GEORGE HOODS
591
cruited me in Switzerland for the American intelligence services and how,
following his instructions , I made contact in Hungary with such imperialist
spies as O. Matter, economic editor of the
Neue Zurcher Zeitung,
listed as
an agent of the O.S.S., Jacques Clergier of
Agence France Presse,
an agent
of the Deuxieme Bureau, Peter Smolka, foreign affairs editor of the
Neues
Osterreich
and Michael Burn, Budapest correspondent of the
London Times,
both agents of the British Intelligence Service, who under the guise of for–
eign reporting, smuggled out my spy reportS on the political and economic
situations in Hungary and passed them on to the Americans.
I remained in the cellar for a few more days, this time however supplied
with blanket, cigarettes and books, until I was finally brought to the huge
and elegant office of Colonel Matyas Karolyi of the AVH . He pushed a type–
written document towards me .
"Here is the text of your indictment, the questions you will be asked
by the president of the People's Court, and your answers . Memorize them
word for word, so that there will be no slip-up during the trial. In three days
I will call you again and we will have a dress rehearsal .' ,
I told him he could depend on me, provided that both he and the Party
were aware that not a single word in the indictment was consistent with the
truth . Karolyi laughed . "The Party knows everything, the trial is just a
circus, a formality and soon you will return to your family. "
I was returned to Mark6 Street. Suddenly the food was excellent, even
dessert was not missing, cigarettes as plentiful as I wanted , books as soon as
I asked for them. I was visited by a physician who asked
if
I had any com–
plaints and Lieutenant Faludi showed his concern by inquiring as to whether
or not I had any wishes .
After two weeks of pampering, they walked into my cell one morning,
took my measurements and returned an hour later with fresh undetwear, a
white shirt and a dark suit. Dress quickly, was the instruction , they will call
for you in ten minutes .
It
was March 16, 1950. The "Swiss Group" once
again reassembled and smiled sadly at each other in the prison corridor.
In the waiting room of the trial hall, things were cozy . The AVH officer
offered us Espresso, cake and cigarettes. Faludi pulled me aside and prom–
ised to introduce me to my defense counsel. Don't tell him a word about
your case, I was cautioned ,
if
he asks you about any extenuating circum–
stances, mention your little daughter, a poor fatherless child always makes
a good impression . But I was curious and asked my "defender" if he had
read the indictment. "Not yet," he replied . " I have only just now been
given it."
We were together again, the "Swiss Group," at the end of our dreams
in Zurich and Geneva. One after the other we were called into the trial hall.
