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PROLOGUE “SUNNY JIM”
Throughout this book I mention various people
that I met, bumped into, brushed against, or had various other forms of
contact with from good friendship to confrontation. Some of these contacts
definitely affected my life in one way or another. I have mentioned Moody
and Virgo at the beginning of my story and later Marcel and then Nick and
(of course) my wife Nelly throughout my story from 1975 to this date.
My father knew James Callaghan quite well. We
were living in Wales throughout the war and for a few years thereafter. I
was sometimes in their company but I was only a young lad then. My father
considered Callaghan to be a ‘Bolshie Rabble Rouser’ in the early days (he
was a friend of the ‘real’ Tax Inspector for that area) and then there is a
‘story’ attached to his sudden enlistment (aged 31) in the Royal Navy in
1943. (I think as a ‘ships steward’)? At the end of the war Callaghan popped
up again, now as the Labour MP for Cardiff South (after the Labour
‘landslide’) and my father said that “The bugger has got his nose into
everything” Their mutual friend was the then Lord Mayor of Cardiff, whom my
father later wrote about (quite amusingly) in the ARDE’s in-house quarterly
magazine.
Now fast forward ten years to 1957 and I am a
probationary Police Constable at London’s Bow Street Police Station. I have
just brought in two prisoners for the desk sergeants attention. I have
arrested them for the offence of OPD (Outraging Public Decency) in a public
urinal within the Convent Garden Market area. One of the men (an actor) is
weeping (in a most effeminate manner) and the other, a small pompous man is
shouting that he is a Member of Parliament and demanding to speak to the
Chief Superintendent immediately. I am told to wait in the canteen whilst
writing up my notes, and another officer is sent up to Supt Jones’ flat
(above the Police station).
I had completed my notes and was prepared to give
my evidence to the Desk Sgt when I was called back to the Front Office. The
actor had stopped crying and was now preening himself and the arrested M.P
was in a friendly huddle with the Chief Superintendent and another M.P who
had now turned up at Bow Street after a phone call from the first. The
arrested M.P who, according to my notes was named Driberg, said something to
the others which caused a burst of laughter from all, and the second M.P
turned to look at me. It was Callaghan our old Cardiff M.P !
The last time I had seen Callaghan he was an
‘eager-beaver’ desperate ‘net-worker’ Uriah Heep’ish in his eagerness to
please and be accepted. No longer! He had put on weight and his face now had
the patina of good grooming, food and wines. No longer Uriah Heep, he now
exuded Power and Confidence. I later found out why. He was the Mr Fixit of
the House’s of Commons and the Lords and the Great and the Good including
certain members of the Royal Family a direct conduit between them and the
corrupt senior Police who could ‘Arrange Things’ and there were a lot of
’things to arrange’ in those years! He also acted as the ‘middleman’ holding
the money where relevant, at that time Callaghan was the ‘Parliamentary
Advisor to the Police Federation’ and knew everybody worth knowing within
the Met! That was his power base which he kept throughout his career and it
enabled his rise to the top.
I was told that I should put my pocket book away
and return to my patrol. A few weeks after I had arrested him, the nasty
little bugger that I caught with his trousers down was appointed Chairman of
the Labour Party and a few weeks after that I had left the Metropolitan
Police and started work as a salesman for an import and export company in
the City of London.
My father was right in his opinions of Callaghan
who had now ruined my career in the Police. That incident was the last straw
for me at that time.
Now fast forward 12 years to 1969. I had rejoined
the Police Force in 1960 (thanks to the Callaghan inspired pay rises for the
Police.) I had risen to the rank of Detective Sergeant and was waiting to go
on to the Flying Squad which would have helped my career no end. In
anticipation of this advance I was renewing all my informant contacts and
busily seeking further potential informants. (The lifeblood of the Flying
Squad.)
