‘In the course of your investigations have you—’
‘Freddie, don’t you think that’s a bit hi’falutin? I’m a reporter, not Plodder of the Yard.’
‘Are you going to be serious?’
‘Sorry.’
‘Does the name Wallace Curran mean anything to you?’
‘No. What’s the context?’
‘MI5.’
Suddenly the ingenue was wiped from Alex’s expression. He looked hammily around to see who in a roomful of deafening noise might hear their whispers, nudged his glass nearer Troy’s and put his weight on one elbow.
‘You mean Paddy Fitz and MI5?’
‘Yes. Have you heard this?’
‘No. I’ve not heard it. I’ve thought it, my God I’ve thought it, but truth to tell I’d dismissed it as pretty well preposterous. But it does rather explain one thing that’s had me puzzled.’
‘Just tell me what you know, Alex.’
‘Official, is it?’
‘How official do you like your murders to be?’
‘There’ve been deals done.’
‘Deals?’ said Troy, sounding and feeling rather ignorant.
‘In the House.’
‘The Commons?’
‘Of course the Commons. Does anyone give a fuck what happens in the Lords? Contrary to popular definition, there’s more to being a good parliamentarian than remembering to call your opponent honourable as you shout the bugger down. It covers some very shady cross-party deals. For example, I know for a fact that Wilson agreed not to press for a debate when Charles Leigh-Hunt defected. He even argued against the idea in the House. Didn’t it surprise you to find another Burgess and Maclean scandal spread across the papers and no real reaction from the Opposition? They did a deal. To keep Macmillan in power. If there’s one thing Wilson is scared of it’s facing one of the younger Tories in the next election. He wants Macmillan to lead the Tories till the flesh falls off his bones. They did a similar deal over Fitz and Woodbridge. There’d be only the pretence of a debate. I think the way they handled Charlie set the pattern, and if they hadn’t I might not have been so suspicious this time. They sold Fitz out, for the same reason they did a deal over old Charlie. Complete waste of time of course – Woodbridge has done for Macmillan. Only a matter of time. The smart money says Supermac will go before the year’s out. But . . . and what a but it is . . . I’ve been mightily puzzled to know quite what Wilson had on the Tories, but if it’s this, if you’ve got it right, then it explains everything.’
‘I don’t believe this.’
‘Freddie, I know you and my father have nothing but contempt for Wilson. In fact, he seems to be the butt of most of your jokes when the two of you get together, but believe me, he’s the most devious operator in the Commons. His mother’s false teeth are not safe in their tumbler!
‘Think about what you’re telling me. If MI5 ran the Tereshkov business, then there was no security issue. Labour agreed not to make an issue of Tim Woodbridge’s morals, simply because it was a shot in the dark; it could rebound anywhere. We’re a nation in rut. There are illicit couplings in every layby of every highway; there are orgies twice nightly with matinées on Wednesdays in half the houses of Belgravia. The aristocracy seem to be going mad with Polaroid cameras and blow jobs. There are more nymphs and satyrs in Richmond Park than frolicked in ancient Greece. Who knows who is fucking who? Who really wants that question answered? So they kicked around the non-issue of security instead, knowing it was nonsense. They had a lot of fun, but that’s all it was. However, there still had to be a national scapegoat. And since it couldn’t be Woodbridge, it had to be Fitz. He was a dead duck the minute Macmillan and Wilson put their heads together – and if I knew for certain that that was the literal truth and not just a metaphor, I’d have the story of a lifetime. Now, if I had a name – if in fact you have just given me a name—’
‘Don’t even think about it, Alex. If Fitz was a spook, then this is a mess and a half. You may never get to print it.’
‘So Wallace Curran is between you and me?’
‘Yes.’
‘How did you find out about him?’
‘I can’t tell you.’
‘You know, Uncle mine, there are times when the family act seems singularly less effective than the old pals’ act. Whatever happened to you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours?’
Troy said nothing. Alex changed tack. ‘How do you think Wilson found out about it?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ Troy lied, with copies of Wilson’s replies to Fitz tucked away in his wallet. ‘Have you spoken to your father?’
‘No,’ said Alex. ‘I don’t know how to. How does one discuss such a thing with one’s own father? I can’t think of a way to raise it with him.’
‘I can,’ said Troy.