State Secrets

by Quintin Jardine

  Merlin Brady had been a peripheral figure in the previous Labour administration and had held only minor office in his party’s last government before being returned to the back benches in Opposition.

  After the decimation of the previous general election, there had been no stomach within the parliamentary party for a leadership battle, but the power brokers in the trade union movement, which had quietly rebuilt its influence after a quarter century in the background, had insisted on it. After a split between the two leading contenders had weakened them both, Brady had stepped forward, or rather had been pushed, as a unity candidate, and had won the nationwide ballot by a wide margin.

  Most of those who voted for him had known little or nothing about him, but the contest had been decided by the two biggest trade unions, who had given him their backing and urged their members to support him. When he took office, and came into the spotlight for the first time in a twenty-year career, the nation had seen a quiet, diffident, gentle guy from Manchester, whose main strength seemed to be that anyone who was rude to him would be seen as school bully, and so nobody ever was.

  He had been presented as a throwback to the left-wing, anti-nuclear firebrands of the past, an inspirational leader who would shake up his party and make it electable again. It had taken six weeks at most, and a bland speech to the Labour conference, for it to become apparent that he was nothing of the sort.

  He was left of centre, and no fan of the deterrent, but that was as far as he resembled the picture his backers had painted. His polite, non-abusive style at Prime Minister’s Questions in the Commons had allowed Emily Repton to brush him aside on a weekly basis. His shadow Cabinet was drawn entirely from his own left-wing; to my eyes, most of them mediocrities. Behind them, in the second tier, Aileen was one of a dozen ambitious and more talented people. She was the best of them, though, and as she left me alone with Brady, I was still unconvinced by her explanation of why she had put me in there.

  She might have been less keen if she had known my real agenda.

  ‘Mr Skinner,’ he began once she had left us on our own, ‘good of you to come down. Please, take a seat.’

  He directed me towards one of two chairs on the visitor side of his desk. His office was much smaller than Repton’s but it was much tidier. His papers were arranged in neat piles, each with a pen beside it; the newspapers on his coffee table sat one on top of the other, neatly placed so that each one’s masthead showed . . . I was surprised to see a copy of the Saltire displayed beneath the Guardian.

  The man himself was as impeccable as his surroundings. I knew that Brady had been a single man for many years and I’d been expecting him to look the part. He didn’t. There wasn’t a hair or a speck of dust on his jacket, and his red tie was absolutely centred. His salt and pepper hair was perfectly parted and there was no suggestion of stubble on his chin. I was showing the wear of a busy day, and felt scruffy opposite him.

  ‘So,’ he said with a diffident smile, ‘have we won you over? Ms de Marco said from the outset that it would be tough, but that if we could persuade you to join us you would transform our performance in the Lords. How did you feel your meeting with Lady Mercer went?’

  I bounced his question back at him. ‘How did she feel? I’ve no doubt she’ll have reported back by now.’

  ‘She has,’ he acknowledged. ‘She said that she wasn’t sure what you’d decide; she thought that if anything you might be more amenable to a cross-bencher situation.’

  ‘She got that wrong,’ I replied. ‘That would be disingenuous at best, dishonest at worst. If I went in there, my colours would be nailed to the mast. Also I have to say that the concept of me winning over wobbly Tories doesn’t appeal. I don’t do gentle persuasion. It isn’t in my skill set.’

  ‘If you did join us,’ he continued, ‘what would you want? If I offered you the chance to write your own ticket, what would you ask for?’

  As I had never considered seriously accepting the Lords proposition, that was a question that I hadn’t put to myself, but I knew the answer. ‘I’d want to be your leader in the Lords, because you don’t have one at the moment. Gloria Mercer is a Premier League economist, I’m sure, but she couldn’t lead a Girl Guide troop. I’d probably want to be shadow Home Secretary as well, because the guy you have there, Mark Malone, is the son of a man who was jailed for violence on the Orgreave picket line during the miners’ strike, and he’s never forgiven the police for it.’

