And Is There Honey Still For Tea?

by Peter Murphy

  ‘This is not about money,’ Digby interrupted. ‘It is about repairing the damage to my reputation.’

  ‘Yes, James,’ Harper said, sounding a little impatient, ‘but we have been through this before. Bringing proceedings for libel in the High Court is an expensive business. It is not just a question of damages. There are the costs to consider.’

  ‘The Ivy League Political Remembrancer is an independent journal,’ Ben continued. ‘As far as I can see, it is Hollander’s own creation and he is in charge of it. He is described on the inside cover as the Managing Editor and Editor-in-Chief. There are one or two assistant editors, but there is no indication that they have any voice in how it is run. And it does not seem to be connected directly to Yale University.’

  ‘So it may be something of a pyrrhic victory,’ Wesley observed. ‘We may win a judgment and an award of damages, but if Hollander has no assets to speak of, we may recover very little and be stuck with our own costs – not to mention that we might well incur further costs in trying to enforce the judgment in America.’

  Wesley looked at Digby, who raised his shoulders and spread his hands out wide in a gesture of resignation.

  ‘I am aware of the risks,’ he said. ‘But what choice do I have? If I don’t sue Hollander for libel immediately, people will assume that what he says is true. They are bound to. I will have no future at the Bar, or in Society. I will be an outcast. Both I and my family will be ruined. The Queen may even take away the Baronetcy, for God’s sake.’

  ‘On the other hand,’ Harper said, ‘if you do sue him, you will be at the mercy of a jury, and you will have your whole life dissected in public. Whether you sue or not, they may still try to prosecute you in the criminal courts. And as Bernard says, even if we win, we may not even be able to cover our costs, let alone collect the damages.’

  ‘I am not short of cash, Herbert,’ Digby said. ‘I will pay your costs, if I have to. Any damages I am awarded will go to charity in any event. This is about clearing my name.’

  There was a silence for some time.

  ‘Barratt, I would welcome your input on the possibility of criminal prosecution,’ Wesley said. ‘I am particularly concerned about whether it is likely even if James does not sue for libel.’

  Barratt had allowed himself to sprawl slightly in the comfort of the sofa. He now quickly sat up straight.

  ‘The Attorney-General moves in mysterious ways,’ he replied. ‘We have had cases recently in which you would think a prosecution is quite inevitable, but nothing is done. On the other hand, there are cases where action is taken against someone and you ask yourself why on earth they are bothering. In this particular case, I think they will prosecute if they think they have the evidence.’

  ‘Because …?’ Wesley asked.

  ‘They need to reassure the public that they are doing something,’ Davis replied. ‘Before Burgess and Maclean there had been no real evidence to suggest the need for prosecutions for espionage since the War. Burgess and Maclean got away. They would have gone after Philby if they thought they had the evidence, but clearly, they didn’t, and they eventually lost him. But they went after Lonsdale, they went after Blake, and they went after Vassall, and they are still not sure they have cleaned the stables. They even went after the wretched Stephen Ward, poor fellow. Many people don’t view the Profumo scandal as an espionage case, but I think that is naïve. The press is still talking about a fourth man. People still don’t think the Security Services are secure. The Government is still under pressure. Unfortunately, James has a high profile. They will probably feel they cannot ignore him. But the good news is that they can’t prosecute him without evidence.’

  Wesley nodded. ‘And that’s the key to it,’ he said.

  ‘Either way,’ Digby insisted, ‘I have no choice.’

  ‘There are always choices,’ Wesley replied.

  ‘For God’s sake, Bernard. I have already told the newspapers I intend to sue.’

  ‘That does not tie your hands. You can always find a reason.’

  ‘Not in this case. The man is accusing me of treason, of betraying my country.’

