OVER THE COURSE of the bank holiday weekend, the investigation team had uncovered so much evidence of apparent abuse that the journalistic merit in running the story was beyond question. Everyone involved in the project, however, was acutely aware of the enormity of the decision which would have to be taken before a single word could appear in print.
William Lewis had been convinced from the beginning that the newspaper should go ahead with publication, provided the documents turned out to be genuine and that there was a clear public interest in exposing the expenses claims. But there was still a huge potential for the whole thing to end in disaster. Aside from the tiny percentage chance that the documents were in some way faked, there remained the question of how they had come into the Daily Telegraph’s possession. Arthur Wynn Davies had been steadfast in his belief that the disk itself did not constitute stolen property, and that the Telegraph would have an overwhelming public interest defence if Parliament tried to get the police involved. However authoritative his opinion, though, it was only an opinion, and there remained the very real possibility that the Telegraph could find itself at the centre of a criminal investigation over how it got the material. Instead of producing a world-beating scoop, the paper could become mired in a hugely damaging court case which would tarnish its reputation and end Lewis’s career. There was even an outside chance that Lewis could go to prison.
Then there was the possibility that Parliament would seek an emergency injunction to prevent the Telegraph’s presses rolling.
Lewis knew that the decision on whether or not to publish would define not only his tenure as editor, but also the entire ethos of the newspaper he had set about hauling into the twenty-first century in what had already been a difficult and at times painful process.
A former business journalist who had earned a reputation for breaking agenda-setting scoops during spells at the Mail on Sunday, the Financial Times and the Sunday Times, Lewis had become the youngest editor in the Daily Telegraph’s 150-year history when he was given the job in 2006 at the age of just thirty-seven. It was an appointment in keeping with the modernization of the paper, and its sister the Sunday Telegraph, that had been under way almost from the day the company had been bought by Sir David and Sir Frederick Barclay two years earlier. This modernization process was led by the next generation of the family – Aidan Barclay (the chairman of what would become Telegraph Media Group) and Howard Barclay. Both were passionate about placing the customer at the heart of everything the new Telegraph would do and were determined to transform the brand.
The Telegraph had had a long-standing reputation as a place that resembled a gentlemen’s club. Journalists would often leave the office for long lunches, while editors would sometimes disappear to the opera or theatre long before the paper was finished and had little day-to-day involvement in the news pages. Although much of the writing was excellent and the newspaper had a loyal following, the Daily Telegraph was not considered a major player when it came to breaking agenda-setting news stories.
By the time Lewis took the helm, the Telegraph had already gone through several major changes. Lewis himself had led the organization’s move from Canary Wharf in the east London docklands area to an office building above Victoria railway station just months before his promotion to editor. The centrepiece of the new headquarters was a vast, open-plan newsroom which had previously been a busy trading floor when the building was occupied by the investment bank Salomon Brothers. As big as a football pitch, with a 50-foot-high ceiling, the ultra-modern newsroom was a statement of intent. At its centre was a large circular table, ‘the hub’, where all editorial conferences took place. From there, long rows of desks radiated out like spokes, each one used by a different department, in a design which would be copied by, among others, the BBC and, ironically, Gordon Brown, who arranged one of the Downing Street offices in a similar, albeit much smaller, hub-and-spoke design.
The move in premises had enabled Lewis to start modernizing the editorial operation, merging many of the Daily Telegraph’s departments with those of the Sunday Telegraph to create a seven-day staff rota, as well as relaunching the Telegraph website with the intention of making it the most read newspaper website in the country, and adding an online television service to which reporters would contribute.
Inevitably, there had also been changes in personnel. As part of this, senior news executives – including Gallagher, Evans and Bayley – were recruited from the Daily Mail to overhaul the news operation. Lewis was also keen to rebalance the newspaper’s political stance, reaching out to the Labour government – which had previously been largely ignored by the staunchly Conservative old ‘Torygraph’ – in an attempt to give readers a more rounded view of what was happening in Westminster.
Rival newspapers delighted in criticizing the Telegraph’s new approach, suggesting that the ‘new regime’ had taken modernization too far, but many neutral observers had praised the newspaper for its sharper, more on-the-ball editorial content and its consistent ability to respond quickly to breaking news stories ahead of its rivals. All that was lacking was an agenda-setting scoop to make the country truly sit up and take notice of the new-look Telegraph.
So the expenses investigation seemed to have come along at exactly the right time. But even if all went according to plan, would the readers approve of the Telegraph taking on the entire parliamentary establishment, including the Conservatives, by using leaked information which the Telegraph might be accused of stealing?
On the morning of Tuesday, 5 May, Lewis, returning to the office after the bank holiday, called in Winnett to get a run-down of what had been discovered over the weekend. The editor had recently been sent a half-sized polo mallet by the promoters of a tournament and he had taken to waving it around the office as a prop whenever he was discussing the expenses story. As Winnett detailed the latest revelations, Lewis prodded the air with the mallet, saying: ‘Great, great – keep pushing, great stuff.’ Winnett found himself thinking: If I get one of these stories wrong, that mallet will end up in the back of my skull!
Lewis then called in Philip Johnston, one of the assistant editors of the Daily Telegraph and among the most respected voices in the newsroom. ‘Phil J’ had worked for the newspaper since the 1980s, as a parliamentary correspondent and later as home affairs editor, before becoming a comment and leader writer. Lewis regularly sought Johnston’s advice on political issues, and it was he who would later draft the leader article explaining the Telegraph’s decision to publish for the editor’s approval.
