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Authors: Henry Porter

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BOOK: The Dying Light
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Mr Hale:
But was your assertion true?
Mr Eyam:
Yes, I had not heard of SPINDRIFT because it is an unofficial name given by my predecessor at the Joint Intelligence Committee to a project that was officially described as DEEP TRUTH, although I should perhaps make it clear that that name is rarely used. You see I had not understood that they were one and the same thing and so I misled the committee, for which I apologise.
Mr Hale:
Would you care to tell the committee what DEEP TRUTH is? After all, we have heard other evidence from officers in the Security Service, which backs up your original remarks that no such thing exists. You seem to be taking issue with some very creditable witnesses, Mr Eyam.
Mr Eyam:
I cannot tell you what it is because I am only here to correct the false impression I gave last time I appeared before you. I am here to assert that it does exist.
Mr Hale:
Is that all?
Mr Eyam:
Essentially, yes.
Mr Hale:
But you believe this to be an issue of sufficient importance for you to come here and correct the record.
Mr Eyam:
Yes.
Mr Hale:
But if this were the important matter you suggest surely Parliament, or at least this committee would recognise one or both of the names. There would be some cognisance of this matter and we would know what you were talking about.
Mr Eyam:
I suggest that there is some knowledge of DEEP TRUTH, which is why I believe I was asked the question the first time I came before you. I believe that indicates that there is - how shall I put? - limited awareness of DEEP TRUTH and therefore disquiet, among a very few people in Parliament.
Mr Hale:
And was this done with Parliament’s knowledge? Was there any legislation specific to setting up SPINDRIFT or DEEP TRUTH, whatever that might be?
Mr Eyam:
I believe it was brought into existence without the knowledge of Parliament. Members of this committee will know that there is an increasing trend towards granting wide discretionary powers to departments and ministers when a bill is going through Parliament, which means much passes into law without debate or publicity. A lot comes into being without public awareness.
Mr Hale:
Are you saying that it has no statutory basis and that this was done without the knowledge of the members of either chamber?
Mr Eyam:
It would not be the first time.
Chairman:
But surely these days there is an issue about expenditure. To your knowledge, have large amounts of public money been spent on SPINDRIFT?
Mr Eyam:
I cannot say.
Mr Hale:
Cannot say, or will not say?
Mr Eyam:
I cannot say accurately what expenditure is involved.
Mr Hale
: Is money your principal concern?
Mr Eyam:
It is always a concern, but if you ask my personal opinion, no it is not my principal concern.
Chairman:
I believe we are in danger of straying into the realms of fantasy here. We seem to be talking about something that has no agreed name and has never been sanctioned by Parliament or discussed in the secret proceedings of this committee. Mr Eyam will not say what it is; merely that this thing exists. It all seems a little too theological for this day and age. I mean, haven’t we got more important things to think about?
Mr Hale
: Mr Chairman, if I may, you are forgetting that Mr Eyam comes from the heart of the political establishment. He’s not a journalist in the grip of a conspiracy theory. He believes in the effective power of the state, as he told us before, but clearly his presence here indicates he has some concern.
Mr Eyam:
My beliefs are unimportant. I am simply here to correct the false impression I gave during my previous appearance. That is my legal duty.
Chairman:
Well, I think we will all agree that you have complied with that obligation. Thank you, Mr Eyam.
 
After reading the exchange again, Kilmartin pushed the papers away and sat back with his arms folded. Eyam had consciously given very little away but the admission of the existence of the entity known as SPINDRIFT or DEEP TRUTH held its own significance and was enough to get him into trouble. There were two more sheets of paper. The first was the record of evidence given later that day by Ms Christine Shoemaker, the deputy director of the Security Service. She was asked what she had to say about Eyam’s assertion and whether she could enlighten the committee about DEEP TRUTH. No, she said, she wasn’t aware of anything of that name and could not imagine what Mr Eyam was referring to. She confessed that she did not understand why Mr Eyam had been so anxious to appear in front of the committee a second time and then said so little. The last page of Mary MacCullum’s bundle was an email to Christine Shoemaker from Dawn Gruppo, one of the prime minister’s principal aides whom Kilmartin had met a few times.
From: Dawn Gruppo
Sent: 20 March 15:45
To: Christine Shoemaker
Subject: (no subject)
Christine,
The balloon has gone up at the ISC. D. Eyam admitted to 4-2. We need you to get over there now and give robust evidence to the contrary. They are expecting you and will make time for you during the afternoon.
Sorry this is short notice but essential that this is knocked on the head quickly. JT most concerned.
Best, DG
He looked up as the first fat raindrops of the storm began to splatter against the window. The email probably proved JT - John Temple - and Shoemaker knew of SPINDRIFT, DEEP TRUTH or 4-2 and were actively involved in the denial. Whatever this entity was. But what about Eyam? Why hadn’t he released all this when it had happened? Clearly he had the evidence at that time because otherwise he would not have gone to the committee. If he had qualms about doing so as a member of the Civil Service who’d signed the Official Secrets Act, surely those would have vanished once he had been sacked? Any number of websites would have published the material without a second thought, especially with supporting documents. Instead he had buggered off, leaving a whole lot of bloody stupid clues. If Eyam had had a plan it was now certainly unravelling.
He turned to the sound of footsteps coming rapidly across the cracked brown lino from the direction of the main stairs. In seconds Carrie was in front of him; her eyes and brow in upheaval. She tugged the cord to switch off the lights.
‘Four men have just come into the building and have asked to look around. I wasn’t in the Issue Hall when they arrived so I don’t know who they are. Brian at the door doesn’t know but thinks they are MI5.’
Kilmartin got up, folded the papers and pocketed them. ‘It’s frightfully important they don’t see me here, Carrie.’
‘Then you’d better leave by the fire escape on the fifth floor,’ she said. They stole up two short flights of stairs to a green door. She pushed the bar down to open it. An alarm sounded in the distance.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll explain that to them,’ she said.
Kilmartin found himself on a flat roof. He leaned into the wind and made for the side of another building fifty feet away. The rain had turned to hail and several times he lost his footing on a carpet of pea-sized hailstones. He reached the wall and looked down a fire escape that descended in stages to the first-floor level, then hooked right out of view. He should be at home considering the prospects for the weekend, not scampering around London’s roofscape like some delinquent novice spy, but he took his time because the fire escape was visible from different parts of the library and lights were coming on in sequence as the men toured the upper floors. He didn’t see them, but he spotted Carrie with her back to a window gesturing to someone, so he waited until she had gone before taking the last two flights on the escape and running full tilt to the point where the escape way disappeared behind the northern walls of the library. Even if they saw him now it would be too late. Masons Yard was below and in no time he would lose himself in the genteel evacuation of St James’s in readiness for the weekend.
18
Great Lord Protector
 