When an up and coming local criminal phoned me up
to say that he wanted to give me some information, I put down the papers I
was working on and went off to meet him, another one who could be of use to
me on the Squad! The volunteer informant turned out to be one Michael Perry
whom I had met briefly when some Nuneaton CID had brought him into
Camberwell for questioning. Perry was very nervous and his information was
to the effect that two Crime Squad Officers has fitted him up with dynamite
and were demanding information from him in exchange for dropping the
dynamite possession charges. I promised to try and help him and gave him a
‘soft’ recruitment spiel. I then went to Peckham and asked Jim Sylvester to
pass on a warning to Bernie Robson whom I knew to be a friend of his. (They
had served together at Chelsea).
Jim asked me to ‘keep an eye on’ Perry who
sounded like ‘trouble’
Normally I would have kept a good mile between
Perry and myself after that first meeting (as Jim did after my warning) but
both Jim and Bernie had passed the last Selection Board for Detective Chief
Inspectors and were just waiting for the vacancies to come up. They were
both very well thought of as Detectives and I could find myself working with
either one or the other (or both) as my chiefs, when I went onto the Flying
Squad.
Perry phoned twice more over the next few weeks
and I overcame my natural reluctance to again meet with this unsavoury young
thief, but I had promised to ‘keep an eye on him’ and I knew that Bernie was
still meeting him so all seemed OK . Bernie was now arresting numbers of the
various gangs involved in the duplicate key robberies and I wondered if
Perry had taken my advice to give the Police the information they wanted.
The second meeting lasted as long as it took me
to light and smoke a cigarette and I repeated the No 3 recruiting speech,
but this time with ‘knobs on’ i.e. He could help me and I could help him and
we could ‘even work in together’ Perry seemed impressed.
The last meeting was a repeat of the first and
second but this time with ‘knobs on the knobs’ i.e. we could not only work
in together but I could actually work for him? Every little crooks dream?
His very own tame bent copper. WOW!! When I later heard the recordings I
heard Perry plaintively asking one of the reporters if they could ‘leave me
out of it’. So Drury’s old recruiting speech had worked its wonders yet
again?
A few days later I read the No 3 recruiting
speech on the front page of the Times newspaper, repeated three times? The
first was broken up and was in parts only but the other two were loud and
clear and obviously repeats of the first speech. There was now one
additional point. Perry was now claiming that I was charging him £50 per
performance? The original delivery and the two repeat performances. Or he
was donating this fee? What is it called? Appearance money? Well anyway it
was ’Good Bye’ to The Flying Squad ! They were not ‘into’ comedians seeking
publicity?
I did not deny the recruiting speech but the
money allegation was a libel and a writ was issued to the Times that same
day. (29th November 1969)? The Scotland Yard Investigation had started the
previous evening when a copy of the newspaper was taken to the Yard and a
‘top man’ was then appointed to head it. Detective Chief Superintendent Fred
Lambert had cracked the case before Christmas. It was all complete
‘billiards’ Easy!
The whole thing was a ‘get up’ by an ex safe
blower name of Brennan who after spending most of his life in prison for
failed safe blowing’s, had started a new life as a receiver of stolen
property He became the ‘Mr Big’ that Bernie Robson and his merry men had
been trying to track down, and it was his name that they tried to get out of
Perry, with the aid of a piece of dynamite (or plasticene), Perry ran to
Brennan for some help instead.
Brennan made a plan. He was ‘friends with’ one of
the editors of the Times and he would arrange for Perry to complain directly
to him. He had answered an advertisement in the Times for ex-criminals to
advise their readers on the best way to protect their properties from
burglars! ‘Peter’ (or Pete) had invited him up to the Times’ Offices in
London and Pete apparently shared his hatred of, and contempt for, each and
every London Policeman of that day. Brennan’s advice was later printed.
Brennan telephoned Pete and told him the ‘story’
Pete was interested and spoke to Perry. He then told Perry that he would
send two ‘top reporters’ down to interview him and try to get evidence of
the Police threats. The two ‘top reporters’ Lloyd and Mounter then spent
several days interviewing the local crooks laid on for them by Brennan and
Perry and then reported back to Peter who arranged for a Sound Engineering
Company to supply recording equipment and a Sound Engineer to run the
equipment. The reporters and the engineer and his assistant then spent
several weeks telephoning and asking to meet just about every active ‘thief
taking’ Detective in that part of South London. Several dozen?
