I am not only willing but anxious to do so and am prepared to come out as soon as I have arranged my affairs here. Of course, I would undertake this tour of inspection only after very thorough consultation with you and Engineer B. Whilst there is no limit to which I am not prepared to go in order to help in putting this new process on the market, I would naturally hate to provide a Roman holiday for the competitors. I think that I am not exaggerating in presuming that a successful inspection of the factory by me and the presentation of a fully substantiated technical report would produce a considerable impression in the interested quarters and generally facilitate to realisation of the scheme.
I am looking forward to your more definite advices which ought to reach me about the 20th inst. And in the meantime I shall do all to make myself free for a quick departure.5
Arrangements were made to sail from New York on 26 August in order to arrive in Paris on 3 September. Reilly and Pepita were met at the Gare du Nord by Boyce, with whom they dined that evening. The following day Pepita left for a few days in Ostend to visit her mother whom she had not seen for over a year. While she was away Reilly met a number of underground contacts and pronounced that he was ‘convinced of the sincerity and potentiality’ of the Trust organisation.
On Pepita’s return they dined with Gen. Kutyepov, who was keen for Reilly to meet the Trust representatives, but went to great lengths to implore him not to cross the Russian border under any circumstances. Pepita quotes Kutyepov as advising Reilly ‘let them come to you – the arrangement has been made most definitely with the people from Moscow centre that they are to come to Helsingfors to see you there’.6 The following day they took a train to Cologne where they had agreed to separate. He was to head for Helsingfors via Berlin, as it was felt his arrival there would be less circumspect if he was alone. Pepita was to head for Hamburg, where she was to await his return. As the Berlin train arrived and Reilly stepped aboard, Pepita had a feeling of foreboding:
A whistle shrilled. I felt Sidney suddenly lift me into his arms. Then he set me down and stepped into the train. I saw his hand waving out of infinite blackness. A lump rose in my throat. I suddenly wanted to cry. Slowly the train gathered speed. I saw the hand waving through the tear mists rapidly receding into the distance. Then it was gone.7
Once in Helsingfors, Reilly sent Pepita a long letter dated Tuesday 22 September:
My Sweetheart,
I had a rotten trip. Sunday we had very bad weather and the little steamer did everything to make the passage very uncomfortable. I was not seasick but felt very headachey [sic] and congested. Yesterday about noon we stopped for a short while at Revel and I could gaze from the deck of the steamer upon the scene of my former exploits… We arrived here about 5 p.m. It was very fortunate that I had wired for a room from Paris. I got the one and only free. I got in touch with E’s assistant (a very intelligent youngster, keen as mustard and most anxious to serve me in every possible way).8
Reilly had by now met his initial contact Nikolai Bunakov (ST28), the former Tsarist naval officer who worked under Boyce and had been, in turn, introduced to the Shultzes (the ‘Californian’ couple). They struck him as:
…a most extraordinary couple. He is just a boy, probably a very fine and undoubtedly a very brave boy, but of the type which you characterise as ‘nincompoop’. She is the head of the concern, and her very long skirt cannot disguise the trousers which she is wearing – she is of the American school-marm type, which, strangely enough, is not uncommon in Russia, very plain and unattractive, but full of character and personality.9
Vyborg, close to the border with Russia, was the rendezvous point where it had been arranged that Reilly would meet the Trust representatives. It was here that he was introduced to two undercover OGPU agents: Alexander Yakushev, supposedly a senior Trust representative from Moscow; and George Syroezhkin. The task now was to entice him over the border and to begin the process of debriefing him.
Yakushev gave Reilly an impressive account of the Trust’s power and influence within the organs of government and sought his guidance on the attitude a Trust government should take on a range of domestic issues. Yakushev later recalled that:
The first impression of him was unpleasant. His bulging dark eyes expressed something biting and cruel; his lower lip drooped deeply and he was too slick – the neat black hair, the demonstratively elegant suit. Everything in his manner expressed something haughtily indifferent to his surroundings. He took a seat in an armchair, carefully adjusted the crease in his trousers, then showed off his new yellow shoes and silk stockings. He began the conversation with world-weary seriousness and a superior tone by announcing that he found it impossible at the moment to travel to us.10
Yakushev asked Reilly how many days he had, retorting that it was a great shame that he had travelled all the way from America, only to stop at the very thresehold which he dare not step across. This intended slight to Reilly’s courage had the desired effect. According to Yakushev’s report:
Reilly thought hard for a moment, then said, ‘You’ve persuaded me. It’s decided, I’m going with you.’ He immediately became alive.11
Although now resolved to cross the border, Reilly still had nagging doubts. This is clear from reading between the lines of a letter he wrote to Pepita shortly before he left Vyborg with the Trust representatives. He entrusted the letter to one of Boyce’s agents, Nikolai Bunakov, under strict instructions to send it to Pepita only in the event that he did not return as planned on 28 September. Bunakov in turn gave the letter to another SIS agent, Harry Carr, who locked it in his safe:
My most beloved, my sweetheart,
It is absolutely necessary that I should go for three days to St Petersburg and Moscow. I am now leaving tonight and will be back here on Tuesday morning. I want you to know that I would not have undertaken this trip unless it was absolutely essential, and if I was not convinced that there is practically no risk attached to it. I am writing this letter only for the most improbable case of a mishap befalling me. Should this happen, then you must not take any steps; they will help little but may finally lead to giving the alarm to the Bolshies and to disclosing my identity. If by any chance I should be arrested in Russia, it could be only on some minor, insignificant charge and my new friends are powerful enough to obtain my prompt liberation. I cannot imagine any circumstance under which the Bolshies could tumble to my identity provided nothing is done from your side. Therefore, if I should have some trouble, it would only mean a very short delay in my return to Europe – I should say a fortnight at the most. Knowing you I am certain you will rise to the occasion, keep your head, and do all that is necessary to keep the fort as regards my business affairs.
Naturally none of these people must get an inkling where I am and what has happened to me, and remember that every noise, etc, may give me away to the Bolshies.
My dearest darling, I am doing what I must do and I am doing it with the absolute inner assurance that, if you were with me, you would approve. You are in my thoughts always and your love will protect me. God bless you ever and ever. I love you beyond all words.
In order to undertake the journey, Reilly was given a Soviet passport in the name of Nikolas Nikolaivich Sternberg. The border crossing was to be made just south of Vyborg by wading across the Sister River, and passing through a ‘blind spot’ on the Russian side of the river that would avoid the border patrols. Having changed out of his American outfit into a less conspicuous suit, Reilly set off with Yakushev, who later recalled in his report: