The Bell Ringers

by Henry Porter

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, this morning I have had meetings with the Security Council, with the heads of the intelligence services, the government scientists and all the departments concerned with the deepening crisis in our water supply. Since I spoke at the Ortelius Institute for Public Policy Research, the situation has altered. We now have eight towns in the north of England without water, and three more are threatened. Well over forty reservoirs are affected and we cannot say how many more will join those that must be quarantined, treated and fitted with special equipment from America. In a moment the home secretary will speak to you, but it is important that the public understands that the government is taking this crisis very seriously and that we are applying the full might of the state’s power to deal with it. That is why I will be making a statement to the House of Commons to explain that I am invoking the emergency powers laid out in the Civil Contingencies Act 2004, and why I will address the nation later on today. As a government, we believe the mechanism known as the “triple lock” has been satisfied and that the temporary powers will, as required by law, answer the requirements of gravity and necessity and will be applied with geographical proportionality, which in layman’s language means the power will only be exercised where we think the water supply or the public are at risk. Britain’s traditions of civil liberties are at the heart of our discussions and we will take all steps to protect them as well as to ensure the public’s safety. Now before I hand over to Derek, I will take a few questions on this issue only.’

  A reporter from one of the tabloids raised a hand. ‘You say you have had a briefing from the Security Service, prime minister. Is there any suspicion that the red algae is the work of saboteurs, maybe even terrorists?’

  ‘The important thing in these kinds of situations, Jim, is not to spread alarm. Terrorism is certainly one of the possible causes that we have been looking at. The Security Service has knowledge of at least two groups who have actively considered such an attack in Britain.’

  ‘So you believe that TRA is the result of terrorist action?’

  ‘No, I am not saying that. This is one line of inquiry.’

  ‘But that is your favoured solution?’

  ‘What I believe has no relevance. I am simply saying these are the facts. We have two groups capable and willing to poison Britain’s water supply. That is enough for us to take action.’

  ‘Is there any information about these groups?’

  ‘No, I’m afraid not at this stage. You must understand that the priority is to catch these people and MI5 needs to maintain operational security. But I again stress that this is only one line of inquiry.’ He picked up the glass of water next to the lectern but rather than drinking, held it up to the room, so triggering a pulse of two dozen camera flashes. ‘Our main concern must be the scientific and technological response to this crisis so that in a few days every person in the country can drink a glass of water like this without fear.’

  All the work Cannon had done on the speech that morning, balancing the three possible causes and making Temple seem calm and statesmanlike had been undone. Half the journalists in the room left or started typing the line about a terrorist attack into their laptops and phones. He looked down at the paper that had been knocked up by Lyme and the chief of press at the Home Office that morning and wondered how Glenny was going to present the sweeping powers that the government was taking for itself.

  Glenny stepped up to the lectern and directed a businesslike grin at Temple. ‘You will all have a copy of the special measures that we are taking under the Civil Contingencies Act 2004 so I won’t detain you by going into a lot of detail. But before I start I would just like to underline what the prime minister has said about the seriousness of this situation, and add that we invoke these powers with a sense of duty to the constitutional rights of every citizen in this country. Security is our top priority, however. As section twenty-two of the act makes clear, emergency regulations may make any provision that the person making the regulations – in this case me – is satisfied is appropriate for the purpose of protecting human life, health and safety.’ That sentence was enough to put the room to sleep. Glenny did not make speeches; he intoned in a lifeless bureaucratic plainsong, and never would it be put to effect better than now, thought Cannon, as he watched him begin to read.

  ‘The powers that we introduce provide for, or enable the requisition of property; provide for, or enable, the destruction of property; prohibit movement from a specified place; require or enable movement to a specified place.’ He stopped and looked round. ‘We further plan to prohibit assemblies of specified kinds at specified places at specified times and make use of the part of section twenty-two that allows for the creation of an offence of failing to comply with provisions of the regulations or a direct order given under the regulations.’

  Glenny’s list took under five minutes to read. He ended with an apology for the technical language and an assurance that the powers would last for one week only. ‘If the government believes that it needs an extension then we will of course have regard to the requirements of the triple lock safeguard,’ he said.

  There was a silence in the room. Then a young journalist whom Cannon didn’t recognise stood up. ‘Am I right in thinking, home secretary, that you have in effect suspended the Constitution?’ He looked down at his notebook. ‘Confiscation of property without compensation . . . destruction of property et cetera without compensation . . . banning movement . . . banning assembly . . . the creation of new offences . . . these are the decrees of a police state, not a parliamentary democracy.’

  Glenny shook his head affably. ‘The prime minister will address the issues you touch on in the House this afternoon but I would just point out that these powers were passed by Parliament after many hours of debate and scrutiny in 2003. And when you talk about civil liberties let us not forget that the primary human right is the right to life.’

  He removed his glasses, nodded to Temple and they left together.

  27

  The Devil’s Quilted Anvil

  Three hours later, Cannon returned with the prime minister from the House of Commons. Temple was in buoyant mood: the House had pulled together and listened to him with solemn comprehension of the crisis now facing the nation. Only a few speakers had dissented from his argument of necessity, and those reservations expressed about civil liberties were hedged with so many salutes to Temple’s calm and responsible speech that they had little impact.

  As Temple’s car entered Downing Street, Cannon asked: ‘Have you had further thoughts about when you’re going to announce the election?’

  ‘I’m minded to leave this to sink in for a day and go to the palace on Wednesday morning.’

  The car stopped and its doors were opened by Temple’s bodyguards. They got out.

  ‘It may look as if you are bouncing the country into an election at a time of crisis,’ said Cannon as they passed through the front door of Number Ten.

  ‘I am satisfied these emergency powers are going to do us a lot of good,’ replied Temple. ‘The problem will be over in a week or so, once these filters are installed. We will have been seen to have acted decisively and we can get on with the campaign.’

  ‘And the emergency powers?’

  ‘They’ll be lifted in due course. Big picture, Philip! Big picture!’ He left Cannon with an equally meaningless light punch on the shoulder, a habit he had picked up from the American secretary of state.

  In the Communications room Cannon went to Lyme’s desk, pulled up a chair and sat down next to him. ‘It’s Wednesday – he’s definitely going on Wednesday.’

  Lyme’s eyes didn’t move from the screen. ‘Then he’s going to have to deal with this.’

  ‘What have you got there?’ asked Cannon.

  ‘Just a few emails from inside this building, a transcript of the secret proceedings of the ISC, an interesting document which describes the installation of a secret super-surveillance system and some CCTV film of two blokes
leaving a building.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  Lyme turned the screen to face Cannon and moved the cursor to a blank panel and clicked on the arrow. A caption appeared. CCTV THE POLICE DON’T WANT TO SEE OF SUSPECTS LEAVING THE OFFICE OF MURDERED LAWYER HUGH RUSSELL.

  Cannon watched the two men going into the building followed by a woman. Thirty-five minutes later they hurried out. One was carrying a file, the other clutching his face. The woman did not reappear before the ambulance and police. The film ended and the panel was filled with two stills of the men blown up.’

  ‘Oh Christ,’ groaned Cannon.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Those men were with Jamie Ferris at Chequers yesterday.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Positive. Ferris brought them on Eden White’s helicopter.’

  ‘Was JT in the same room?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Not good. What were they doing in High Castle?’

  ‘I don’t want to know.’

  Lyme looked doubtful. ‘You may have to – there’s a lot of speculation on the web. The lawyer was shot outside David Eyam’s home, the transcript is of Eyam’s evidence at the ISC and the emails about Eyam come from JT’s private office. But this surveillance thing sounds creepy. Know anything about it?’ He stopped and waited for a reaction but none came. ‘The thing you told me about Eyam this morning, Philip: that could be really big. We don’t need it now. All the usual sites are pumping out conspiracy theories.’ He paused again. ‘How many people know he’s alive? Does anyone have an idea where he is?’

  Cannon was silent for a moment, then went to his own desk and picked up the phone and dialled. As the number rang he swivelled his chair to face the window.

  ‘You know that business we discussed in the pub,’ he said when Kilmartin answered. ‘I think it may be time to meet.’

  ‘The Travellers Club at six?’

  ‘Six thirty?’

  ‘Fine.’

  Cannon saw John Temple once more that day. He was summoned by Dawn Gruppo to the prime minister’s sitting room at four p.m. He arrived late with a sheaf of papers and print-outs. Temple was at a desk in the corner of the room talking on one of three phones. Gruppo was standing next to him with her usual look of fierce concern. Shoemaker, Alec Smith and Andrew Fortune were on the sofas, while Jamie Ferris was at a round table covered with pictures of June and Temple’s three children from his first marriage.

  Temple handed the phone to Gruppo, who murmured something before hanging up and hastening from the room.

  ‘Jamie was just bringing us up to date with the developments,’ he said as Cannon sat down opposite the large mirror.

  ‘About twenty members of the “Bell Ringers” – that is their name for themselves we think – met in a church near the village of Long Stratton. Our informant says that Eyam was there and he addressed the group but did not look well. We now have all the names of the people who were there. We believe there may be one or two others involved, people from Eyam’s past in Oxford. All those at the church—’

  ‘Let me just get this straight,’ interrupted Temple. ‘They have been using churches to meet. Isn’t there some sort of law against that?’

  ‘They are all part of a bell-ringing society. Bell ringers use churches when services aren’t being held – an ideal place. They use half a dozen churches in the area,’ he said. All those in the church were asked to retrieve packages they were keeping for David Eyam and bring them to London immediately. These are to be assembled and used at some sort of press conference at an as yet undisclosed location.’

  ‘A press conference,’ said Temple. ‘Have you heard anything about this, Philip?’

  Cannon shook his head.

  ‘So twenty individuals or thereabouts,’ continued Ferris, ‘left in various vehicles from the church last evening and made their way to London, presumably after picking up the packages. One car, carrying Tony Swift, the coroner’s clerk and Eyam’s right-hand man, was involved in a collision last night. Mr Swift and his passenger were killed. The police will be asked to search the vehicle and the bodies for any papers, as a matter of urgency.’

  ‘What about this informant? Have you got her package?’

  ‘We have only recently acquired the services of this woman, but we have seen what was in her package and copied it.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘It’s relatively harmless material – embarrassing if it came to light but not a disaster.’

  ‘So where is Eyam?’

  ‘We must assume that he is in London, but if I may just go back to the church. An hour or so before the meeting, Kilmartin met Kate Lockhart for twenty-five minutes at the exact same place. This only emerged when the data from the tracker on his car was tallied with the information received about the church meeting. I thought you ought to know that, prime minister.’

  ‘So we are to believe Kilmartin is in league with Eyam?’

  Alec Smith spoke. ‘He may have a reasonable explanation why he met Lockhart there, but it does seem as you suggest. After all, that is what we suspected when we acquired the analysis of the film from Colombia.’

  ‘Do we have an idea when Eyam is going to move?’ asked Temple.

  ‘No, but we can assume in the next day or two.’

  ‘We have all their details,’ said Temple. ‘We know their names, which means we know what they look like and that means they’re going to find it very hard to move about the capital. Your people are working on this I take it, Christine?’

  ‘Yes, now we have the names,’ she replied.

  ‘What are we going to do if Eyam does go public. Philip?’

  ‘He already has, or at least someone has,’ replied Cannon. He got up and distributed the print-outs of the web pages Lyme had found and a still from the CCTV footage of the two men.

  ‘We’ve seen this,’ said Shoemaker. ‘We believe the documents come from Mary MacCullum. We are looking at the site and taking steps to remove the information.’

  ‘But the CCTV film is the point, Christine,’ said Cannon sharply. ‘That man is the same one who came with Jamie to Chequers yesterday.’

  ‘The identification is not at all clear,’ said Ferris without concern.

  ‘But you’re not denying it. This man has been caught leaving the scene of a crime. If the police were doing their job he would be a suspect in a murder case. And then you bring him to Chequers.’ He turned to Temple. ‘This is very serious, prime minister.’

  ‘You may have a point, Philip, but the priority now is to get hold of Eyam and his material and prevent him and his associates disrupting the democratic process. That’s where we are now; that is what matters now.’

  ‘But you’re not going to be able to suppress this information, prime minister. The transcript from the Intelligence and Security Committee can’t be denied. It is out there now. And people will wonder what this surveillance system is about. Even if Eyam is arrested or silenced this will become an issue.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think that is necessarily true. The public knows that the government has the means to fight crime and terrorism and sometimes these things must remain secret in order to be effective. Do you hear people complaining about them? Do you hear people saying they feel less free? No, because they understand that one of the primary duties of government is to protect the public.’ He rose from his desk and moved into the centre of the room, his eyes never leaving Cannon. ‘We have come through a lot, Philip. You above all appreciate that people want a strong state. They want to know that there’s someone at the top taking the tough decisions. And oftentimes they don’t want to hear about the agonies of government – what we go through.’ Shoemaker and Alec Smith nodded. ‘Look, for a day or two this may be ticklish but it is your job to make sure that it doesn’t last longer, Philip.’

  ‘Ticklish is not the word I’d use, prime minister. If these revelations continue people will begin to think that their constitutional rights are threatened. This syst
em will be portrayed as a monster – a technological hydra. They weren’t consulted about it but it was their money that paid for it.’

  ‘Philip! Philip! Let me tell you something: they don’t want to be consulted about every complex piece of government apparatus. This system makes the country safer from all the problems that have plagued us.’

  Cannon could feel himself about to lose it. He looked down to his feet and counted to three. Then he looked up. ‘Everyone in this room knows the power of this surveillance system, I’m sure. I’m merely giving you my reaction as someone who has only come to know about this today. This system breaches constitutional rights and destroys lives.’

  ‘I don’t agree, but the point is that these matters are of the utmost secrecy, Philip, and the government cannot discuss them. You will think of a way of dealing with it without going into detail.’ The parenthetic smile lines began to form and the eyes squeezed shut. ‘Now if you wouldn’t mind we have one or two more things to discuss. I just wanted you to understand where we were, and give you notice of this problem.’

  Cannon got up feeling oddly relieved. As he left the Great Lord Protector with his favoured generals, he felt something clear in his mind.

  At six twenty-five p.m. Kilmartin was handed a note by the porter at the entrance of the Travellers Club. He turned back into Pall Mall and took a cab to Madagascar, a lounge and dining club off Charlotte Street, where he found Philip Cannon in the corner of the bar with a broadcasting trade paper and pint of bitter.

  ‘They’ve got a tracker on your car,’ he said when Kilmartin had ordered from the waiter.

  ‘Really?’ said Kilmartin, looking around at the membership of the Madagascar – middle-aged advertising and TV people dressing too young.