As Winnett began to explain some of the scams that had been uncovered, Johnston looked stunned. ‘This is incredible,’ he said. ‘I worked for years in Westminster and I had no idea this was going on. The readers will be furious.’
Lewis was pleased that Johnston shared his take on the story and its importance. Johnston was later to become one of the strongest advocates for the investigation – and his initial reaction had perfectly predicted how the public would respond to the story.
During the course of that Tuesday and Wednesday, Lewis had a series of similar conversations with other executives about the potential fallout – discussions from which the team working away in the bunker was largely insulated.
‘This will be either the biggest thing we ever do or the last thing we ever do,’ Lewis told consulting editor Rhidian Wynn Davies in a private moment.
Winnett, meanwhile, was asked by lawyer Arthur Wynn Davies to accompany him to a meeting with a leading QC who had been consulted from an early stage about the potential risks of an injunction and was retained to be on standby to resist any attempt to gag the newspaper. Winnett struggled to keep up with Wynn Davies’s frantic walking pace as the two men made their way to Victoria Underground station and on to Middle Temple, part of the cloistered sanctuary behind Fleet Street where barristers have their chambers.
Once inside the QC’s cramped, oak-panelled office, Winnett gave the barrister an overview of the Jack Straw council tax story, Gordon Brown’s expenses claims and the widespread evidence of ‘flipping’, to provide a flavour of the sort of material that might be published. The QC, who appeared genuinely excited to be involved, advised the pair against suggesting Parliament was involved in a cover-up (as the censored documents were still subject to change by MPs) but suggested that it was unlikely Parliament would seek an injunction. Nevertheless, nothing was being left to chance and the QC even began preparing witness statements from Winnett.
‘Good luck,’ he said as Winnett and Wynn Davies left his office.
There remained a separate risk that the Telegraph could face a criminal investigation. In the worst-case scenario, the police could raid the offices and arrest journalists and executives involved in the project. Although this was highly unlikely, the legal advice was to plan for every eventuality.
Winnett suggested calling in Steven Barker, one of London’s top criminal solicitors and an old friend. Barker provided advice on what to do if detectives arrived at the Telegraph headquarters: in short, staff should not impede the police but did not have to help them if they carried out a search.
He added: ‘There’s a possibility that they will arrest you. They would be on pretty weak grounds to do so, but this is very political and they may want to scare you. If they do arrest you, they’ll do it at dawn at your house. If that happens, don’t say anything, just call me.’
Winnett repeated the advice to every reporter working on the story, each of whom was provided with a card giving Barker’s home and mobile numbers, and another with the details of one of his colleagues, in case they were arrested at home. Barker also arranged for more than ten solicitors to be on standby to represent each of those working from the bunker should there be a coordinated series of arrests after publication. The news that reporters’ homes could become the scene of dawn raids did not meet with an enthusiastic welcome from the bunker team’s partners when they went home that night.
At midday on Wednesday, 6 May, having briefed Murdoch MacLennan, the chief executive of Telegraph Media Group, Lewis decided it was time to break the good news to the troops. ‘The investigation is going ahead,’ he said.
Within the hour, the bunker was transformed from a journalistic research laboratory to a self-contained newsroom capable of putting together a fully fledged newspaper. The reporters were joined by page designers, production journalists and picture researchers who would be putting the stories on to newspaper pages once they were written. Gallagher spoke to the circulation department and warned them to prepare to increase the paper’s print run. Evans and Winnett began to plan how the mass of information which had been identified by the team could be distilled into specific articles, not just on the first day of publication, but throughout the following week or so.
At first, the plan had been to break the expenses story in the Saturday edition of the paper, the biggest-selling issue of the week. But did it really make sense to publish the Telegraph’s biggest exclusive at the weekend? Far better, it seemed, to print the first stories on a weekday, when the general public is more tuned in to news and current affairs, in the hope that the story would dominate television and radio broadcasts, raise public awareness and make the Saturday paper a ‘must read’.
Lewis was keen to begin the campaign with a blockbuster ‘shock and awe’ edition detailing the expenses claims of the Cabinet. The sheer number of MPs the Telegraph would have to get through meant it was not going to be possible to spread the Cabinet out over several days. In addition, the knowledge that other newspapers had seen the expenses claims of Cabinet members when they were offered the disk meant they had to be done in one go, otherwise there remained a risk of rivals getting in on the act. Other MPs whose expenses had been seen by at least one other paper included Keith Vaz, chairman of the Home Affairs Select Committee; John Prescott, the former Deputy Prime Minister; and Michael Martin, the Speaker. All would have to be covered as a priority.
It was decided that the Cabinet should be covered on day one, with the most notable junior ministers to follow the next day. They were the people in power; their expenses were the natural place to start. The Sunday Telegraph would then highlight the huge claims made by Sinn Fein MPs and also focus on the first potentially fraudulent claims. The Shadow Cabinet would feature on Monday, followed by the huge gardening claims made by Conservative grandees on Tuesday. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and the following Saturday would detail the depth of the scandal on the back benches. Winnett, Watt, Prince, Rayner and Beckford would write the articles for the first day, with Swaine, Hope and Allen getting a head start on stories for day two.
After a week of studying endless documents, the investigation team could finally turn to writing their first stories. As the reporters went home that night, they were in no doubt that their entire careers were likely to be defined by the events of the following day.