All these calls were made from Perry’s mothers
flat in the Peckham area. Perry’s mother a convicted ’hoister’ (professional
shop lifter) was the person who in fact supplied my name and telephone
number to the reporters as I had dealt with her when she visited Camberwell
Police Station on occasion. There were about two dozen ’catches’ from the
entrapment calls (offering information) and a dozen and a half meetings with
Detectives were successfully recorded by the sound engineer. Three were
printed on Saturday the 29th of November and the rest were going to follow
on over the next two weeks! Some scandal it would have been and the ’making’
of Peter, Mounter and Lloyd as ’investigative reporters’?
It later came out at the Committal of Robson and
Harris that all three had planned to ‘write a book’ about their heroic
exploits in this case and had discussed bringing out this book as a ‘Penguin
Special’ following on the system then in use by the Sunday Times Insight
Teams. Investigate and report a scandal and start writing the book from day
one on.
Well ‘not quite’ the whole get-up fell to pieces
the minute Fred Lambert and his Sgt Baz Haddrell walked into the Times
Office that same day. Scotland Yard had been busy the whole night after the
reporters had brought in the next day’s paper and the supporting ’evidence’
and specialist people had looked carefully at the evidence of tape
recordings, transcripts, photographs, statements and the various notes of
evidence.
Everything was a complete and hopeless ‘mess’
This was ‘Pete’s work’. So who was Pete? Over there, the ’economics editor’
Peter Jay. ((I go into the ’evidence’ in the relevant chapter)) but Peter
Jay kept on about “what daddy might say? or might think? or might do“? So
who is ’daddy’ then? Wait a minute! There was an MP Douglas Jay who got
sacked from his job at The Board of Trade a couple of years ago? Oh no not
that daddy? Who is the other daddy then? Oh No! not him again not ‘Sunny
Jim’ CALLAGHAN? Our own Boss, The Home Secretary.
Well now Mr Jay, the tape recordings you gave us
are not all originals? Some are (the telephone conversations) but the others
appear to be ‘edited copies’? We would like to see the originals! There
appears to be no continuity of the handling of these tapes and that is
important.
The photographs you have given us have no
evidential value whatsoever! Do you have any others? The reporters notes are
obviously concocted at a later date and their statements do not provide the
evidence required to support their allegations.
The numbers of the bank notes that you allege
were given to these police officers some weeks or months ago are genuine
bank note numbers but according to the Bank of England these particular
numbered notes were not printed and issued to clearing banks until last
week? You were also using unlicensed short wave radios during your
observations and that was illegal and will be reported to the Post Office.
We have spoken to your friend Mr Brennan and his
young criminal associates and I now propose to take a statement from you
which will be taken under caution. “You are not obliged to say anything blah
blah”.
Deflation of “The Brightest Young Man In Britain”
As he had once advertised himself! “The young man ’voted’ to go the
furthest” etc. I heard that the Times Newsroom was busy but there were two
miserable looking ‘dwarves’ standing forlornly in a corner as if in
disgrace. One of the dwarves was described by the observer as “The ugliest
looking dwarf he had ever seen”! So these were the two ’top reporters’ were
they? Lloyd and Mounter? And then I remembered. I had seen two dwarves at
the time of my first meeting with Perry. We were sitting in my car and the
side street was deserted, when an ugly dwarf came scampering along past my
car. He was carrying a large old fashioned type of tape recorder covered
over with a piece of newspaper which was flapping about as he ran. Another
dwarf was running along behind the first and was calling out (squeaking)
stop, come back, not that way. this way! The ugly dwarf seemed to be very
angry and continued on past my car The second dwarf appeared to be very
effeminate and I assumed that it was a lovers tiff! Perry and I had made a
joke about this incident but this was not recorded in the transcript. And
therefore it was not on the tape recording?
There was another incident during the third and
last meeting in the Grove car park. There was a nondescript looking man
hanging about, he was wearing an old raincoat open at the front and a snappy
sort of trilby hat. He appeared to be looking in all the cars and as he came
towards our car he stopped and fiddled inside his coat. It was then I saw
that he was wearing a camera around his neck with the lens protruding
through his open coat. I made a joke about him and Perry responded to it,
That conversation was not in the transcript or on the tape recording either.
