WASHINGTON, July 19: A silver lipstick gun called the “Kiss of Death”, a coat with a buttonhole camera, shoes with transmitters in their heels, ring pistols and poison syringes: They read like a prop list for a James Bond film.

But these are the real thing, and they go on display this week, when, with the CIA’s blessing, Washington’s new museum of spying opens its doors to the public.

Dubbed a simple tourist attraction by some, Peter Earnest, a former CIA employee of 36 years service and the director of the world’s first museum of espionage, prefers to see his creation as “pedagogic”, attempting to demystify the development of the spying profession by revealing some of the tricks of its shadowy trade.

Some of the most colourful and unlikely exhibits were developed in 20th century Europe: a carrier pigeon for example, called “cher ami” or “dear friend”, which was deployed by France to fly missions with a camera strapped to its underbelly in the period between the two World Wars.

But it is the Cold War period which offers up some of the most ingenious innovations. Visitors can admire a Bulgarian-designed umbrella which fires poison-tipped darts, a Czech miniature camera which allowed the former East German secret police, or Stasi, to photograph the antics of their enemies through a hotel wall, and of course the “Kiss of Death,” developed by Russian spymasters.

Also on display is the poison syringe which, much to the displeasure of the Pentagon, U2 bomber pilot Gary Power failed to use to commit suicide when he was shot down over the former Soviet Union in 1960.

The museum, which cost 40 million dollars to complete, also has interactive displays. Children can play Tunnel Rats — the name given to agents who hid themselves in an underground airduct constructed in 1954 by Britain and the United States to snoop on the Soviets in East Berlin.

The Moscow office of Feliks Dzherzhinsky, the founder of Cheka which later became the KGB, and a wooden barn used by the French resistance to communicate with London under the noses of the Gestapo during World War II, have also been faithfully reconstructed.

A video exhibit shows how budding agents were trained to disappear into the shadows and looks at what motivated such people to risk their lives in high-risk undercover activities. Some joined up voluntarily, motivated by a sense of adventure, the seduction of danger, greed, raging egos and often a sense of patriotism. Other were blackmailed into service, the video explains.

At a press preview of the film and other museum facilities, former chief of disguise at the CIA, Antonio Mendez, said that the ancient art of camouflage and disguise would continue, alongside technological innovation, to be the mainstay of his former trade.

After a period of reliance on high-tech electronics for surveillance, priority is again being given to human intelligence and disguise in the street to infiltrate groups such as Al Qaeda, he said.

Even the board of directors of the new museum has a “spooky” feel to it. On it sit two former CIA directors — William Webster and Admiral Stansfield Turner — and former KGB general, Oleg Kalugin, who currently works in Washington and was recently found guilty of treason by Russia.

So why do these former spymasters now want to reveal the old secrets of their trade?

So many people laboured for so long in the shadows and never received recognition unless their mission failed. At least their story can now be told, explained Earnest.

Amid all the genuine exhibits, such as lock-picking devices, secret tool sets, radio transmitters and encoding equipment, including a German Enigma device from World War II, is one concession to the world of fiction that no spy museum could do without: A replica of James Bond’s Aston Martin sports car — registration JB 007.—AFP