So there is a kind of unspoken code of public conduct, of honor when you are in a public restroom.

I'm thinking of like the restroom in an airport, like busy.

And you just try and pretend that you cannot hear the noises that are coming out

of the stalls next to you. And thankfully, people pretend they don't hear the noises coming out of

your stall. This is just the polite fiction we all opt into. However, if I had ever found myself in the small English village of Alsford, about an hour

and a half drive from London, I'd want to keep my ears actually pretty highly attuned.

I wouldn't, I still would keep my nose close, but my ears would be listening. And that's because had you been there to use the facilities in the 1950s,

you might have heard a very odd sound, a sound that was potentially even incriminating.

The sound of a man shuffling in, going into a stall, lifting the lid off the toilet

tank, and then dropping something in.

Maybe taking something out.

That's because this unassuming public toilet in Alsford, England, was used for quite some time as a dead drop for Soviet spies.

And not only that, this very humble location played a key role in flushing out an infamous Cold War espionage ring.

I'm Dylan Thurus, and this is Atlas Obscira, a celebration of the world's strange, incredible, and wondrous places.

Today, we are going to Alsford to hear about one of Britain's most notorious espionage cases,

the Portland spy writ.

It's Tinker-Taylor Toilet Spy.

After this.

Thank you. In the early 1950s, Peggy Houghton was getting a little suspicious of her husband Harry.

Harry and Peggy lived by the sea because Harry worked for the naval base on the aisle of Portland.

This was a very important naval base in England because it was where they were developing

all sorts of undersea weapons and capabilities, things like nuclear submarines. Harry just had

...