The photographs he had taken were now in the Times newspaper!
In both cases there was proof of editing where
those conversations would have been? Psychological explanations anyone?
‘Perfect’ fit-up required?
The two reporters were brand new to the Times,
one had come from some unheard of paper in Wales and the other from some
local ‘free’ paper in the Home Counties. But both could be described as
trained ‘journalists’! Jay on the other hand was neither an economist nor a
journalist, He held some sort of honorary position invented when his father
in law slipped him into the Times days before he lost his own job as
Chancellor of the Exchequer from which position he had slipped Jay into the
Treasury and from where Jay had been supplying the Times with nuggets of
stolen information from his father-in-laws breakfast table, His previous
journalistic history?
Lambert put a team into the Times to interview
and take statements from everybody and the whole sorry story came out.
‘Certain people’ were not very pleased about what had gone on behind the
scenes. They included the Editor and the Owner.
Rees Mogg had written both the Editorial and the
Story and very prettily so, powerful and cogent. Nobody could ever doubt
‘his’ journalistic credentials. The only problem lay within the ’facts of
the case’ around which he had constructed his pieces. The fact was, that all
the ‘facts’ he had been fed by Jay and his dreadful dwarves were all ’
billiards’ And so!
Thomson was advised by his lawyers to pay a
quarter of a million pounds into the High Court against my libel action and
a short while afterwards similar sums against the writs of Robson and
Harris. He was not pleased.
I was later asked why I had not been ‘warned’ by
the capering dwarves carrying tape recorders and the typical cartoon Fleet
Street photographer. All he needed was a card with PRESS written on it stuck
in that hatband!
I replied that I noticed them and was not at all
worried. Why should I be? I was meeting an informant for a five minute chat
(as registered in my desk diary on each occasion) I was completely relaxed
as the meeting was entirely innocent and in order. BUT if there had been
corruption involved it would have been an entirely different matter, I would
have been on high alert and VERY aware of any such incidents as those above.
Perry was experienced enough to have realised that if he had attempted to
give me money under those conditions I would have reacted very forcefully.
Anyway it was all water under the bridge now.
Fagin Brennan and the cheeky young cockney chappies within his thieves den
had tried it on, but had been let down by a bunch of incompetents at the
Newspaper.
Lambert was one of our best senior officers, very
competent, very honest, very experienced, very fair, very respected and
absolutely immaculate on paper. He was wrapping things up and paid me a
visit in Barbara’s wool and button shop where I was helping out for a couple
of hours in the afternoons so she could do her shopping. Fred told me it was
all over and complimented me on my calm behaviour during the scandal. He
then bought some rather nice buttons which could go on his next blazer! Baz
told me that the final report had gone in to the Director of Public
Prosecutions office. It was very clear and to the point. The guilty persons
should be charged and the innocent cleared. The Times team had clearly
conspired with Brennan and others to pervert the course of justice! End. Or
so we thought! Certain people were less than happy about the outcome of the
investigation, Thomson was not happy about the amount of his money now
sitting in the High Court and awaiting our collection.
Callaghan was not happy about his son-in-law
heading the list of people to be charged with various offences, (starting
with conspiracies) the ‘top reporters’ were into nervous breakdowns and
believed themselves to be followed by assassins and so the counter-attack
got under way.
A large number of crank letters suddenly appeared
in certain newspapers expressing concern that the Metropolitan Police were
being allowed to investigate themselves? Surely it was time for this anomaly
to be put right? It seemed that people in general were not happy with the
result of the investigation?
But how did they know of this result? It had not
been published? Only the Investigating Officer and the Director of Public
Prosecutions knew and of course Lord Thomson and the Home Secretary knew as
well?
Callaghan then made ‘history’ (bearing in mind
the ‘public disquiet‘) He issued an ‘edict’ that he would call in a
(‘strong-man‘) Chief Inspector of Constabulary (Frank Williamson) and
instruct him to choose an ‘outside’ team of Detectives to ‘take over’ (and
re-do?) the Investigation?