 
 
 
‘So, what was your ace?’ Kate asked Turvey as they walked towards the Bristol, which had been impounded for forensic tests the night before and was now waiting in the street near the police station for collection.
The great man wheezed his irritation. ‘Let’s just make sure everything is in order with the car, shall we?’
‘Mr Turvey, I’m your client; I need to know.’
‘Sam Calvert is picking up the bill. That makes
him
my client, but I accept that you do have some rights in the matter.’
‘The bill’s not an issue. I’ll pay it. If you have any doubts I can call Sam now.’
His eyes were watering in the cold and his hands had acquired a purplish hue. ‘Miss Lockhart, I am going back to London,’ he said firmly. ‘It was a very early start.’
‘I may need this information to protect myself.’ Her mind was half on the tape in the car and wondering if they had found Eyam’s message; that and the vast discovery of the night before. There was now absolutely no doubt in her mind that Eyam was alive.
‘To protect yourself? No, this information won’t protect you. Indeed there’s every reason to suppose that it will have the opposite effect. And anyway, my dear, it must be checked and that is what my people will do when we get back to London.’ He stopped. ‘You should leave here. Let things cool down a bit. The reason I insisted the police bail did not specify that you stay at Mr Eyam’s residence was because it is unsafe. I was not being frivolous, Miss Lockhart.’
‘But this information may have a bearing on things that you are unaware of - implications that you can’t possibly know.’
‘I have no doubt about that. I sense a dark hinterland in this affair in which I do not wish to trespass. Still less do I want my firm to go to a place whence it may never return, Miss Lockhart. You should extricate yourself from these matters as soon as possible.’
They had reached the car. Turvey pulled off an emissions penalty notice stuck to the windscreen and gave it to her. ‘It seems you have not made the proper adaptations to this vehicle.’
She unlocked the door and placed the ticket on the passenger seat with her computer, which had also been seized by the police.
‘You’re right - there is much more to this than you understand.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Come on - trust me: one lawyer to another.’
Turvey banged the car door shut. ‘There is almost certainly a listening device in there now,’ he murmured. ‘You must be careful who you talk to while you are using it and guard against indiscretion in what you say on the phone.’ He began to make motions to the car and driver waiting a little distance off. ‘There’s no doubt in my mind that they are targeting you for a reason. I urge you to leave for London as soon as you can.’
‘I’m going to collect my things and see Paul Spring and ask him to handle the sale. He was Hugh Russell’s partner.’ The offices of Russell Spring appeared in her mind. ‘I know what it is!’ she exclaimed. ‘It was something on the film, wasn’t it? The CCTV from Mortimer Street?’ He considered her and shook his head despairingly. ‘You or your team recognised one or both of the men,’ she continued. ‘You’ve got a name, haven’t you?’
‘A name that I do not as yet know: identification must be established beyond reasonable doubt.’
‘Then will you give me a copy of the film?’ she said.
‘This is not your property - it is the bank’s.’
‘Mr Turvey, I cannot tell you how important this is. I believe the men you’ve identified work for the government. Look, I have to have something to fight them with.’
‘ “Give me the tools and I’ll finish the job.”
‘What?’
‘That’s Churchill. Are you familiar with another quotation of his? “Courage is what it takes to listen.”
‘I insist, Mr Turvey. I need that film.’
He opened his briefcase and gave her a DVD in an envelope. ‘Copyright belongs to the bank, of course.’
She took it with a broad smile. ‘I’ll credit them.’
‘Sam Calvert said you’d moved over here to work in the London office. He says he’s going to miss you in New York; he speaks highly of you.’
‘That was nice of him.’
‘Normally I might seek to lure you away from him, but I think you’re too hot to handle, Miss Lockhart.’ He smiled. ‘I hope that I have the pleasure again, but perhaps in less fraught circumstances.’ He offered her a great soft hand and nodded as though indulging a mischievous teenager.
‘And you will give me the name?’ she said.
BOOK: The Dying Light
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