A Very British Ending (Catesby Series) (31 page)

Although Stewards appealed for calm, more missiles were thrown. Squads from the 1st Battalion of the Parachute Regiment left the barricades and chased the demonstrators.

The Army maintains it opened fire only after being shot at by two snipers in flats overlooking the street. It claims that acid bombs were also thrown.

The gun battle lasted about twenty-five minutes.

Pimlico, London:
30 January 1972

Catesby turned off the radio and continued cooking his Sunday supper in silence. He had already heard about the shootings in Northern Ireland and didn’t want to hear a repeat. It was as depressing as it was horrific. He knew that the Army were under
terrible pressure in Northern Ireland, but something about the Army’s account of what had happened did not ring completely true. Regardless of who was to blame, the thing that most worried Catesby was that armed soldiers had opened fire on civilians. Northern Ireland was part of the United Kingdom – and if it could happen there, it could happen in Britain too. But no, that’s an exaggeration. It will never happen.

Catesby served up his food and stared blankly at the chicken. Violence always killed his appetite. He couldn’t get what had happened in Londonderry – or Derry as most Catholics called it – out of his mind. In his gloomiest moments, Catesby wondered if elements of the Secret State were using Northern Ireland to hone and test their dark skills. But then he completely dismissed the thought. Northern Ireland was a terrible tragedy. Had not the Army been sent there originally to protect the Catholics? Generally speaking, Catesby had a lot of sympathy for the ordinary squaddie patrolling the streets and lanes of the province. But when things went wrong, other agendas took over.

Catesby hadn’t finished eating his supper when the telephone rang. It was the Night Duty Officer and he had been summoned to an emergency meeting at Century House. Catesby said he’d be there and put the phone down.

It was worrying. From time to time there were rumours that he might be sent to Northern Ireland. He hated the prospect. Strictly speaking, Northern Ireland wasn’t SIS turf. It was part of the United Kingdom and, as such, was the responsibility of the Security Service. But Five were, reportedly, making a hash of things. They didn’t get along with the Army or RUC Special Branch.

The meeting, it seemed to Catesby, had been called as a panic measure. The DG began by announcing that all leave had been cancelled and that it was likely that a number of officers would be transferred to Northern Ireland on temporary duty.

‘There is also,’ said the DG, ‘the likelihood of IRA retaliation on the British mainland in response to what happened today. For this reason, our colleagues in the Security Service are stretched
to breaking point. It may be necessary to give them temporary support in terms of personnel and resources.

DIR P/A, who controlled Personnel and Central Registry among other departments, came in hard. ‘I would like to point out, sir, that we are also fully stretched – and there are also statutory requirements limiting our ability to operate within the UK.’

‘Those requirements would be waived in such a situation because SIS officers would be operating under the auspices of the Security Service.’

Catesby remained silent. He knew that, despite DIR P/A’s reservations, many of his colleagues were aching to be let loose on the UK mainland. As much as they enjoyed spying on Communists in Germany, Eastern Europe and the rest of the world, they were longing to have a crack at home-grown Reds – or anyone they could smear as a Red. It was, thought Catesby, a depressing and dangerous development. The Secret State was a beast best left to prowl in foreign places.

Agency News:
9 February 1972

State of Emergency Declared

The Government has just issued the following statement. It was made in the House of Commons by the Secretary of State for the Home Department (Mr Reginald Maudling).

‘Faced with the disruption of coal and electricity supplies caused by industrial action in the coal industry, the Government must take steps to discharge their responsibility to maintain essential services and to minimise the threat to the life of the community. They have therefore thought it right to advise the proclamation of an emergency under Section 1 of the Emergency Powers Act, 1920, as amended, followed by the making of regulations under Section 2.

‘The regulations will come into operation at midnight tonight. Copies will be available this afternoon. My right hon. friend will be making an announcement tomorrow about the arrangements for debating these
regulations next week. They are based on those made in 1970, with some modifications, and confer on Ministers enabling powers which they will use only to the extent that necessity requires.’

