Osip tried to ascertain quickly what kind of man he was dealing with. He’d hoped for someone businesslike. This agent seemed emotional and angry.

—You queer, Mr Feinstein? In my experience most Communists are either queer, Negro or Jew. I know you’re a Jew. I can see you’re no Negro. I’m not all that expert at guessing queers, though. Sure, there might be other kinds of Communists, but the ones who aren’t ashamed to stand up and say “I’m proud to be a Communist” are always queer, Negro or Jew.

Yates sucked on his cigarette and exhaled, jabbing it at Osip’s chest.

—I’ve been following your career with interest, Mr Feinstein. We’ve known for some time that this tourist agency is a cover. Did you think we were stupid? Those spies you sent us? We let them in. Why? Because we were confident as soon as they arrive in this country and start living in a nice house, and driving a nice car and eating nice food, they’re going to forget about that god-awful Communist hole they left behind. They’re going to be loyal to us because our lives are better than yours. And you know what? We were right. You’ve arranged for what, maybe three hundred people and their families to come over?

The exact number was three hundred and twenty-five. Yates sneered:

—How many have given you anything confidential? How many have given you even a scrap of information or a single blueprint?

Despite his doubts about Yates, there was no way back. Osip had to proceed with his plan.

—Agent Yates, I left the Soviet Union fearing for my life. I have no love for that regime. I began working as a spy for the Soviet Union only because I couldn’t get any other work in New York. I was hungry. It was during the Great Depression. The CPUSA had money. I had none. That is the truth. After I joined them, there was no going back. My card was marked as a Communist. I had to behave as one. The men and women whose visas I arranged were never likely spies. They were people in danger, scientists and engineers. They feared for their lives and the lives of their children. I never expected them to become spies. I never expected them to provide a scrap of information, as you say. I used Soviet resources to get them to safety under the guise of infiltrating American universities or factories or even the military. That is the truth. The measure of my success was not how many spies I created, but how many lives I saved.

Yates stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

—Mr Feinstein, that’s an interesting story. Makes you sound like an American hero, is that what you’re saying? I should be patting you on the back?