Chapter 12 Chapter Eleven

On the morning of November 21, 1957, on the white sandy beach of Cascais, a fishing village near Lisbon, a group of playful children were looking for colorful shells and starfish, and picking up the dying ones washed up on the beach by the tide. fish.Suddenly they found a man lying there with a surprised expression on his face.Although the dark gray worsted woolen suit he was wearing had been swelled by seawater, the overall impression reminded one of the well-dressed image of the deceased.On the feet of the deceased were a pair of half-top shoes and socks, a white shirt with a black tie, a round hole and a large bloodstain on the left side of the shirt near the heart, and some blood spots on the coat.Apparently he had been sent from this world to another supposedly better world with one bullet and one not too small bullet.When the children found the dead body, they all screamed and ran away.Five minutes later, some fishermen and women came here in a hurry.An old man said to his son, "Joseph, go and see if this gentleman has a passport on him." Joseph went and knelt beside the dead man and rummaged through his pockets.It turned out that the deceased had four passports on him.

"Please start to write according to my dictation, miss." Police officer Maniel Vajda of Lisbon's murder detection department said to his female secretary: "The dead person found on the coast of Cascais is a very special case. Masculine, well, remove the words that are very masculine, a man of about forty-five to fifty years old. The forensic examination results show that the deceased was shot dead by an American 9mm military pistol... Now another Let's start!" "In the dead man's clothes, is it written, miss? Found eight hundred and ninety-one dollars and forty-five cents, two restaurant bills in New York, one bill for the Whale Hill Hotel in Astonia, New York, A German driver's license issued in Thomas Lewin's name, an old gold pocket watch and four passports. Two of them were German passports named Thomas Lewin and Emil Jonas, and the other two One is a French passport, and the names are Maurice Orsay and Jean-Leblanc . . . and now another paragraph."

"The photographs of Jean Leblanc and, more precisely, of Emile Jonas are found in the files of the Criminal Police Section, which match with the photographs in the four passports of the deceased. In view of the foregoing, we can conclude that The man killed was none other than Thomas Levin, the super spy who has become famous in recent years. He has undoubtedly become the victim of a spy revenge. The investigation of the case is making progress... alas, what a bullshit. When Have you ever heard that someone has solved a murder case among spies? The murderer has already gone far away and fled... Uh, I said miss, are you crazy? Who told you to write the last few sentences?!"

"This man has no longevity, and he has never enjoyed a peaceful day in his short life..." the priest said beside the newly dug grave at 10:30 on November 24, 1957. .The body was buried some time later. On November 24, 1957, it was cloudy, rainy, cold and windy, and the few mourners shrank from the cold. Except for a young woman, all the people present were men.Looking at the clothes of these people, it is clear that they must be colleagues of the deceased.Fritz Roth, former Major of the Weyland Sector Command, bowed his head. Beside him was the British spy Lovejoy, sobbing secretly, and the Czechoslovakian spy Gregor Marek was bowing all the time. Body, Colonel Simon and Colonel Debra of the French Intelligence Agency seemed to be deep in thought.The German colonel Erich Werth of the Military Intelligence Service in Paris and the little Major Blanier were in distress.Next to the priest is the American spy Palmena Fieber.

"May you rest in peace, Thomas Levin! Amen!" the priest prayed quietly. "Amen!" echoed this extraordinary group of mourners.They all knew Thomas Levin, and they had all fallen into his traps.Now their superiors have sent them here again, to find out if the dead man was really that damned... bastard. "Thank God! That's right, it's him." Everyone thought so tacitly.The grave was filled, and Thomas Levin's former colleagues were shoveling dirt into it.After filling it out, the workers moved an ordinary marble to the grave as a tombstone. Everything was ready, everyone went away, Branier and Werther walked side by side.Neither of them knew the countryman named Fritz Roth, nor did he recognize them.This is because Fritz Roth was working for a newly formed German intelligence service, while Werth and Blanier were working for another recently formed German intelligence service.In 1957 Germany had several intelligence agencies again.

At the gate of the cemetery, the spies got into taxis.In fact they could have rented a small coach together, and they both lived in the same hotel, the most luxurious of course.Anyway, at any time in the motherland, someone will come to reimburse them for all expenses.From that luxurious hotel, they communicated with Britain, France, and Germany, and talked with the people behind the Iron Curtain.Got on the phone and they said that yellow shark was served and eaten this afternoon or something, which means I saw the dead man in the funeral home, and the dead man was Levin. So on the afternoon of November 24, 1957, large stacks of files were sealed in the centers of the intelligence agencies.All the dossiers had the same name on their covers, Thomas Levine.Now after the name there is a symbol in the shape of a cross representing the person's death...

While Thomas' former colleagues kept hanging up the phone, Palmena sat leisurely in her room.She ordered whiskey, ice cream and soda.She took off her high heels and put her two beautiful long legs flat on the stool.She just sat on the armchair leisurely and contentedly, while puffing out circles of smoke, while turning the whiskey glass in her hand around.Her dark eyes shone like stars, and her lips seemed to be smiling all the time, laughing to herself at a great secret joke.Outside the window, autumn rain began to patter.The vast night unknowingly enveloped Lisbon.Suddenly Palmena raised her glass and shouted: "Cheers, dear Thomas! To you alive, to me!" Of course she was a little drunk.Otherwise she wouldn't have said these few words.Because Thomas couldn't hear her.He's not in her room, he's not in this hotel, he's not in Lisbon, he's not in Portugal, he's not in Europe, he's in...

We have already talked about that day, a guest at the villa of the top man of the FBI in the hills of Maryland.That day he made a surprising condition.Allow him to end his life after completing his mission.Hoover asked indifferently: "Then how do you want to die?" So Thomas told Palmena and him about the way he imagined to die.His last words were: "Looking forward to the moon as you look forward to the stars!... If you look forward to a peaceful day, it seems that I must die!" Hearing the blueprint for death that Thomas designed for himself, Palmena and Hu Will couldn't help laughing. "We'll discuss the details later," Thomas said. "For now, would you please tell me more about my Dunya? And that Mr. Morris, where is he now?"

"In Paris," said Edgar Hoover. "Really, in New York." "It was in New York, and then he went to Europe. He stayed at the Hotel Clion in Paris. He must have lost his mind. For he left the hotel on the afternoon of the 4th of May and walked past de la Cancal. De Plaza to the American embassy. He asked to see the ambassador, he said I was a Soviet spy..." "I am a Soviet spy, and I can tell you about the largest spy network in the United States." Victor Morris told the American ambassador in Paris.The time at that time was 17:45 on May 4, 1957. "Why are you doing this, Mr. Morris?" asked the Ambassador. "Because I need your help," Morris replied.His face was broad and slightly puffy, and he wore heavy black-rimmed glasses. "I was ordered to leave the US and go back to Moscow via Paris. I understand what it means, they want to kill me."

"Why did these Soviets want to kill you?" "I... I think I didn't get things done well." Morris replied in pure American English: "Playing with women, drinking too much, talking too much. And Dunya..." "Who is Dunya?" "Dunya Meronin, wife of a Soviet officer. Worked as an outpatient assistant for a doctor in New York. I got on with her, but the constant quarrels got people's attention. Mark told me I had to get out of here." "Who is Mark?" "For ten years he was the head of the biggest spy network in the United States."