Mr Maudling was questioned by Labour Shadow Home Secretary, Shirley Williams, on ‘whether the Government have any intention of using the Armed Forces in a situation which might involve them in moving through picket lines, and whether he is aware of the considerable crisis this would bring, granted the history of the coal mining industry?’

Mr Maudling replied: ‘The Government would contemplate the use of the Armed Forces only if that were absolutely essential to maintain vital services to the nation.’

Century House, Lambeth. London:
15 February 1972

The first thing Catesby found in his inbox was an envelope addressed to him with Chinese ideograms. He guessed that was the meaning of the Chinese, for his name and title were written in English below – the sender had correctly assumed that the mail-room staff were not fluent in Mandarin. Catesby knew it wasn’t from Mao, because there wasn’t a stamp or street address on the envelope – it was internal circulation.

Catesby opened the envelope and found a greeting card featuring a multi-coloured animal with a long tail and more Chinese writing. The inside of the card had HAPPY NEW YEAR written in a largely friendly hand and was signed,
Best wishes, Paul
– in Chinese and English. Paul was head of China T Section and someone Catesby liked and trusted.

The next item in the inbox was from the SIS legal team and concerned the ‘State of Emergency’ that had been declared by the government. The legal team advised that, ‘under Section 1 of the Emergency Powers Act, 1920’, it would be ‘right and proper’ for SIS officers ‘to render all assistance possible to the Armed Forces in order to maintain vital services to the nation.’ In other words, thought Catesby, we are entitled to spy on trade unions and political activists in order to assist the Army.

Catesby put down the memo and picked up the greeting card
celebrating the Chinese lunar new year. He looked again at the stylised animal on the front of the card. It was the beginning of ‘The Year of the Rat’.

London:
15 February 1972

The letter had JJ’s name typed on it, but there was no address, stamp or postmark. It had been delivered when no one was at home. The first thing that JJ noticed when he opened the envelope was the size of the stationery. It was 8x10 rather than A4. It wasn’t definite proof, yet a strong indication that it had been written in the USA. But the fact that it had been hand-delivered in London indicated local connections. The letter itself was typewritten and bore no date, salutation or signature.

I can’t identify myself for reasons you can well appreciate. I am, however, certain that you will have a good idea of who I am. Needless to say, I am sympathetic to the causes you represent and to your concern about the present situation in the UK. My sympathy must, however, remain top secret.

There are still traitors in the service in which you were once a distinguished officer, but I am sure this will come to you as no surprise.

The most insidious traitor is Henry Bone. He was a long-term friend and protector of Kim Philby and aided and abetted his escape to the Soviet Union, but he was not the only one to do in the Secret Intelligence Service. Bone has also had a close relationship with the ‘Fourth Man’ and has been involved in art fraud, as well as spying for the Soviet Union. As you know, there was a Communist cell in 10 Downing Street during Harold Wilson’s premiership. Bone was instrumental in destroying SIS files that would have revealed Wilson as a long-term Soviet agent. Bone also destroyed and suppressed intelligence material relating to the Communist backgrounds of members of Wilson’s cabinet and the Labour Party.

Another dangerous Communist agent is William Catesby. He became a Communist while a student at Trinity College, Cambridge. When he was called up for military service, a Soviet agent in military intelligence arranged for Catesby to be assigned to the Special Operations Executive. He was later parachuted into central France where he aided and abetted the Maquis Rouge – the Communist section of the French Resistance movement. While in France, Catesby devoted much of his time helping the Maquis Rouge set up Communist cells that would remain stay in place after the German defeat. These Communist cells have remained active ever since and many of Catesby’s former Maquis Rouge comrades played an important role in organising strikes and disruption during the events of May, 1968.

In May of 1951, Catesby murdered a former German Army officer in Bremen. If Catesby is ever brought to account for this murder, he will argue that he did so because the ex-German officer was a war criminal who was about to escape justice. This is a lie. Catesby murdered the German because he was a former intelligence officer who had detailed knowledge of Catesby’s Communist activities during the war and afterwards as well. Catesby is a long-serving Communist agent. He has spent much of his career advising Communist members of the Labour Party and Communist trade union leaders on how to avoid detection by the Security Service.