Williamson duly turned up at New Scotland Yard
with a motley gang of (soon to be notorious) Midlands Serious Crime Squad
thugs in tow.
The mother of all rows immediately broke out as
Callaghan had forgotten to annul those Acts of Parliament that had set up
the Metropolitan Police and cast its duties responsibilities and privileges
in bronze. As the then Commissioner was pleased to inform both Williamson
and Callaghan.!
Williamson hung around the Yard for as long as he
could, He and his men were set to silly pointless tasks until Williamson
walked out on the job, resigned his post, lost his (automatic) knighthood,
and gave numerous interviews criticising Scotland Yard but the ‘strong-mans’
voice was now that of a broken old man (which he then was). Thank you Mr
Callaghan?
Callaghan had cunningly ‘muddied the waters’ The
investigation that had been completed in three weeks was now to last a
further three years and to cost the public purse multi-millions of pounds.
It is still uncompleted but Jay + Co have escaped justice and Thomson has
kept his money. Callaghan had failed in his ‘outside takeover‘ attempt but
he still had the power and influence to effect a takeover from the inside
and this is what he did. Commander Roy York was the Reserve Senior Officer
on duty the night that the Times reporters arrived at Scotland Yard with
their story and their ‘evidence‘. Roy appointed Fred Lambert to
‘investigate’ Fred said to Roy “I think you should know that I served with
Bernie Robson at Chelsea” Roy said “Yes and I know Bernie too, just do your
duty Fred” A few minutes later Fred appointed Baz Haddrell to assist him in
the investigation. Baz said to Fred Lambert “ I served with John Symonds at
St Mary Cray and he is a friend of mine” Fred said “That is OK Baz, I know
you will do your job - so just get on with it” That is how it was!
Roy York was a young A/Commander who had taken
over C1 when Wally Virgo was attached to the Home Office to head an inquiry
into (I think) Prison Security. York had appointed Fred Lambert to the Times
Inquiry and supported him throughout and in every way. Fred’s progress
reports went up to Roy York. What Callaghan did was to release Virgo from
his Home Office attachment, Wally returned to Scotland Yard C1 department
and took back his old position, York as an A/Commander had to step aside,
Virgo then picked a quarrel with Lambert and sacked him. Virgo then brought
in his associate Moody to replace Lambert.
This was called ‘changing horses in mid stream’
the usual way to alter the submitted (unwelcome) conclusions of the previous
investigators. So Callaghan had got his way again! The biggest winner was
Thomson who had now taken control of the Times Inquiry as Virgo had been ‘in
his pocket’ ever since the High Court ‘Belfast Telegraph ‘case a few years
previously. All Lamberts work was destroyed and the case re-investigated.
I had been informed of all these ‘dirty tricks’
as and when they occurred I decided to ‘fight back’ and commenced my own
investigations, but these were into the criminals who were destroying my
life for their own ends. I investigated Callaghan, Thomson, Virgo, Moody and
some others.
Through good friends I had access to all of
Scotland Yard’s resources and particularly the C4 records and correspondence
departments also the Special Branch Records. I also used my contacts in the
RCMP and Pinkertons in Canada. This information was to be useful to me in
the future. But not in any way then envisaged by me at that time in my life.
This information would eventually go into the
hands of the KGB who (I understand) were to make very good use of it. So it
was not ‘wasted’ I started to send some of this ‘counter-information’ back
into the Times Squad and observed some very satisfying reactions. Moody
decided that the only way I could have obtained the information that I had
acquired was by breaking into the Squad Office and his ‘safe’ within?
For ‘Security’ the investigation had already been
moved out of Scotland Yard and into rented offices in ‘Tintagel House’
nearby. Moody arranged for all the locks to be changed on all the doors and
he changed his ‘safe’.
I enjoyed that but another leak had tragic
results. I let it be known that I had discovered the true reason why the
enquiry had been changed around and that was because Moody was trying to
protect his ’bagman’ in the West End “Frankie the Barber”, Shortly
afterwards Moody had Frankie murdered. (thrown off the roof of his own block
of flats) Shame that?
