstaged by an unstable gambler in Madrid.

  »

  Around September 6 Jebsen had checked in to room 530 at the Madrid Ritz. Over the next several days he solicited the advice of two anti-Nazi Abwehr officers, Moldenhauer and Ruser. Unbeknownst to Johnny, Ruser had contacted British Intelligence about a year earlier and bore his own risks. While not actively engaging the German, MI6 had given Ruser the code name JUNIOR.

  Jebsen, Moldenhauer, and Ruser shared similar fates. All knew that Kammler had been recalled to Berlin, and it seemed probable that he would betray at least Johnny and Ruser to the Gestapo. “You know of the charges you are up against, don’t you?” Kammler had said to Ruser before departing. Moldenhauer, closely aligned with Ruser and Jebsen, would surely be suspect as well. But Johnny had the greatest risk; he was convinced that before leaving, Kammler had placed a microphone in his apartment and had secretly recorded a conversation between Johnny and Dusko when they discussed helping the British. Kammler, Johnny believed, would share this recording with the Abwehr, and probably the Gestapo, upon his arrival.

  Johnny’s currency troubles compounded the danger, and circumstantial evidence mounted. First, there was the summons from the Tirpitzufer to return to Berlin. Shortly thereafter a business associate in Frankfurt sent Johnny a telegram stating that he’d risk his life if he returned. Then Freddy von Kageneck, Johnny and Dusko’s college buddy, sent word from Paris that Johnny should escape immediately to the home of Honorah Fitzgerald, their mutual friend in Dublin. Days later an Abwehr colleague in Berlin cabled that “the old Gestapo trouble” had resurfaced.

  The pressure was too much.

  On September 21 Johnny dictated a suicide letter to Moldenhauer. For Dusko, the note meant losing his best friend.

  For IVAN, it was far worse.

  22

  SHOTS RANG OUT

  Kenneth Benton, an MI6 agent in Madrid, recalled being summoned to the British Embassy one morning in late September 1943. In an upstairs room reserved for escaped POWs, a visitor would be waiting under guard. When Benton arrived he saw “a small man who was chain-smoking and looking rather sweaty and apprehensive.” The man announced that he was an Abwehr officer and that he was there to ask the British for protection.

  “You’re in trouble?”

  “The Gestapo are on my tail, because I made a report on their dealings in forged British bank notes.”

  “Have they followed you here?”

  “No, I shook them off.”

  Benton asked for his name, and Johnny gave it, saying, “I suppose you are Mr. Benton.” The SIS officer jumped. No one was supposed to know he was an agent, much less know his name.

  Johnny explained that the Abwehr Madrid office had frequent discussions about the MI6 staff. Jebsen knew, for example, that Benton had been an assistant to a Vienna agent named Kendrick. Somewhat embarrassed, Benton asked what the Abwehr thought of the Madrid station. The general feeling, Johnny said, was that Benton and a man named Ivens were “sly foxes,” but that Miss Gillott, a visa examiner, was who really ran the office. Pleased that Jebsen’s information was at least incorrect there, Benton asked him to continue.

  “I know one Abwehr agent,” Johnny said, “a man I recruited myself, who has either been turned already or would go over to your side at the drop of a hat.”

  Benton asked for the name.

  “Dusan Popov, a Yugoslav. He’s a prolific agent, run from both Belgrade and Lisbon.”

  The discussion continued for a couple hours, Benton remembered, and Jebsen suggested he’d leave by the service entrance. Kenneth shook his head. Johnny would be staying in the embassy that night, Benton said, and the next day he’d move to a safe house. Jebsen gratefully consented.

  That evening Benton sent an encoded summary of the meeting to London, and by ten the next morning a “Most Immediate” message had come back. “ARTIST is telling you the truth,” London advised. “He is a Forscher, and well-known to us. Popov is one of our most successful double agents, pseudonym TRICYCLE. This contact has great potential value. Use utmost caution, but try to obtain names of other agents he has recruited, in case there is one
we have missed.”

  The following morning Benton had the safe house watched and asked the French to check the British Embassy service entrance to make sure it was not under surveillance. With both clear, he escorted Johnny to the flat and continued debriefing. Jebsen gave him a copy of his suicide note, which was addressed to “Herr Oberstleutnant” (presumably a Colonel Toering) and “Herr Major” (presumably Munzinger), his Abwehr supervisors. Moldenhauer had the original, Jebsen said, but had not sent it.

  Benton read the letter, not realizing that “Iwan” was Dusko and “Paula” was Ivo:

  I cannot return to Germany because I would no longer be able to look you in the eyes.

  For the last fortnight I have been carrying a secret around with me. . . . I have therefore decided . . . to tell you the whole truth and take the consequences upon myself.

  When I met Iwan in Portugal, I had the gravest doubts, due to my discussions with Kammler in Berlin, that he was still genuine. . . . Shortly before his departure Iwan then confessed to me that he had not been genuine for a long time. . . . Torn as I was, either to fulfill my duty as a soldier or to break my word given to a friend, there was only one way out, and I have now decided to take it. . . .

  I know that a Court Martial would condemn me to death for what I have done. . . . By taking this step myself, I am hoping to save the “Amt” the shame and my wife the disgrace to bear a soiled name. . . . Do not be afraid that there will be a scandal. I shall cover up all traces carefully, I shall send my things to my Father Confessor for the poor. Then I shall take poison and swim far out into the sea. It may be days before my corpse will be washed up and it will then be no longer recognisable. . . .

  You can only use Paula in future in Serbia as people sent to him by England are almost certain to come into contact with Iwan who then converts them.

  Johnny mentioned that his plan was to have a witness—Moldenhauer—verify his state of despondency to give the note credibility. Feigning despair, he had dictated the letter and then made a copy. His intent, of which Moldenhauer was ignorant, was to send the letter and have the British immediately fly him to Gibraltar, and then to England. Would the British play along?