ERNEST HEINRICH “PROFESSOR” MANN; fifty-three; resident of 529 East Fifty-first Street, New York City. Place of business: Fun City Electronic Supply & Repair Co., 1975 Avenue D, New York City. Five feet six inches tall; 147 pounds; almost completely bald, with gray fringe around scalp; gray eyebrows; small Van Dyke beard, also gray. Walked with slight limp, favoring left leg. Deep scar in calf of left leg (believed to be a knife wound; see Interpol file #96B-J43196). He was a technician, skilled in mechanical, electrical, and electronic engineering. Graduated from Stuttgarter Technische Hochschule, 1938, with highest honors. Assistant professor, mechanical and electrical engineering, Zurich Academie du Mecanique, 1939-46. Emigrated to the United States (with Swiss passport) in 1948. Arrested Stuttgart, 17 June, 1937, on public nuisance charge (exhibiting himself to an elderly woman). Case dismissed with warning. Arrested Paris, 24 October, 1938, for scandalous conduct (urinating on Tomb of Unknown Soldier). Deported, after case was dismissed. In Zurich, a record of three arrests for possession of a dangerous drug (opium), indecent exposure, and illegal possession of a hypodermic needle. Suspended sentences. Extremely intelligent. Speaks German, French, Italian, English, some Spanish. Not believed to be violent. Single. Record indicates intermittent drug addiction (opium, morphine, hashish). FBI file indicates no illegal activities during residence in the United States. Applied for U.S. citizenship 8 May, 1954. Rejected 16 November, 1954. (As of this date, this man’s brother was a high official in the finance ministry of West Germany, and his file contained an alert tag: IN CASE OF ARREST, PLEASE CONTACT U.S. STATE DEPARTMENT BEFORE CHARGE.)
The following is the first part of a dictated, sworn, signed, and witnessed statement by Ernest Heinrich Mann. It was obtained after prolonged questioning (the complete transcription numbers fifty-six typewritten pages) from 8 October, 1968, to 17 October, 1968. The interrogator was an assistant district attorney, County of New York. The entire document is coded NYDA-FHM-101A-108B. The following section is labeled SEGMENT 101A.
MANN: My name is Ernest Heinrich Mann. I live at five-two-nine East Fifty-first Street, New York, New York, U.S.A. I also have a business, which I own—the Fun City Electronic Supply and Repair Co., Inc., incorporated under the laws of New York State, at one-nine-seven-five Avenue D, New York City. Am I perhaps speaking too rapidly? Good.
On April thirty, 1968, I was contacted at my place of business by a man I know as John Anderson, also known as Duke Anderson. He stated at this time that he wished to employ me to inspect the basement of a house at five-three-five East Seventy-third Street, New York City. He said he wished me to ascertain the telephone, alarm, and security precautions of this house. At no time did he state the purpose of this.
A price was agreed upon, and it was planned that I would approach the house in the uniform of a New York City telephone repairman, arriving in an authentic truck of the telephone company. Anderson said he would supply truck and driver. I provided my own uniform and identification. May I have a glass of water, please? Thank you.
About a month later Anderson called me and said the arrangements for the telephone truck had been made. There would be two drivers. I objected, but he assured me it would be perfectly safe.
On June fourth, at nine forty-five in the morning, I met the truck at the corner of Seventy-ninth Street and Lexington Avenue. There were two men who introduced themselves to me merely as Ed and Billy. I had never seen them before. They were clad in uniforms of New York Telephone Company repairmen. We spoke very little. The actual driver, the man named Ed, seemed reasonably intelligent and alert. The other one, called Billy, was large and muscular but had a childish mentality. I believe he was mentally retarded.
We drove directly to the house on East Seventy-third Street, pulling up in front. As we had agreed, I alighted, walked into the lobby, and presented my credentials to the doorman. He inspected my identification card, glanced out to the curb where the truck was parked, and told me to pull into the alley that runs alongside the building. Do one of you gentlemen have a cigarette? I would appreciate it. Thank you very much.