Some time later I was warned that I would share
Frankie’s fate if I did not leave the country immediately. I left but with
the secret intention to return in time for my trial the following July. I
instead ended up in the hands of the KGB. The KGB had previously acquired my
‘dossier’ on Police corruption which included all the information that I had
obtained from all sources over the previous three years.
I was interrogated by the second in command of
the Internal Security unit of the Counter Intelligence Department of the
KGB’s First Directorate !
A very clever man indeed who went on to head this
unit and then retire as a General. I used to call him Nick and he was an
important part of my life for the next seven years. I do not regret one
minute of his company.
Of course I was full of my beefs about this and
that crooked policeman but I could see the sudden stir of interest when
corrupt politicians were named, I was later to be further questioned by even
more senior KGB officers and their main interest became centred around Jim
Callaghan.
These same senior people were also very
interested in Thomson of the Times. Particularly in his Criminal records in
Canada and his ‘Great Escape’ from British Justice in the Belfast Telegraph
case, courtesy of the crooked and greedy “Virgo of the Yard” I was getting
more KGB kudos for my information against these two than for all the crooked
cops in Scotland Yard put together. How does it work? It seems one bent Home
Secretary is worth one hundred bent cops? One criminal capitalist newspaper
magnate is worth how many bent cops? More or Less?
On reflection I suppose that they were right in
their values. My first KGB interrogation was in 1973. Callaghan was out of
power from 1970 to 1974. In 1975 I was invited to Moscow to celebrate the
success of my ‘Beginners Luck’ enterprise and whilst there I was invited to
‘meet some people’ at what I later learnt to be their ‘Foreign Office’ There
three men all very elegant and courteous, speaking perfect English wanted to
talk to me about the British Foreign Secretary aka Sunny Jim.
I told them all I knew and noted that they were
referring to my old notes within my ‘dossier’ They asked me if there was
anything I could add but I told them that I had written down all I knew in
1970 to1972 and I had not gained any further information since then. They
thanked me nicely.
On my return to Sofia I was met by ’Valentin’ my
handler in Bulgaria and he told me to go and smarten myself up as I was
going to meet someone very important. I had a wash and brush up and was
taken to a large building in the very centre of the best part of town. There
were UBO guards on the front door and we went up in the lift to the fourth
floor.
There was a guard on the door of the flat
opposite the lift. We went in and there waiting was the KGB General who was
the de-facto ruler of Bulgaria. The General waved his arms around a
beautiful apartment and said “Welcome to your new home John” I was very
pleased. I later found that the previous occupant, who was the leader of the
Greek Communist Party in Exile had been moved to another home to make way
for me!
Not so very long after this event I was to meet
this General (who was the Soviet Ambassador to Bulgaria) once more. I was
invited to attend the Soviet Embassy in Sofia and who should be there but
one of the ‘Diplomats’ from the Ministry of the Exterior in Moscow. The
General, the Diplomat and myself then had a conversation that still seems
surreal to me. It appeared that I was being asked to choose who should be
the next Prime Minister of Great Britain? Viz “Michael Foot or James
Callaghan? Which one would you choose?” and WHY? It seemed that they were
competing for this job (and Foot had narrowly won the first Party vote) I
went all out in support of Michael Foot of course. My father had admired
Foot (and the whole Foot family et al) and I did too but of course I hated
Callaghan, so as far as I was concerned it was ‘no contest’ in their
popularity stakes. I went home and told Nelly about this meeting.
What a fool I was. I had a lot to learn about the
‘great game of politics’ I was later told what happened next! All the
‘agents of influence,’ All the GB Communist Party agents (particularly
Scottish Communists) All the far left MP’s and everybody else instructed to
back Callaghan. He won.
The honest, decent, good-man, champion of the
poor, and of the workers, and of building a socialist paradise for all etc
….Brilliant intellect, Spell Binding Orator, Author, Leader . . .cast aside,
nay sabotaged by the great Soviet in favour of a thoroughly dishonest and
corrupt reprehensible man.
