In the great city of Moscow lies an ancient monastery-fortress, whose origins go back through time to the fourteenth century.
And in the tiny English village of Alresford lies a small set of public toilets.
And the two are inextricably linked.
Linked by a story of subterfuge, intelligence and counterintelligence, the two buildings each hold clues to the activities of a spy ring which, when it was unearthed, hit the headlines as one of the great tales of cold war intrigue.
Undersea warfare – the submarine and its capabilities – was a major part of the posturing which went on during the Cold War. Which made the Admiralty Underwater Weapons Establishment, based at Portland on the English Dorset Coast, a desirable target indeed.
It was a mole who squeaked in 1959 to the CIA. The Russians were getting information from the base to which they should not be privy. And immediately surveillance began to root out the source of the sensitive information which was seeping out of the base.
They did not have to look far. Former sailor, and clerk at the base, Harry Houghton, lived it large. He owned his house. He drank like a fish and treated everyone to rounds at the pub, flashing his cash for all to see. And he had just, at the time of the beginning of the investigation, bought his fourth car.
Clerk’s incomes do not afford such a lifestyle.
And he had a mistress: Ethel Gee. She also worked at the establishment and had access to sensitive records.
As MI5 watched, the story unfolded before their eyes. They used to trip up to London to meet one Gordon Lonsdale, who purported to be a Canadian jukebox and bubble gum machine salesman. And they would exchange packages.
Not always, though. Into the frame came a small set public toilets in a sleepy Hampshire village, amongst the watercress beds which used to supply Covent Garden. Harry would leave packages there on occasion.
Lonsdale visited others in his daily life: especially an antiquarian bookseller called Peter Kroger and his charming wife, Helen.
On January 7, 1961, MI5 moved in. They asked Special Branch to arrest the sailor-clerk, the secretary and the bubble gum machine salesman. The secretary’s bag was stuffed with photographs and classified material.
And when they visited the bookseller’s wife, she too went straight for her handbag. But MI5 got there first. It was crammed with microdots– those tiny photographs they used to take of classified documents. Bookshops are such a convenient repository for such material.
Houghton and Gee were sentenced to 15 years in prison; and when they came out, they married.
The Krogers were sentenced to 20 years in prison, and were exchanged for a British spy in 1969.
And the bubble gum machine salesman?
His real name was found to be Konon Trofimovich Molody. In 1964, in Berlin, he was exchanged for a British spy. But his return to Mother Russia was not an entirely happy one.
He wrote an autobiography which was a clumsy tissue of deception, Claiming he was born in Canada. He was still cloaking himself in the identity of the dead man whose passport he had assumed all those years before. He was given a fairly minor post, and drank heavily.
The Russian doctors began injecting him with ‘blood pressure medication’ and he began to feel grim. The doctors told him it would feel worse before he felt better.
He died at 48 in mysterious circumstances on a mushroom-picking exhibition.
And they buried him next to another failed spymaster, Rudolf Abel, in the Donskoy Monastery, far from the public toilets which he used to serve his purposes in his glory days.