Things soon became clear.It turned out that the man Victor Morris had many aliases.His real name was Haikhanim, and he was a lieutenant colonel in the Soviet Secret Service.Trained in the Soviet Union from 1946 to 1952, preparing to be sent to the United States as a spy and work with the legendary Mr. Mark.Up to six years of training!One has to think about what that means, and it means that Hayhanim Arias Morris must completely forget his old self.After passing various examinations, Haikhanim brought a perfectly forged American passport to Mikhail Swerin, secretary of the Soviet Union's mission to the United Nations, on April 14, 1952. check in.This person met him in the utmost secrecy, gave him money for the operation and said to him: "You contact Mr. Mark, we will never see each other again. From this moment on, don't expect me to help you. I am a diplomat and I have nothing to do with you." "Then how do I recognize Mr. Mark?" "He'll hang up. Come to your hotel. I've got a little carved pipe here. You take it. When Mark tells you where the fitting is, you put the pipe in your mouth as a sign. " Three days later, Mark notified him of the meeting place on the phone, and met at the bathroom of a movie theater in Frasing on time at 17:30.At half past five that afternoon, Morris arrived at the appointed place on time.At this time, a tall man of about forty-five years old, almost bald on the top of his head, came out of a small cubicle, with a suspicious look on his face.Big ears and thin lips, wearing a pair of rimless glasses.He wore a flannel suit, a hand-stitched shirt, and a small tie.He looked at Morris, looked at the oddly shaped little carved pipe in the corner of his mouth, and finally nodded hurriedly and said, "On time, Morris..." FBI Director Edgar Hoover was speaking, Thomas Levin was listening intently, and Palmena sat beside him looking serious.Juville lit a thick and long cigar, and puffed out a big mouthful of sweet-smelling green smoke: "Let me finish my sentence. Morris and Mark don't get along at all. You've seen it since we met. I can't get used to me, I can't get used to you. But they have to be together..." Yes, they have to be together now!That afternoon, in the bathroom of the movie theater, Mark handed Morris the money and a code-breaking book, and told him how to disguise.Morris was asked to run a photo studio, so that the authorities would not suspect what he was doing for a living.In addition, Mark also told him how and where to access secret information.Mark said that secret information is all microfilms, and microfilms smaller than the eye of a needle should be hidden in coins, used paper handkerchiefs or orange peels.All it takes is a small magnetic piece to attach them to the underside of a bench, payphone, trash can or mailbox. "The work is going smoothly." Hoover continued: "As I said just now, Morris hates Mark, but even so, he has completed the tasks that Mark entrusted to him quite well." "What tasks were given to him?" "Unfortunately, they are all very important tasks." Hoover sighed and said, "According to what Morris said in Paris, we must not have any illusions. The Soviets have mastered a lot of information with the help of the Mark organization! For example Come on, Morris himself admits that he went to the New Hyde Park Rocket Center to gather information." "Hasn't there been a slip-up?" Thomas asked. "It happened once, and this leak at least proves that Morris's confession is true." Hoover said as he put an old five-cent coin on the table and pushed it in front of Thomas: "You put Pick it up and drop it." Thomas picked up the coin and dropped it, and when it hit the ground, the coin split in half.When I picked it up, I found that the middle of the coin had been hollowed out, and a microfilm was attached to one side of the coin."There's Mark's code notice on this microfilm," Hoover said. "The smartest minds in the FBI have been trying to decipher that code for four years, in vain." "How did you get this coin?" Thomas asked. "Acquired by accident," said Edgar Hoover. "Picked up in 1953 by a little