Mr ‘Sunny Jim’ Callaghan WHY? Because the KGB
knew it could exert ‘influence’ over Sunny Jim (if not recruit him outright)
It could buy him!
Whereas, poor old Michael Foot for all his far
left ideas and policies was the last sort of man the KGB would want to see
in power. He was Honest and he was a Patriot. There was no way into him.
They did not want him.
All this was first written down in 1980 in my
prison cell. I have no doubt that all I wrote was seen by the Security
Services whose private cell I was residing in. (My next door neighbour was
the sole survivor of the Iran Embassy siege) Strange men in ‘civvies’ came
and went at will and the ‘screws’ hurried to carry out their orders and
requests? Owned by SS!
I therefore assumed that this account was in
‘their’ records? I was most surprised to read some fifteen years later that
the KGB defector Oleg Gordievsky had written that Michael Foot was known to
him as a KGB agent? I could not believe my eyes. It could only be
disinformation to protect a real KGB agent politician? Such as Sunny Jim
Callaghan for example? I later heard that this disinformation was fed to
Gordievsky by his MI6 handler, which, if so, was rather a dirty trick on the
Sunday Times who had to pay out a huge sum to Michael Foot in compensation
and we all know who that ‘handler’ was? . . . . . Don’t we Mr S?
When I returned to Moscow in the Spring of 1979 I
walked into a bit of a ‘flap’ Where have you been? We expected you a week
ago? I explained that when I left Australia the temperature was +50 degrees
plus and I read that in Moscow it was +50 degrees minus (records in both
zones?) So I stopped off for a few days a couple of times to diminish the
shock .
I was told that the ‘job’ would have to be done
that night, so an hours sleep and a bath and off we go. I was going back
into the British Embassy where I last was in 1974/5. I was to use the same
old 2nd Directorate’ silly’ passport last used when courting ’Vera’ viz
Jean-Jacques Baudouin a French Canadian Professor of Organic Chemistry. Hair
Fair (blond in Passport photo) Blue eyes Height 5ft 5ins. Yes it was a
suicide trip? This is a nice way to end my career as a KGB agent? Obviously
I had to be cued in on this one! (OR tie me with rope and put me in a sack!)
I was fully briefed. It was to be a staged ‘confrontation’!
I had done confrontations before, I enjoyed them,
Extra special adrenalin surge. Nick had once come out to Africa to back me
up in a confrontation with a very senior Chinese Diplomat named Wun Hung Lo
(or similar) I had to try and give him a blackmail note “Meet us about
this…or else“! And of course there were quite a few on the mercenary side of
things.
I was told that I was selected for this task by
the ‘very top bosses’ and Mitrokhin confirms it! Andropov, Kryuchkov and
Grigorenko you could not have more ‘top’ than that? The Chairman himself,
the head of the First Directorate and the head of the Second Directorate.
The KGB Board.
Can anyone seriously believe that these three men
would convene a meeting to agree that I should try to pick up a young lady
who had quite a reputation around the currency bars, nightclubs (and men) of
Moscow.
This was a Second Directorate job (so not in
archive) and so someone in the Embassy had been compromised. (and
recruited?) His true loyalties need to be tested. I had done this before. I
will be well supported and will be able to leave the Embassy no matter what
happens. I was able!
I was to enter the Embassy ‘social club’ a sort
of basement where low level staff and their friends could socialise, Russian
staff also allowed.
An English woman would approach me and I should
socialise with her. If anyone speaks to me answer politely (as Prof
Baudouin) If anyone tries to detain/arrest me a fight will break out and I
should leave the premises. A Police car will be waiting outside to take me
away from that area.
Everything went like clockwork. I was dropped off
near the Embassy and walked up to the Police box near the gate. Two very
tasty looking cops in the box. I offered my passport, one took it but did
not open it. He winked at me and swivelled his eyes towards the Police car.
As I looked the back door flew open by itself, and then slammed itself shut.
I had seen this with the Taxi’s in Tokyo. (I could run up and dive in). Went
into club and some sort of doorman (Russian) nodded and let me in (another
on side?).