  ‘Yes,’ Wesley agreed. ‘But on what basis? On the basis of a conversation he claims he had with some Russian chess player who has rather conveniently died, and who in any case did not provide Hollander with one single fact to corroborate what he allegedly told him. What else does he have? The fact that you went up to Trinity at about the same time as Burgess, about the same time as Philby? So did a couple of hundred other men. The fact that you may have held some left-wing views during your time as a student? My God, James, if everyone who held left-wing views at University were to be suspected of treason, we would have to spend the next hundred years prosecuting them all. Hollander himself says that it was fashionable to be left-wing at the time, because of the Spanish war and so on. I am having some difficulty in seeing why anyone would take this article seriously.’

  ‘People are taking it seriously,’ Digby insisted.

  ‘But if that’s all he has, any jury would laugh him out of court – after ordering him to pay you an enormous sum in damages.’

  He turned towards Ben.

  ‘Would a judge even leave the question to a jury in a criminal case?’

  Ben shook his head firmly. ‘Not a chance,’ he replied firmly.

  Wesley nodded. ‘What’s your feeling, Herbert?’

  ‘I understand how James sees it,’ Harper replied. ‘But there are always choices. Suing for libel is a natural instinctive reaction in this kind of situation, but with libel, you always have to question whether it is the right thing to do. You have to think of the cost, for one thing, as I have said. And libel is always a double-edged sword. I must admit, I am not sure what to do in this case, but I think it must be considered very carefully. We are in no danger from the statute of limitations. We need to take our time and think about it.’

  Digby brought a hand down on Wesley’s desk.

  ‘That’s all very well, Herbert, but this article is out there, making the rounds here at home, as well as in America. With every day that goes by, if I do nothing, my reputation suffers more and more damage.’

  ‘Yes,’ Wesley said. ‘I do understand your concern.’

  ‘Do you?’ Digby stood and reached down for his briefcase, which he had placed on the floor, leaning against the leg of his chair. He put a hand inside and took out a collection of newspapers. ‘Have you seen this? The Sunday Times, “Leading QC may have spied for Soviets”. The Daily Mail, “Has this Baronet betrayed his Country?”. The Daily Express, “Is this the face of the Fourth Man?”. Do you want more – do you remember what The Daily Mirror called me?’

  Wesley stood and leaned against his desk.

  ‘I have read every word of those articles, James, all of them. And I do understand how you feel. But allow me to tell you what is troubling me. Herbert is right about libel. It is a double-edged sword. If you win you are vindicated. On the other hand, if you lose, your reputation is damaged beyond repair, and if evidence has emerged a criminal prosecution may follow. As Barratt says, they can’t prosecute without evidence, and on the basis of the materials I have been shown, I do not see any evidence.’

  He paused for some seconds.

  ‘And that is what concerns me.’

  ‘I don’t follow, Bernard,’ Harper said.

  ‘I am wondering why Hollander has taken the step of publishing such a serious libel without any evidence to back it up,’ Wesley replied. ‘He must have known that he was exposing himself to a potentially ruinous lawsuit; one to which Ben and I both fail to see he has any defence – unless he were able to show that what he has said is true. And if he compounds the libel by trying to justify it, the damages would generally be even greater. Not only that, he is now parading around London, virtually daring us to sue him. It doesn’t make sense to me. What does he have to gain?�
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  ‘Taking a charitable view,’ Harper said, ‘it is possible that he sees himself, however misguidedly, as acting in the public interest.’

  Wesley nodded. ‘Possibly. James, can you shed any light on this? What do you know about Hollander? Have you met him?’

  ‘I have met him several times, at this or that chess tournament,’ Digby replied. ‘I have spoken to him. I have never done anything to offend him, as far as I am aware. I can’t claim to know him well, but my sense of Hollander is that he is a frustrated man. He is an average chess player, who would like to be a grandmaster but knows enough to realise that he never will. So he hangs around the fringes. He speaks some Russian – because of a family connection, I believe – so he can make himself useful to American players and teams travelling abroad for tournaments, and to the American delegations to FIDE. It gives him a sense of importance that he will never have as a player.’

  ‘He is also an academic at a respected university,’ Wesley pointed out.

