A Secret Service: Being Strange Tales of a Nihilist

by William Le Queux

It is also well known in our Circle that in the beginning of the last decade Colonel Soudeikin, the then chief of spies and provocating agents in Petersburg, proposed to his principal confidential agent—afterwards his murderer—Degayeff, in order to strengthen his reputation in revolutionary circles, that he should murder an unimportant fellow-spy, P⸺, first exposing him to the revolutionists. “Of course,” remarked Soudeikin, “it is hard on him, but what can one do? You must gain their confidence in some way, and in any case P⸺ will never be good for anything.” Indeed, the man referred to was already suspected of being a spy, and all the revolutionists were on their guard against him.

At such a level of morality the prospect of a “paying job” is sufficient to inspire the agents of the Russian “State police” with a spirit of boundless enterprise. The advantage thus gained by the Russian Government is enormous; provocation is the surest way to give false impressions about the Russian patriots and to terrorise foreign public opinion to the detriment of the liberation movement.

Recently the foreign branch of the “higher police” has been strengthened and re-modelled. In London the section now works independently. Paris has been constituted the centre from which operations in other towns are superintended; then come university towns, such as Montpellier, Zurich, and Berne, and the towns specially frequented by Russians, as Nice and Mentone. From Paris “flying brigades” of spies and provocators are sent out to places where “special activity” is required. The staff of employees in the French capital has within the past year been “renewed,” and their numbers greatly augmented. As an instance, no fewer than twelve new agents were sent from Russia immediately after the assassination of General Seliverstroff in Paris.

More attention is bestowed upon London than elsewhere, because it has become known that many of the foremost of the so-called Terrorists reside in the English metropolis. The satellites of the “Security Section,” however, baffled by the watchfulness of our own spies, are unable to make much progress with their inquiries owing to the traps we lay for them. Indeed, finding their activity counteracted, they have now founded in London a kind of Russian institution, which by its artistic and literary attractions induces Russians living in the metropolis to visit it; the aim being to facilitate the obtaining of information and the choice of future victims for provocation. Members of the Party are, however, too wary to visit it.

At the time the events related in this chapter occurred, the Executive had resolved upon decisive action.

As a protest against the increasing tyranny of the late Tzar Alexander, it had been decided that a grand coup should be made at the Winter Palace at Petersburg, where two members of our Organisation were engaged as trusted servants in the Imperial household. News of the plot was conveyed secretly to the various Circles on the Continent, while we in London set about arranging the various details.

To Nicolas Tersinski, who lived in Heygate Street, Walworth, was the work of manufacturing a dynamite clock entrusted. He had been a locksmith in Warsaw and was skilled in mechanical contrivances. It was he who made the bombs which wrecked the Imperial train near Grodno, and the machines that had caused several other “outrages” were due to his ingenuity.

While these preparations were in progress, it was of course highly essential that our secret should be strictly guarded and that our ubiquitous enemies, the police spies, should entertain no suspicion of our intentions. Nevertheless, we were one day amazed and startled to discover that the “Security Section” had suddenly grown more active than usual, and that there were unmistakable signs that they had gained some knowledge of the conspiracy.

The Executive held a hurried meeting to consider the best means of averting their espionage. I was still living expensively as a young man about town, and as I rarely visited the house in Oakleigh Gardens, my connection with the revolutionists was unknown to the police. For this reason I was chosen, together with Grinevitch, to assist in the work of “shadowing” the spies in order that Pétroff and the committee might complete their plans and get the machine safely to Petersburg.