newsboy named James Bozat." It was a hot summer evening, and a freckled newsboy raced down the stairwell of a barracks-style tenement in New York City's Brocktown.Unexpectedly, his foot slipped, and the little newsboy fell to the ground, and the money in his pocket was scattered all over the floor.What a pity!James complained softly as he prepared to pick up all the money that had been scattered on the floor.As I was picking it, I suddenly felt that there was a coin that was a bit strange, and it felt different from other coins of the same type in my hand.James turned the nickel over and looked at it, when it split in half.He saw a small black spot on half of the inner layer.James just saw a spy movie a few days ago.That movie was about hiding microfilms with intelligence in cigarette packs.So maybe this is also a microfilm? "He first took this coin to the nearby police sentinel." The duty leader laughed at the kid.But Sergeant LeFon said, "Stop laughing at the kid, Joe, let's send this to the FBI. Maybe we'll be in the paper someday!" "Several years have passed in a blink of an eye. The matter of this microfilm is still a mystery. The person who made this film has still not been found. During the period from 1953 to 1957, those American countries The heads of the security agencies are becoming more and more aware that there is a terrible network of espionage in the country. It is increasingly threatening the country..." Edgar Hoover went on to Thomas: "Recently Morris must have been more depraved in the past few years. Since he met Dunya Mourning, his situation has gone from bad to worse. They often fight. Mark must have reported to the superiors, because Morris was suddenly transferred back to China. Instructions. So he went to the American embassy in Paris to apply for asylum, and gave everything he knew." "How much does he know?" Thomas asked. "Not much, but not a little. Because Morris followed him one time, though that mysterious Mark did his best to keep Morris from knowing where he lived. According to him, Mr. Mark Lives... do you know where he lives?" "Since you said it so mysteriously, I guess he lives at 252 Furten Street." Edgar Hoover said, "Yes, that's where the little newsboy stumbled and picked up coins." in the house..." "Over the past few weeks, several of my staff, including Miss Fieble, have re-examined every occupant of the building and found that the most popular tenant in the building is exactly the same as the Mark introduced by Morris. Mr. is in the same situation. He is a painter and lives on the top floor. His name is Goldfuss, Emile Robert Goldfuss. American citizen. He has lived in Folten Street 2 since 1948. Number one hundred and fifty-two. Go ahead, Miss Fieber." Palmena said: "We've been watching Goldves closely for weeks. A dozen radar-equipped, The FBI car with transmitters and TV cameras, Goldves was followed by our people every step of the way. But still to no avail." Thomas said: "Since you suspect that he is a spy, why don't you call him a spy? He arrested?" Palmena shook her head and said: "We are not in Europe, Mr. Levin!" Edgar Hoover explained: "In the United States, he can only be arrested if he has definitely violated the law. Him. Only then would a judge issue a warrant. We're only suspecting that Goldves might be a spy, but where's the evidence? We can't prove he was a spy, and as long as we can't come up with solid evidence, then the No judge in the country will allow us to arrest him." "What about Morris?" "Morris provided us with all the information in secret. His family members are still in Russia, and he would not stand up and confront Goldves publicly under any circumstances." "Is it possible to go to his house and conduct a secret search?" "If Goldves wasn't home, we could of course search his house. I'm sure we'll find a short-wave transmitter and a lot of other things that would prove he was a spy, but even that wouldn't There is no way to convict him!" "Then why?" "His lawyers would have asked our people to swear to tell the truth and tell them where they got the incriminating material. If they got it through illegal house raids, the judge would have the power to ban the use of the material. Come and sue Goldves." "How on earth can we catch this Mr. Goldves?" Edgar Hoover smiled slightly. "Then I have to ask you, Mr. Levine. That's why we sent someone to bring you here." Here you are. You are an old friend of Dunya Mullonin's." "Russians cook lamb with onions!" exclaimed the fat-faced Boris Rogenlov. "No! The Russians don't add onions to their roast lamb at all!" Thomas Levin also pushed back at him. It was half past one at noon on June 19, 1957.The weather in New York was extremely hot that day, and in the kitchen of a Russian-owned snack bar on Forty-first Street, there was a great argument about whether the Russians should add onions to the roast lamb.Mr. Loganlove, a fat man, is the owner of the snack bar.Thomas had been coming to this snack bar for several days when he had nothing to do.This is because Dunya Mörlonin always comes here for lunch.She works nearby, in a clinic called Dr. Masson.The reunion was a sad one, and Dunya, who was as warm and charming as ever, was on the verge of tears at the mention of Victor Morris.After talking and talking, I still can't hear anything suspicious.Whatever Dunya said was of no use to Tomas.After leaving Dunya, he went to Pamena, and through Pamena he communicated with Juville.She has a small house in Manhattan.Thomas was staying at the Whale Lodge Hotel in Astoria. Days passed, and things were still unclear, and Geldevs had nothing to catch.He kept meeting with Dunya again, always trying to find some clues about Goldves' crime.But Dunya never seemed to know Goldves, and she was always weeping about her Morris. When Dunya started eating with Thomas one day, she was particularly restless, and she had headaches and complained that Thomas was wrong and that was wrong.Finally she calmed down for a while and said, "I'm sorry, it's all because of the boring job, I'm getting bored to death!" "What happened?" "I think half the population of the city needs to be vaccinated." "Get vaccinated?" "Protection against polio with a new blood plasma. Dr. Salke did it. You must have heard of this guy, haven't you? Getting vaccinated is not the most annoying thing! The most annoying thing is writing the registration form Everyone is writing to death!" "What exactly should be registered?" "Everyone who gets the shot has to show his birth certificate." "why?" "It's required by law! And I have to transcribe all the birth certificate numbers. And the names of the issuing authorities. Hundreds of authorities! I'm going crazy!" At this moment, his heart tightened. It turned out that a beautiful young woman in a yellow summer dress just walked into the snack bar.He couldn't believe his glasses.crazy!She must be crazy!The FBI has strict rules that never allow two cooperating agents to meet in public.But Palmena didn't seem to care about this, she actually walked to Thomas' table, sat down directly opposite him, and then stared blankly at Dunya...Of course, after a while, Dunya realized that something was wrong . "Who is this?" "What... what?" "The one over there. She keeps staring at me. Do you know her?" "Me? Who are you talking about?" "That smeared yellow dress, what are you pretending to be like!" "My God, how do I know who she is!" "You lied! You know her! More than just knowing her!" Now it's all good, and everyone has no peace during the whole meal.By the time it was time to drink black coffee, Thomas' shirt was soaked with sweat.And Palmena Fieber was still staring at them intently. When Thomas returned to the Whale Hotel in Astoria, a gentleman named Roger Ackroyd was waiting for him. Everyone in the hotel knew that Mr. Ackroyd was an exporter who often cooperated with European businessmen. .The two businessmen who were not businessmen sat down in the deserted bar.Ackroyd said quietly: "There is no delay, Levin. Are you making any progress?" "Not at all." Ackroyd said: "Oops, there are signs that Geldeves will slip away immediately. I don't know where he will slip away." "Then defend borders, airports, ports, etc." "Can you do it? How can there be so many people. Goldfus will definitely bring a fake passport that is absolutely authentic when he leaves." "Then you think he's carrying all genuine and fake documents?" "I don't know. I'm afraid I can't get it all in a hurry. But there must be a passport. I think unless there is a miracle, this person will slip out of our hands in all likelihood." Thomas said at length. sighed.He thought sullenly that if nothing goes right, everything goes wrong.Things were troublesome enough, and an assistant just happened to be such a queer Miss Faber. "You deserve a good beating!" Tomas yelled at Palmena, who was panting to vent his anger in Palmena's house that night.Palmena had put on a dressing gown, which was obviously bare. "Why did you come to Loganlov's?" "Haven't I even a right to go to Loganlov?" "As long as I'm there, you have no right to go!" "I didn't know you were there!" Palmena yelled at the top of her voice. "You knew it well beforehand!" "So what if you know!" "Since you know why you came here?" "Because I want to see your beauty Dunya!" Thomas froze.He shouted with all his strength: "Just because of this, do you dare to disregard the success or failure of the entire operation?" "Don't you yell at me like that! You must be charming woman!" "If you stop talking I'll beat you!" "you dare!" "See if I dare?" As he spoke, he rushed towards Pamena.Unexpectedly, this seasoned female spy made a judo grab, and in the blink of an eye, Thomas had been twisted by her arm.He fell down on the carpet with a whoosh.Then Palmena let go of Thomas with a laugh and ran away.He got up and caught up with her, pinning Palmena to his knees.She struggled desperately, kicked her feet wildly, and yelled vigorously: "Let me go, let me go, do you want to let me go, watch me kill you..." The dressing gown was lifted, and Pamena Sure enough, he didn't wear any clothes.She punched Thomas hard.She screamed and kicked and bit.At this moment Thomas felt more and more that Palmena resembled his Santa.For a moment, he felt that the blood in his veins was rushing faster and faster.He thought to himself that he was exactly the same as Santa.Oh my God!Suddenly, he couldn't control himself any longer and threw himself on Pamena.His lips touched hers.She bit her lip hard at first, but after a while, she slowly opened her mouth.Her lips softened, and she finally put her arms around Thomas' neck.At this time, the two were intoxicated by the sweetness of their first kiss.They all forgot about the time, place and the whole world.Thomas woke up, only to see a pair of loving eyes looking at him in front of him.Palmena whispered in his ear: "I was too jealous at that time, I was too jealous of that Russian woman of yours..." Suddenly something on Palmena's arm caught Thomas' attention. It was a round scar from past vaccinations.Palmena was about to kiss him, but froze when she saw him like this.She asked, "What's the matter with you?" Thomas looked at her absently and said, "Goldeves finds him in a dangerous position. He's going to try to leave America and go back to Russia. Vaccinations of all sorts. That's the rule. He has to show the doctor his birth certificate and registration number before getting vaccinated..." Thomas became more and more excited as he stammered, "Birth certificate, no Passport...his fake passport is a real fake passport...but is his fake birth certificate a real fake too? If Geldeves came up with a fake birth certificate, then sorry, man. We can If you convict him, you can arrest him." On the evening of June 19, 1957, 277 FBI agents in the New York City area received an urgent call to immediately find 10,000 people in this large city with a population of 10 million. Three thousand eight hundred and ten doctors.These two hundred and seventy-seven staff members all carried a photo of a man about forty-five years old to search everywhere, and kept asking questions to the doctors: "Doctor, do you know this man? Is he Your patient? Have you vaccinated him recently?" During this period of time in