  ‘He is an associate professor. I have no doubt that a little notoriety will do him no harm at Yale,’ Digby retorted. ‘He is obviously a shameless self-publicist, and apparently merely starting his own journal was not enough to satisfy his ambition.’

  Wesley seemed on the point of replying, but checked himself. ‘Well, it may not matter,’ he said. ‘I was curious, that’s all. His motives may become obvious as we go along.’

  He paused again.

  ‘May I suggest that we all take time to think about this for a day or so in the light of what we have discussed? If, James, you then wish to proceed, Ben will draft the pleadings quickly, Herbert will serve them, and we will get the case under way.’

  ‘I don’t need any more time to discuss the matter,’ Digby said. ‘What I need is to start restoring my reputation. My instructions are to sue Hollander for libel without delay.’

  Wesley nodded. ‘Your instructions are that this article is wholly false?’

  Digby drew himself up in his chair.

  ‘Bernard, do you think for one moment that I would be here if …?’

  ‘I have an obligation to ask,’ Wesley replied. ‘Think carefully, James. Is there anything in your past that could give rise to suspicion, even if it were unfounded? Anything to explain why Hollander may have got the wrong idea about you, put two and two together and made five?’

  ‘No,’ Digby said. ‘And it is not a matter of getting the wrong idea. He is lying about me. We need to proceed with the action without delay.’

  ‘Very well,’ Wesley replied. ‘But perhaps you would indulge me for a moment?’

  ‘Of course.’

  Wesley walked to the bookcase to the right of his desk and took a volume from a shelf.

  ‘This is an anecdote of Chief Justice Holt in an old case called Johnson v Browning in 1704,’ he said. ‘The Chief Justice said he remembered: “another case very lately where a fellow brought an action for saying of him that he was a highwayman; and it appearing upon the evidence that he was so, he was taken in court, committed to prison, and convicted and hanged at the next sessions of gaol delivery. So that people ought to be well advised before they bring such actions.”’

  Wesley closed the book.

  ‘Just some food for thought,’ he said.

  6

  Bernard Wesley had resumed his seat behind his desk. The consultation had ended, and everyone except Ben Schroeder and Jess Farrar had gone.

  ‘I’ve asked the two of you to stay,’ he said, ‘because I think we need to make some further inquiries. I want to know more about Professor Francis R Hollander. I want to know who he is: his background, personal and academic; where he studied, what degrees he obtained; what his political affiliations are; and what he has written, apart from the present piece. If there is anything odd about him at all, I want to know. There is something not quite right about this case.’

  ‘You mean, because he is making himself too available?’ Ben asked. ‘Acting as if he can’t wait to be sued?’

  ‘That’s part of it, certainly,’ Wesley replied. ‘But I also want to know what his personal agenda is, and I want to know if there are people supporting him, people we can’t see at present. He claims to have had no contact with the CIA before he went to them with the Stepanov story. Is that true? Is there anything in his background which suggests otherwise?’

  ‘I suppose it’s possible,’ Ben suggested, ‘that the American Government, or the CIA in particular, feels that it is not getting anywhere with our Government – too many people defecting and no one being held responsible – and they decided that it might be a good idea to bring it all out in public. If so, they might have put Hollander up to it.’

  ‘Yes,’ Wesley agreed. ‘Then, the question becomes: have they done it speculatively, waiting to see what evidence might come out of the woodwork; or do they know something we don’t? We may not be able to find the answers to all these questions without some help from James. But he is in too emotional a state to help us very much at the moment, so I want to make a start without him.’

  ‘I will start a trawl of the libraries tomorrow,’ Jess volunteered. ‘I will start digging and see what I can find.’

  ‘Good,’ Wesley replied.

  ‘I thought I might take a look at Stepanov,’ Ben added. ‘According to Hollander, he is the man who recruited James. I am not sure how much information there will be, but it may be worth taking a look.’

  ‘I agree,’ Wesley said. ‘And give Jess whatever help you can.’