[Lapse of four seconds.]
So … I was identified on the closed-circuit TV screen in the lobby, and the doorman pressed the button unlocking the service door and allowed me entrance into the basement. Pardon?
No, this was merely to be an inspection. There was no intent to steal or destroy. Anderson merely wanted a complete rundown of the basement plus Polaroid photos of anything interesting. You understand? If I thought there was anything illegal required, I never would have accepted this job.
So. I am now in the basement. I went first to the telephone box. Quite ordinary. I made notes of main phones and extensions. I took instant photos of the entrance of the main trunk line into the basement and where it should be cut to isolate the entire house. This was requested by Anderson, you understand. I also ascertained that there were two separate wiring systems which, by their arrangement, I judged to be alarm systems, one to the local precinct house, perhaps triggered by an ultrasonic or radio-wave alarm, and the other to a private security agency which would be, I guessed, activated by opened doors or windows. Quite unexpectedly, both systems bore small tags with the apartment numbers written on them, so I was able to note that the precinct alarm was attached to Apartment Five B, and the private agency alarm to Apartment Four B. I made notes of this, plus photos. As Anderson had requested.
At this moment a door opened into the basement and a man came in. I learned he was Ivan Block, the superintendent of the building. He asked me what I was doing, and I explained that the telephone company was intending to bring a new line down the street and I was examining the premises to see what new equipment would be required. This was the same explanation I had given to the doorman. Another glass of water, please? I thank you.
[Lapse of six seconds.]
Block appeared satisfied with my explanation. Listening to him speak, I realized he was Hungarian or perhaps a Czech. Since I speak neither of these languages, I spoke to him in German, to which he replied in very bad, heavily accented German. However, he was pleased to speak the language. I believe he was somewhat inebriated. He insisted I come into his apartment for a glass of wine. I followed him, happy at the opportunity of making a further examination.
The super’s small apartment was dirty and depressing. However, I took a glass of wine with him while looking around. The only thing of value I saw was an antique triptych on his dresser. I guessed it as being at least three hundred years old, beautifully carved. The value, I estimated, might be as much as two thousand dollars. I made no reference to it.
Block continued to drink wine, and I told him I had to call my office, and I left. I then explored the main basement. The only thing of interest I found was quite odd …
It appeared to be a kind of a box—or rather, a small room—built into one corner of the basement. It was obviously quite old, and I judged it had been built into the basement when the building was constructed. Two walls of the basement formed two sides of the boxlike room; the two walls projecting into the basement at a right angle were constructed of fitted wooden slabs. One wood wall had a flush door, closed by an extremely heavy, old-fashioned brass lever and hasp. The big hinges were also of brass. The door was secured with a large padlock.
Closer inspection revealed that the door was also protected by a rather primitive alarm system obviously added years after the boxlike room had been built. It was a simple contact alarm that might ring a bell or flash a light when the door was opened. I traced the wire and judged it went up into the lobby area where it might alert the doorman.
I took complete Polaroid photos of this strange boxlike affair, and made notes of how the alarm might easily be bridged. Almost as an afterthought, I put my hand to the side of this unusual room and found it quite cold to the touch. It reminded me of a large walk-in refrigerator one might find in a butcher’s shop in this country.
I took a final look around and decided I had everything that Anderson, my client, required. I then exited from the basement and got into the truck. The two men, Ed and Billy, had waited quite patiently. We pulled out of the driveway. The doorman was standing on the sidewalk, and I smiled and waved as we pulled away.
They dropped me on the corner of Seventy-ninth Street and Lexington Avenue, and then left. I have no knowledge of what they did after that. The entire operation consumed one hour and twenty-six minutes. John Anderson called me on June fifth. I suggested he come over to my shop on the next day. He did, and I delivered to him the photos I had taken, the diagrams, and a complete report of what I saw—which is exactly what I have reported to you gentlemen. I thank you very much for your courtesy.