The club was just as sad as I remembered it, ‘low
level staff’ was a good description. A short plump fair haired woman
approached me and addressed me as ‘J-J’ I had seen her around over the years
that I had visited Moscow. She had been talking to a Russian man that I
recognised as the KGB son of General Grigorenko, who had often been in
‘Erica’s’ company in various currency bars and clubs This was getting
interesting?
Suddenly the internal door at the far end of the
club opened and a tall patrician looking man just stood there. The bar fell
silent and Erica took my hand in hers and turned to face the man as if to
say “Here he is”.
The tall man came straight towards us stopped an
arms reach away Put his hands behind his back, leaned back on his heels and
looked down his nose at me. A most unfriendly and insulting thing as far as
I was concerned. Only once before had that happened to me and that was when
the Assistant Commissioner came to the Police Nursing Home looked down his
nose at me and ordered me to be evicted. I could feel rage.
I raised my eyes very slowly and saw that I was
looking straight up this mans nose. As I did so the nostrils flared and I
had a flashback of Kenneth Williams flaring. As my eyes met his I saw
contempt as if to say I know who you are. So I gave him my own special ‘evil
eye’ (with evil grin) and silently replied “And I know who you are too” The
man then suddenly ‘turned his back on me ‘ and walked out of the room. One
up to him there as I had no chance to give that back. So confrontation over.
And now the worst bit THE TEST what is he going
to do next? Nothing?
Or send the Marines in to arrest me or whatever?
All the above had taken place in total silence. After the Ambassador left
the club there was a babble of conversation. It seems that was the first
time ever ANY Ambassador had entered the low level staff club. It was
unheard of.
The next hour or so was a bit of a strain, I
would rather have been enjoying a very violent punch up with the Embassy
Marines or whatever But 9pm arrived and it was time to close the club and
all to leave, which we did. It seemed the Ambassador had passed the KGB
test, and he presumably, would have failed the SIS test? I was glad that was
over!
The next thing was that the Ambassador had
suddenly disappeared? It was maybe the next day and he was gone? Had he
returned to the Foreign Office to tell them he had been compromised (This
had happened before).
No! It soon came out that the Ambassador had
returned to the UK to take over MI5? Unbelievable ? Under the circumstances?
But true.
Sunny Jim had been up to his cunning tricks
again. It seems that he suddenly realised that he was about to be defeated
and lose power! Like all corrupt Dictators, Presidents and Prime Ministers
the overpowering need must be to cover their arses, who can do that?
Your successor? Or if not, your own Secret
Service Chief ‘slipped in’ at the last moment. This is not new. It has been
standard through the ages. For example Yeltsen slipping in Putin and so on.
The ideal protector should be some person who is intimately compromised
together with you. So when and why was Howard Smith compromised? By whom and
on behalf of whom? I have always believed that Callaghan was KGB.
The truth started to come out with the arrival of
Herbert Keeble the successor to Howard Smith (The Spymaster). Keeble was a
gregarious and outgoing man (with nothing to hide) He apologised to
everybody about his Russian. It seems that he had just started his one year
Russian course in preparation for taking over the Moscow post (up to lesson
6) when Sunny Jim grabbed him by the arm to tell him that he wanted Howard
Smith back in London for a job.
Keeble went straight out and Smith came straight
back. Days later Callaghan was out, but Smith was in (just) So what about
Sir Michael Hanley who had been a very efficient and respected Director
General since 1972. Was he sacked and if so why.
Was it as brutal as the sacking of Sir Peter
Ramsbotham a couple of years earlier to make way for his idiot son-in- law
who brought disgrace and shame to that post, as did his wife (Sunny Jims
daughter Margaret).
And much else along these lines, if anyone was
interested? But no one was. I sent a resume of all this (plus the MI6 men I
had recruited) and a number of other tit-bits of information to the Director
of MI6 through my lawyer, Ben Birnberg, The reply came that they were not
interested in interviewing me and I was deposited in a special cell at
Brixton Prison. I was ‘incommunicado’ for the next eighteen months and when
I emerged ’blinking’ both Callaghan and Smith were long gone, It was
’History‘! |