  ‘Of course.’

  * * *

  Ben and Jess rose to leave, but Wesley gestured them to stay in their seats.

  ‘There was something else I wanted to mention,’ he said. ‘There is no really delicate way to put this, but I think I am right in saying that you two are seeing each other. Is that the right expression? I’m not very au fait with how people express these things nowadays.’

  Ben and Jess exchanged smiles.

  ‘Yes, we are,’ he replied. ‘And seeing each other is a good way to say it.’

  Wesley smiled thinly.

  ‘Yes. The thing is that Jess works for Bourne & Davis.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And Bourne & Davis send you instructions, brief you for their cases in the courts.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Ben, you understand the implications, don’t you?’

  Ben’s smile suddenly vanished.

  ‘Bernard, if you’re asking whether I know it’s frowned on for a barrister to socialise with solicitors who instruct him …’

  ‘Or even solicitors who might instruct him, or their employees …’

  ‘Yes. I am well aware of that.’

  ‘Jess, I don’t mean to exclude you from the conversation,’ Wesley said. ‘But I’ve had a communication from the Middle Temple, the Inn of Court to which Ben and I both belong. They are concerned about what is called touting for work. It is a disciplinary offence for a barrister to use his social connections with a solicitor to tout for work. Obviously, a romantic involvement may count as socialising.’

  Ben shook his head in frustration.

  ‘There is no reason for them to frown on anything,’ he insisted. ‘Not in our case.’

  Wesley looked him directly in the eye. He stood and walked around his desk to lean against the front.

  ‘Ben, it goes a bit further than being frowned on. The Inn has set up a committee to look into any cases of apparent touting which come to its attention. Apparently, they feel that the rules are being disregarded, that it’s becoming more prevalent to have social contact between barristers and solicitors. They are afraid it is getting away from them. It’s not a trivial matter. Technically, you could get disbarred for it.’

  Jess looked at Ben in horror.

  ‘For God’s sake,’ Ben protested. ‘It is the second half of the twent
ieth century, Bernard.’

  Wesley held his hands up hopelessly.

  ‘I agree with you,’ he replied. ‘But as you well know, the Bar doesn’t live in the second half of the twentieth century. Some would say it is only now dragging itself rather reluctantly into the second half of the nineteenth. Don’t shoot the messenger, Ben. The Inn has raised the matter with me, about your particular situation and, as your Head of Chambers, I have a duty to bring it to your attention.’

  He paused.

  ‘Look, I don’t mean to pry. But do you mind my asking? How serious is your relationship?’

  Ben closed his eyes. He was silent for some time. He looked at Jess, then back at Wesley.

  ‘It is very serious,’ he replied quietly. ‘Jess kept me sane during the Cottage case. What with the verdict and the trip to the Court of Criminal Appeal, it was a very emotional time for me. And then, when Cottage was hanged … I know barristers are supposed to be objective and not get emotionally involved, but …’

  ‘You can’t help it,’ Wesley replied. ‘You have to put your feelings on one side to make a good job of the case, but that doesn’t mean the feelings aren’t there.’

  Ben nodded. ‘I was able to deal with it most of the time, certainly while I was in court,’ he said. ‘But Jess’s support kept me going. She drove me to London to see my grandfather when he had his heart attack during the trial. After that, we gradually fell in love. I …’

  Wesley pushed himself up off the table.

  ‘That’s all admirable,’ he said. ‘I’m not judging you, please believe me. In fact, I am all in favour. The only problem is how to get the Middle Temple off our backs.’

  ‘Our backs?’ Ben asked pointedly.

  ‘Yes. It comes back to me as Head of Chambers, as well as you.’

  ‘My God,’ Jess said quietly.

  ‘Look, don’t despair, either of you,’ Wesley said. ‘I’m not saying that we can’t find a way to deal with this. I am sure we can. But we can’t ignore it. What I am suggesting is that you allow me to undertake a little diplomacy on your behalf.’