the luxurious Aristoia Whale Villa Hotel, Thomas was anxious like an ant on a hot pot, and someone called him from time to time.The calls were all from the FBI, and they reported Thomas in code that the operation was going nowhere.Every time after answering the phone, Thomas always put down the headset with a sigh. This situation suddenly took a 180-degree turn at 4:35 pm on June 21.This time, a deep voice on the phone said, "There are some clues." Thomas jumped up as if he had been electrocuted, and he asked, "Where is it?" Number four and five, Dr. Wilcox." Twenty minutes later Thomas was in the small consulting room of Dr. Ted Wilcox, an elderly doctor.He opened his business in a poor neighborhood of New York.Dr. Wilcox looked and looked, and then said: "I still remember this man, mainly because there are very few well-dressed people who come to see me." Dr. Wilcox went on: "This man Mr. came to me on the afternoon of June 16th, and he came for vaccinations. I filled out an international epidemic prevention certificate for him, and everyone who travels to Europe must have this certificate." The old man The doctor limped to his medical card cabinet to search for the card for June 16th.He took out one and said, "This gentleman's name is Martin Collins. Judging from his birth certificate, he is an American citizen in the Manhattan area. He was born on July 1, 1910, and his birth certificate number is 32027/7/71897." At 5:15 p.m., Thomas Levin and an FBI agent arrived at the Manhattan Birth Registration Office, where they forced two officers to work overtime.Finally one of the officers stared at a dusty, yellowed registration card and said: "Martin Collins... Collins, Martin. What the hell is going on! 32027/7/ 71897, is that the number you mentioned just now?" "Yes," Thomas said.The officer looked up at Thomas and said, "Listen then, sir. This birth certificate was completed on January 4, 1898, and the person is a girl named Emily Wall." Man. The girl died on January 6, 1902, at the age of four, of pneumonia." Hearing these words, Thomas said softly, "He can't run away now. " Over the door hung a brass plaque with the words Emile Robert Goldves gleaming on it.It was on the top floor of the building at 252 Folten Street, and at 7:00 p.m. on June 21, 1957, Thomas and another agent came to Goldves's door forward.The door opened, and it was opened by a thin man in blue painter's smock.Still holding a palette in his hand, he looked at the visitor with a smile, with a friendly and intelligent expression on his radiant face: "Sir, what do you mean? Are you joking? Advertising?" "Mr. Geldeves, or you are called Mr. Mark, or you are called Mr. Collins." The FBI agent said: "You are under arrest." "Arrested? Arrested by whom?" "By the FBI," said the painter kindly. "You can't arrest me, dear sir. I did nothing illegal, and you don't have a warrant." "Mr. Goldves, we have." Thomas said with a smile on his face and took two steps forward. "who are you?" "A resident of this house can be regarded as a neighbor of yours." Thomas replied slowly: "But what I mean is, I am a resident of the FBI office in this house, Goldves Look, sir, here is your arrest warrant. It's been in my possession for days, and I didn't use it because I was short of a good reason for arrest. But the good reason was found yesterday, We found a fake birth certificate..." At this time, two people jumped into the studio from the door and the roof respectively.Thomas continued with a smile: "We also brought a few friends, because we know that you are certainly not just a polite birth certificate forger who only talks but doesn't do anything." "Then what am I doing?" "I'm probably the most outstanding spy in the modern Soviet Union. You know, I never say compliments." Thomas still had a smile on his face. His studio was then searched.Found a birth certificate in the name of Martin Collins and some papers in the name of Goldves, and $3,545 in cash, and one registered in the name of Collins The boat ticket to Europe, the boarding time was July 1, 1957, and a powerful short-wave transmitter