As you well know, the Secret Intelligence Service has been totally penetrated by the KGB. This is why Communist spies like Catesby and Bone are allowed to prosper and how others – on the brink of exposure – have been helped to slip away.

I can also confirm that the former head of the Security Service, Roger Hollis, is a Communist spy. He was recruited by left-wing American journalist, Agnes Smedley, to whom he was very close, when he was working for British America Tobacco in Shanghai. During his time in China, Hollis also had connections with the Soviet spy, Richard Sorge.

I hope that in the near future the organisations that you represent will be in receipt of considerable financial assets in order to help in your struggle against Communism and social decay in the United Kingdom. I am sure that you will be able to use your newly acquired skills as a merchant banker to facilitate receipt of these funds and to disguise their origins.

JJ had always suspected that he had powerful allies and this letter proved it. Most of the information in the letter confirmed what JJ had long suspected. But the possibility of large financial support would be an enormous help to plans still in embryo. ROC and
POC were already set up. ROC, the Resistance Operations Committee, was an anti-Communist guerrilla force largely formed from reserve and retired officers. At the core of POC, the Psychological Operations Committee, were former members of IRD, the Information Research Department. The IRD was a secret organisation founded in 1948as a response to the ‘developing ommunist threat to the whole fabric of Western civilisation’. C The aim of IRD was to spread anti-Soviet propaganda through the news media, which included working with the CIA in supporting
Encounter
and other Mockingbird op magazines. Eventually, the IRD exceeded its original brief by using covert means to attack the British Left and the Trade Union movement through lies and distortion. JJ entirely agreed. The fight against Communism, decadence and immigration was a no-holds-barred fight to the finish

10 Downing Street:
18 February 1972

Catesby’s rise through the ranks of SIS hadn’t been meteoric, but it had been steady. He wasn’t yet a director, like Bone and the other mandarins, but he was head of his own department, the Sov Bloc T Section – a slight promotion from his former post heading up the E. Europe P Section. Catesby wasn’t a permanent member of JIC, but he was often co-opted to Joint Intelligence Committee meetings.

JIC usually met just around the corner at the Cabinet Office at 70 Whitehall, which actually was a much more stately building. Catesby didn’t know why the meeting had been changed to 10 Downing Street, for it didn’t look like the Prime Minister would be attending after all – the PM had, apparently, been summoned to a crisis meeting elsewhere. But the change pleased Catesby. He much preferred the intimacy and status of the Cabinet Room. It was, however, a bit dingy even at midday. There was so little natural light that the three brass chandeliers had been switched on. And it was eerily quiet too. The heavy doors were soundproofed and the curtains were thick velvet. All the better, thought Catesby, for bugging devices. There was a rumour that a microphone was hidden behind Gladstone’s portrait, which loomed down over Catesby. He was tempted to say, ‘Testing one, two.’ But it wouldn’t be a very tasteful joke for someone in his position.

The atmosphere was febrile and furtive owing to the ongoing crises in Britain and Northern Ireland. The JIC members formed little conspiratorial knots as they moved around the room drinking coffee or tea from bone china cups. The tones were hushed, but all the snatched conversations that Catesby picked up were about the State of Emergency – which, however, was conspicuous by its absence from the agenda. As soon as the JIC chairman entered the room, the knots began to disperse and sit down.

None of the late Victorian chairs – that Bone decried as ‘ghastly’ – had armrests except for one. The general, deputising for the Chief of Defence Staff, was about to plop himself into the chair with armrests and Catesby had to stop him. ‘I’m sorry,’ said
Catesby, ‘that chair is reserved for the Prime Minister. He’s probably not coming, but it’s best…’

‘Certainly,’ said the general moving to an armless chair, ‘one mustn’t breach etiquette.’