  Brady’s grey eyes widened. ‘Are you sure about that?’ he asked, softly. ‘It’s news to me.’

  ‘I’m sure all right. Malone was a Labour MP in Midlothian when I was deputy chief in Edinburgh, before he went south; Special Branch had a file on him and I’ve seen it. His father’s name was Alfredson. Malone started using his mother’s name when he went to university.’

  He scratched his chin. ‘That could be a problem.’

  ‘No, Mr Brady, it is a problem, if your party wants to have any sort of a relationship with the police in England and Wales. Have you read any of the man’s speeches? Did you see his Guardian article, where he accused the police in a couple of cities of institutional fascism?’

  ‘I was told that his special adviser wrote that piece, and that somehow it slipped through the screening process.’ He sighed. ‘What would you do about the situation, if you were in my shoes?’ he asked.

  ‘That would depend on him,’ I replied. ‘I’d confront him with the truth about his background, and suggest that he adjusts his attitude, sharpish. If he agreed, I’d wait till the next reshuffle to move him. If he didn’t, I’d leak the story to the tabloid of my choice, probably the Sun. I’d give it a day then accept his resignation with profound regret. Then I’d replace him with a proper politician who’s a match for Roland Kramer, or whoever succeeds him, if he succeeds Repton.’

  He smiled, thinly. ‘Can you help me with that choice too?’

  ‘What do you think? You have a woman in your team whose political CV includes a spell as First Minister of Scotland and you don’t have her in the shadow Cabinet? You’re off your fucking head, man.’

  The smile became a soft chuckle. ‘You don’t pull your punches, Mr Skinner, do you?’

  ‘No,’ I agreed, ‘and that’s why I’d be a terrible appointee to the Lords or any other political job. It’s one reason why I’m probably going to decline your offer, the other being that I’m not sure I want to see your party in government in its present form.’

  As soon as the words were put there I wished I’d bitten my tongue, hard. I hadn’t got to my main reason for the meeting, and I’d gone and given him a chance to terminate it.

  But he didn’t. Instead he continued to smile, his eyes seemed to shine, and I realised how decent a man he was.

  ‘It’s nice to meet an honest man who speaks his mind,’ he said. ‘You wouldn’t last a week in this place. You’d be ostracised, because everyone would be afraid of you.’

  Suddenly, to my surprise, I felt an awkwardness that I realised was shame.

  ‘In the spirit of honesty,’ I continued, ‘there’s something I have to tell you.’

  ‘Would it have something to do with Emily Repton?’ he asked, quietly.

  Wow! I thought. Have I underestimated this man!

  I nodded. ‘My presence here today attracted attention,’ I told him. ‘I have a longstanding friendship with Amanda Dennis, the Director General of the Security Service, and our paths have crossed professionally too. There are aspects of the Prime Minister’s indisposition,’ I continued, thinking, for a change, about every word I was saying, ‘that have caused concern. Its onset was sudden and needs to be explained. I’ve been asked by the Home Secretary and by Mrs Dennis to find out what happened, if I can.’

  ‘Is Emily dead?’ he asked, bluntly.

  ‘No.’

  ‘You mean not yet?’

&nbs
p; ‘None of us are dead yet, but I’ll concede she’s closer than most.’

  ‘Have you seen her?’

  ‘Yes. Now my job is to find out who else did, around the time that she was overcome.’

  Merlin Brady frowned. ‘Oh dear,’ he murmured. ‘She doesn’t have a disease, does she?’

  ‘No.’ I’d shared the truth with Grover Bryant, because I knew he’d protect his sister. I took an even bigger leap of faith with Brady, because I felt I could trust the man. ‘Between the two of us, she was attacked in her office and left for dead.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he murmured. ‘I know what you just did, and I’ll respect it. Today of all days,’ he added.

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘The day of the mysterious defence statement that she was due to make this afternoon, the one that’s defied the norm in this place, in that it hasn’t been leaked and spun in advance. Is it your thinking that the attack is related to that announcement?’

  ‘I’m not ready to commit myself, not yet. Do you know what she was going to say, Mr Brady?’

  ‘No, I don’t. I had hoped for advance notice of the content, but it didn’t happen.’

  ‘Did you ask her this morning and did she refuse to tell you? And now I’m going to go all the way: did you lash out at her in frustration?’

  The gentle grey eyes settled on my cold blue ones. ‘Do you see me doing that?’ He smiled. ‘Even if I had the opportunity. It would be the crime of the century.’

  ‘No I don’t,’ I replied, ‘but I have to ask. I know that you were admitted to the vicinity of her office by the cops on the door, after you told them you had an appointment with the Prime Minister.’

  ‘Yes, that’s true,’ he agreed, with a nod, ‘but that meeting never took place. I didn’t see Emily.’

  ‘Why not? There’s no indication that she left her office at any time. And you were there for well over twenty minutes. So?’

  Then I thought about that timeframe, and about what I’d seen on the CCTV footage; a cartoon light bulb clicked on above my head.

  ‘No,’ Brady said. ‘I didn’t see her. Mr Skinner, can I be as frank with you as you were with me?’

  ‘If you feel you can’t,’ I advised him, ‘it’s best that you say nothing and I leave now.’

  ‘If I am, can I rely on your discretion? That’s what I’m asking.’

  ‘If what you tell me relates in any way to the attack on Ms Repton, no you can’t. Otherwise, of course.’

  ‘I’ll take that chance,’ he decided. ‘I misled those policemen. I did have a meeting but it wasn’t with her. Mr Skinner, for the last three years, I’ve been in a relationship with a lady, a married woman. When it began, I was a background figure in the Labour Party with no prospect of advancement, and no such ambition either. If we’d been outed then it would have been damaging to her marriage, but no more than that. If it came out now, when I am where I am, it would blow the roof off, off everything.’

  Someone turned up the dimmer switch on that light bulb.

  ‘Siuriña Kramer,’ I exclaimed. ‘You’re having an affair with Siuriña Kramer.’

  ‘How did you know?’ he asked.

  ‘She’s on CCTV, heading for the office corridor. I interviewed her earlier and she told me that was where she was going, to look for something in her husband’s office. She was there for around the same length of time as you. Look,’ I said, ‘maybe you shouldn’t tell me any more. I have to report to Kramer, and I have to assume he has access to the same footage I’ve seen.’

  Another light clicked on. ‘You knew what I’m doing before I came in here, didn’t you?’ I asked.

  He gave me the briefest of nods. ‘Siuriña called me after you saw her, as soon as you’d left. She was afraid you were on to us. When Aileen asked me to meet you, I thought I might find out.’

  ‘What the hell? Your meeting this morning, what was that about? Please don’t tell me you fancied giving her one across Roland’s desk. I don’t like the guy, but that would be rubbing his nose in it.’

  ‘No, no,’ he retorted, dismissively. ‘We have a little more style than that.’

  ‘Has it ever occurred to you,’ I ventured, cautiously, ‘that she might be using you?’

  ‘Has it occurred to you,’ he countered, ‘that I might be using her? The truth is that we’re using each other to an extent, and we know it. Siuriña is driven by her ambition for her husband. I’m driven by my ambition to unseat the Tories. She doesn’t believe that I can ever do that; she sees me as no more of a political threat to her than I was when the affair, as you called it, began. However, she does see me as useful, if she can help me undermine Emily Repton. I see her as useful for the same reason.’

  ‘Do you actually care for each other or is your thing pure bloody politics?’

  ‘Oh we do; we care very much. Siuriña is a kind, compassionate woman confined by circumstances in a loveless marriage. If Roland wasn’t what he is, I believe she’d leave him for me.’

  I pitied him for his naive, misplaced confidence; the woman I’d encountered that afternoon hadn’t given me a glimpse of the one he was describing.

  ‘Where do you meet?’ I asked him. ‘Other than in the Home Secretary’s Commons office,’ I added.

  ‘Is it relevant to your investigation?’

  ‘No, I’m just curious,’ I admitted. ‘Given that each of you is a public figure, how have you kept it secret for so long? When Aileen and I got together the whole bloody world knew in a week.’

  He smiled, turning slightly in his chair. ‘We met at an event in the Tate Modern, the opening of an exhibition by a Welsh artist. Siuriña didn’t have a Conservative Party role then, and I was a junior shadow minister on Overseas Development . . . my predecessor thought that by tucking me away out of sight he’d keep me silent on the many issues where we disagreed.

  ‘I hadn’t a clue who she was, but she recognised me as we were mingling. We struck up a conversation and . . . it’s been going on ever since. It started innocently enough, with a few dinner dates, and it evolved from there.

  ‘Where do we meet, you asked? I have a small flat in Putney. Siuriña came there for the first couple of years, and no one was any the wiser. However, since I’ve been leader and she’s been party chair, well, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate, it’s been much more difficult. This morning was the first time we’ve been alone together in six weeks. The last time, I was driving to my constituency in Manchester, and she was driving to see her mother in Chester.’

  ‘How do you communicate?’

  ‘We have second phones. Everyone does in our world.’ He paused and looked at me. ‘I don’t know why I’m telling you all this,’ he murmured.

  ‘Because you need to tell someone,’ I suggested. ‘The bigger the secret, the more stress it generates. I’ve uncovered it, and now you’re spilling your guts as if I was your parish priest. Trust me, it’s something I’ve seen often in my career. Also, you have a naive belief that I’m not going to share it with another living soul.’

  ‘Is that misplaced?’ he asked, but with no sign of anxiety.

  ‘No, it isn’t. I don’t condone what you and Siuriña are doing, but my disapproval comes from the guilt of having been in a couple of furtive relationships myself.’ I took out my MI5 badge and displayed it. ‘As long as you don’t threaten national security, it’s none of my business. I don’t see that you are, as long as you can explain to me the purpose of your meeting this morning. That does seem reckless, and for the purpose of my investigation I do need an answer.’

  Brady nodded. ‘It won’t sound very honourable, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘I asked Siuriña if she could find out the content of the defence statement.’

  ‘So you could leak it and sabotage Repton’s big moment?’

  ‘Definitely not; that woul
d have triggered a major inquiry. It would have compromised Siuriña. No, I’d have used it to prepare my reaction in the chamber once she had made the announcement. She told me it was very tightly guarded and that she couldn’t hope for a sight of it until today. Her plan was to copy what she could and pass it to me. Meeting in Roland’s Commons office was her idea; she said it was the only place where we could guarantee privacy.’

  ‘You told me earlier that you didn’t know what was in the statement,’ I pointed out.

  ‘I don’t. When I arrived, she was furious. She said that Roland had refused point-blank to discuss it with her. They had a massive argument, but he wouldn’t budge. He claimed that Repton had ordered absolute secrecy, and that by staying silent he was actually protecting her.’ Brady smiled again. ‘He didn’t know how true that was.’

  ‘I take it she wasn’t best pleased with the Prime Minister.’

  ‘That would be putting it mildly. She spent most of the time we were together railing against her. “Paranoid” and “megalomaniac” were probably the gentlest words she used. Others, I will not repeat. She accused her of distrusting everyone around her; if so,’ he chuckled, ‘that was wise on Emily’s part. I wonder what went wrong.’

  I didn’t return his smile. ‘What you’re telling me is that Siuriña was sounding off about the Prime Minister less that twenty minutes before she was found unconscious in her room. Which of you left first?’

  ‘I did,’ Brady replied.

  ‘Nobody saw you?’

  ‘No, but there was one close call as I left. I opened the door slightly to check that the corridor was empty. It wasn’t, there was someone standing there, a woman. I stayed where I was.’

  ‘Did you recognise her?’

  ‘No. I only had a back view, a fleeting one at that, for I closed the door very quickly. I waited for a minute, then took another look out; the coast was clear.’

  ‘That would be around ten to eleven?’