was also found between the two oil paintings.The FBI helped Goldves pack a small suitcase.Thomas, who was watching them clean up, noticed that Mr Goldves had thrown away some obviously used paper towels.So Thomas picked the crumpled tissues out of the wastebasket.Suddenly Thomas noticed that Mr. Goldves's smile had disappeared and his face had turned pale.Thomas carefully sorted out the crumpled waste paper towels and found that they were densely covered with small black spots, like fly droppings. Two days later, an explosive news shocked the whole United States.The most dangerous top spy of the Soviet Union has been arrested!Based on the microfilm he hid in the waste paper towels, his complex code book was found out, as well as his real name and real history.It turned out that the man who had been engaged in espionage activities in the United States for ten years was a colonel of the Soviet Intelligence Service, and his name was Rudolf Ivanovich Abel. On October 23, 1957, the Soviet spy Abel was convicted by the court.Two days later two men came to Edgar Hoover's office in Washington.They were Thomas Levine and Palmena Fieber.Hoover was in a good mood that day, and he greeted them both cheerfully. "Is there anything you need my help with?" he asked cheerfully. "Now is the time for you to fulfill your promise." Thomas looked at him with a smile and said, "You once promised me that I could die after completing the task. Do you remember?" "Remember." Hoover replied slowly. “既然如此，那就好。”帕麦娜高兴地叫了起来：“现在任务已经完成了嘛！快点安排个死法嘛！事情就绪之后我们想尽快结婚。”胡维尔咬着嘴唇说道：“好吧，我履行我的诺言。不过您别以为这件事很好玩，列文先生。这种事会使人感到痛苦，非常痛苦。” “只要能死就行，别的就顾不得那么多了。”托马斯平静地说：“我还听说您的哈珀尔诊所里有的是第一流的专家嘛。” “那好吧，我同诊所的人去布置这件事。那您就好好去死吧。祝您幸福，祝您同帕麦娜美满幸福。不过您还得等几周才死得成！我们还得有个尸体才行。要找到和您外貌相似的尸体不是一件轻而易举的事。” “胡维尔先生，我求您快些，好吗？”托马斯固执地说。 十月二十七日，帕麦娜·菲伯尔陪着托马斯·列文来到了哈珀尔诊所，这个诊所在美国某一个与世隔绝的地方，四面都是高墙，日夜都有联邦调查局的特工人员警戒。托马斯得到了一个舒适的房间，窗户朝着一个大公园。帕麦娜幸福而困倦地叹了一口气说：“啊，太美啦！总算同您单独在一起了！” “如果别人真能让我们单独在一起的话，那才真叫美呢。”托马斯温柔地抚摸着她说：“真是新鲜！你想想往后我将是另一副面孔，证件也变了，名字也变了，国籍也换了。一切的一切都变了，哪一个四十八岁的人有这份福气？”他说着吻了帕麦娜一下：“小宝贝儿，你喜欢我成个啥样子？” “你这话是啥意思？” “你想想，在他们开始在我脸上动刀子整容之前，我总还可以谈谈自己的愿望。比如说耳朵要做成什么样呀，鼻子要改成什么样呀等等。”帕麦娜听了这些话，忍不住哈哈大笑起来。她说：“告诉你，我从小就喜欢希腊人的脸形。我曾经想过我将来的丈夫的轮廓像个希腊人！你觉得……你以为……”帕麦娜说到这里只觉得脸上阵阵发热，就赶紧说了一句自我解嘲的话：“我真傻。” “你指的是不是希腊人的鼻子？”托马斯蛮有兴致地问道：“如果你觉得只需改改鼻子的话，那我的耳朵是不是可以用不着整形呢？” “完全正确。亲爱的，除了鼻子外其余都用不着改。” “有把握吗？其实时间倒有的是，如果你还想要我改什么的话，我可以告诉大夫，让他们在做手术时顺便一道做了不就得了，那些大夫肯定可以把我周身弄得更美。你说大就大，你说小就小……” “不行！”帕麦娜急得叫起来：“不行！其他什么都不许动！否则就不准去整容，就像现在这个样子就行了！” 于是一连几天，三个医生便忙着给托马斯整容。他们要给他照像，还要用大圆规量他的头围。总而言之，托马斯身上所有的部位他们都要详细地测量一番。检查完毕就不许他喝酒抽烟，也不许帕麦娜与他……总之他什么事也不准干，托马斯是在十一月七日做的手术。当他苏醒过来的时候，他发现已经躺在自己的房间里了。他的头缠满了绷带，而且痛得很严害。直到手术后的第四天，他才觉得疼痛减轻了些。几个医生来给他换了绷带。帕麦娜一整天都坐在他的床边同他闲聊。 从动手术之日开始，托马斯就改名为格莱先生了，他天天都在焦急地盼着一封电报。一天这封电报终于来了，电文是维娜姨妈顺利到达。good luck!埃德加。帕麦娜读了电文，高兴得叫了一声。她握着托马斯的手说：“他们把尸体找到了，亲爱的！他们给你找到了合适的尸体！” “好了，现在不会出岔子了。”托马斯满意地说道。 然而他错了！十一月十三日，诊所里来了一位满面愁容的人，他请求与格莱先生单独谈一次话。当他同我们的朋友格莱先生单独在一起时，他自我介绍说他叫约翰·米萨拉斯，是联邦调查局的特工人员。格莱看他那神态不安的样子便知道出了岔子。“尸体出了问题，我们大家都感到很痛心，格莱先生。” “尸体出了什么事？” “不在那儿了。” “那在哪儿呢？” “在安卡拉。”托马斯愣住了。“别人把他埋了。” "My God!" “您得知道，那天一共有五具尸体，其中有两具尸体搞错了，搞错的那两具尸体当中恰恰就有我们的一具。结果我们拿到的是另一具尸体，生前是一个土耳其外交官，可惜不像您。真是气人。” "My God!" “怎么？您没有听明白我的话吗？” “我的老天！一句也没听明白。” “事情的经过是这样的。我们在德特罗伊特找到了一具无名尸体。这个人和您简直像一对孪生子！是患心肌梗塞死的。我们把尸体做了相应的修整，修整完毕给他特制了一副棺材，准备乘飞机运到欧洲去。我的上司想把事情做得稳妥一些。为了避免引起其他间谍的注意，他叫我们把尸体装到一架上面放有另外四个棺材的飞机上。遗憾的是在巴黎出了岔子。我们发生的密码电报被电报局译错了一个字，结果我们在巴黎的人就取错的棺材。” "My God!" “是啊，真是糟糕透了！后来我们打开棺材一看，我差点气晕过去了。里面躺着的是土耳其外交官。” “那……那具象我的尸体到哪儿去了呢？” “昨天在安卡拉入了葬，和那个土耳其外交官的家属埋在一起了。我确实感到非常抱歉，格莱先生。现在确实是无可奈何了。” what else can we do?那就等吧，托马斯和帕麦娜只有耐着性子等下去。好不容易挨到了十一月十九日，又盼到了一封发给格莱先生的电报，电文是弗里德叔叔安全抵家。good luck!埃德加。帕麦娜悄悄地说：“嘿！这下又找到一具合适的尸体。” “但愿这次再也不出娄子了。”托马斯满怀希望地说道。这一次果然顺利，当托马斯和帕麦娜不停地为这具尸首祝福的时候，尸体已经躺在芝加哥联邦调查局指派的一名医生的手术台上。死者的确酷似托马斯·列文。医生用了氧化氢、石蜡浆之类的化学药物把死者面容改造得愈来愈象托马斯·列文。联邦调查局的特工人员手里拿着托马斯的衣物，随时递给正在给尸体整容的医生。例如托马斯那只金怀表和四个不同名字的护照，现在都属于这位死者了。联邦调查局的一个特工人员蛮有兴致地观看着整容外科医生的手术过程。这个医生一边往死者的鼻子里喷石蜡浆一边问道：“这人是谁呀？” “路基·康帕涅诺。”这个特工人员回答道：“吸毒、诈骗、拐骗贩卖妇女。两个小时之前我们的几个战友同他交了火，他运气不好吃了子弹。”这个路基·康帕涅诺四十七年来干尽了坏事，他没有给任何人带来过快乐，没有任何人爱过他，仇人倒不少。他没有亲属，孑然一身。 十一月二十日午夜，有艘美国船迂回曲折地朝葡萄牙领海以外的里斯本方向开去。开达了预定海域，大船上放下了一艘小艇缓缓地向海岸划去，小艇上有三个活人和一个死人。一九五七年十一月二十一日早晨，那群在里斯本郊外卡斯凯斯渔村海滩上捡贝壳、海星的孩子们便发现了一具男尸……