Dempsey shook his head at the crowd gathered outside of the Houses of Parliament. It was mostly press, there to hear from the man who would surely be the next prime minister of the United Kingdom. Dempsey was there for a different purpose. But first he would have to endure the inevitable speeches.
As if on cue, Anthony Haversume strode out of one of the Palace of Westminster’s many side entrances. The entourage that followed him had tripled in size in the last few days. Hardly a surprise. Parasites always flow in the wake of the biggest fish, and Haversume was the great white shark. A shark that took his place at the makeshift podium erected just ahead of the statue of Oliver Cromwell.
There were many more suitable locations for a press conference. This spot – far lower than road height and with limited standing room around it – left the press packed in, some unable to move, the unluckiest unable to see. But other locations lacked one essential element: the iconic statue now prominent over Haversume’s right shoulder.
Dempsey could see the sense in the choice. By addressing the world with the statue of one of England’s most famous politicians behind him, Haversume was making a statement. Cromwell had been a committed servant in the history of British democracy. He had also been notoriously ruthless in his dealings with Ireland.
It was a clear message to anyone with a knowledge of history.
The murmur of the crowd grew to a din as Haversume finally took the podium. No individual questions could be heard through the wall of noise. Not that it mattered. Haversume had no intention of answering them.
He took his place and signalled for silence, waiting patiently as voices gradually died. Soon there was nothing but the sound of slowly passing traffic. Only then did Haversume begin.
‘As you all know, tonight sees a motion of no confidence in our government’s policies in Northern Ireland. You all know where I stand on this issue and what my intentions will be if this vote leads to William Davies’ resignation. But this is not a decision for me alone. It is an open vote, taken by all Members of Parliament. By those who represent the British public. By those who represent you.
‘Most who hear these words will be familiar with my opinions. And I hope they are sentiments with which you agree. For those unfamiliar with my position, I say this: the Member of Parliament who represents you will tonight have an opportunity to end William Davies’ shameful years as prime minister. I ask you to contact that Member’s office today and ensure that he or she does their duty. They represent you. They cannot ignore you. Use that power. End this surrender to terrorism. Instruct your MP to vote. To free us of the burden of William Davies.’
Haversume stopped speaking. But his jingoistic plea remained hanging in the air. A round of applause did nothing to shift it. From so close Dempsey could see the domestic press join in only half-heartedly. The podium-thumping style was just not the British way.
After a few seconds of silence, the questions began. Reporters stumbled over each other’s words as they fought to be first. They were all ignored. Haversume waved a hand, calling for more silence before he would continue.
‘You may well be wondering why I take this view. Why I believe that William Davies has been a disaster for this country and a shame upon us all. Why I believe that he must go, and that he must be replaced by a figure of strength. A figure of resolve. Once and for all, I want to make it clear.
‘For many years our country bore the brunt of terrorist atrocity. We stood alone against the longest campaign of terror endured by any Western power. The rest of the world stood by and watched as our streets, our buildings, our very homes were destroyed. Destroyed by Republican fanatics who regarded a disputed border in the north of Ireland as more important than the lives of British men, women and children. We received no help. No support. There was no coalition. No allied military force. We faced this thirty-year threat with no friend alongside us, but face it we did. Generations of young men and women from our armed forces stood as a barrier against this tide of mass murder. They stood together to keep the rest of us safe. They fought this terror, many to their last breath, and they were determined to beat it. They were men and women to be proud of. Men and women to honour. Men and women who gave their youth and, in too many cases, their very lives, to protect you, me and every other citizen of Great Britain.
‘And then came William Davies. A good man. An intelligent man. But by no means a brave man. William Davies made it his mission to bring this war to an end. It was a fine ambition, but he pursued it in an unacceptable way. A war is won through strength. Through sacrifice. A war is not won through concession and surrender, and yet this is exactly what our prime minister has done. William Davies met these people around a negotiating table but he failed to negotiate. Instead, he released all so-called ‘prisoners of war’. He emptied the prisons of both the mainland and Northern Ireland of their most dangerous inmates. He freed those whose very lives are dedicated to the defeat of this country. Worse still, he has invited the most treacherous of them to join him in the government of the United Kingdom. And for what? What did he receive in return? A promise that the terrorists would lay down their arms. In other words, he gave our enemies what they wanted to stop them attacking us. What is that if it is not surrender?
‘But it gets worse. The assurances of peace have failed. Yes, the IRA as it was is gone. Yes, the UVF as it was is gone. But they are just names. Titles. There has been no cessation of terror. It just comes with a different acronym. For IRA, read True IRA. For UVF, read UVA. They are one and the same. They are still attacking us. They are still killing our loved ones. They are still killing our soldiers. And what does William Davies do? Does he eject their political leaders from government? Does he re-imprison those murderers who walk our streets through his surrender, and who are no doubt behind the majority of the fresh attacks? No. He does none of these things. He sits on his hands and makes our once-great nation weaker by the day.
‘And so tonight we have an opportunity. Tonight Parliament – men and women who represent you – can say that enough is enough. Tonight they can remove William Davies from power and bring to an end this travesty. They can stand as one and say that their confidence in the government’s policies in Northern Ireland is gone. And in doing so they can tell the world that Great Britain is ready for a new form of government. One that will stand against those who attack us. One that will not be bullied. One that will stand firm and say “attack us at your peril”. That is the government I will offer and that is what Great Britain deserves. Give me the opportunity to provide it. Contact your MP. Instruct him or her to represent you, to say that you have no confidence in William Davies’ policies. Today is a day of reckoning. You have the power to ensure that reckoning occurs. Thank you.’
Haversume’s thanks came with a self-conscious smile. He turned away without another word and walked towards his waiting entourage. He did not look back and he did not respond to the questions that were erupting around him.
A press officer stepped up to the vacated podium. He took almost a minute to bring quiet to the crowd. Only then could the man explain that a question and answer session would be inappropriate until Haversume’s nomination for leadership of the government was confirmed. And that could not happen before the result of the vote.
Dempsey’s attention was not wasted on the press officer for even a moment. It remained fixed on Haversume.
As the politician walked away, surrounded by his entourage, Dempsey could not help but notice the change. Haversume had been of interest to the intelligence community for several years, since his first public criticism of Davies’ policies in Ulster. The military and the security services gave him almost unanimous support. It was no surprise that they would sympathise with the sentiments he regularly expressed; that they would agree with his fierce support for their actions and his powerful tributes to their sacrifices. Dempsey knew more than just the public face, though. He knew the man’s history. Things the public could not. And he knew of Haversume’s close relationships with people Dempsey trusted. Still he had doubts. Haversume might be making the right noises, but he remained the consummate politician.
Those thoughts were irrelevant today. Dempsey was not here for politics. What he needed from Haversume was personal.
Walking in the same direction as Haversume’s entourage, Dempsey made sure to move a step or two faster than its members. His long strides brought him level with the rearmost protection officers within seconds. They turned to intercept him. Dempsey flashed his DDS credentials. They were unnecessary. Dempsey had already been recognised and was permitted further into the huddle.
‘Sir, I wonder if I can speak with you?’
Haversume seemed surprised at Dempsey’s sudden appearance. He cast his eye around the accompanying officers, seeking an explanation. Dempsey understood. The man was a perpetual target for assassination. Any unknown face could be a threat.
‘I’m Major Joe Dempsey of the Department of Domestic Security. If I can have a moment of your time?’
‘Ah, that’s where I’ve seen your face before.’
Haversume stopped walking. His entire retinue halted with him.
‘You’re the man who brought down McGale. That was fine work.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Dempsey replied. ‘But I’m not here about that exactly. It really is important that I speak to you alone. Is now a convenient time?’
‘I’m sorry, Major, but I just have no time to spare. What with tonight’s vote. But my staff will make you an appointment for the earliest available opportunity.’
Haversume signalled to a tall, smartly dressed woman stood close by. She stepped forward to take over the conversation as Haversume began to walk away. He did not get very far, halting at the sound of Dempsey’s next words:
‘It really can’t wait, sir. I need to speak to you immediately regarding the murder of Daniel Lawrence.’