Youre not going to support me?
The conversation was getting out of control and it had only just begun. I drank my next large Scotch, and told him that some information had come my way. Serious information. To do with his personal financial operations.
Of course he pretended he didnt know what I meant. So I referred to the collapse of Continental and General, which he said was just bad luck, and I mentioned earlier transfers of funds to Directors nominee companies, to which he replied that there was nothing wrong with that.
I replied that technically there wasnt, but if you looked at it in conjunction with a similar case at Offshore Securities
I let that remark hang in the air, unfinished.
Duncan swallowed. Where did you get all this?
I didnt answer. But I indicated that, if he stayed in the running for PM, I would be obliged to share my knowledge with senior members of the party, the Revenue, the Fraud Squad, and so forth. Not that it would matter if its all above board, I added innocently, and Im sure it is if you say it is. But the Americans would also have to know. And Her Majesty
He took a drink and considered his position. There was nothing improper, he said. Not a very convincing denial.
Fine, I said cheerfully. If thats what you say, Ill feel free to talk about it to them all. Bring it all out in the open.
He panicked. Hang on! Financial matters can be misinterpreted. People get hold of the wrong end of the stick.
I sipped my drink and waited. It didnt take long. It transpired that, according to Duncan, he didnt really want Number Ten at all. He said hed never wanted it really. He felt the Foreign Office was a much better job in many ways. He wanted to assure me that he had only wanted Number Ten to keep Eric out. I just want to make one thing clear -- I wont support Eric! he insisted hotly.
I suggested that Eric might not get it. How would it be if you transferred all your support to someone else?
Duncan looked blank. Who?
It would be a question of finding someone who recognised your qualities. Someone whod want you to stay on as Foreign Secretary. Someone who would be discreet about Continental and General. Someone you trust. An old friend.
I thought for a moment Id overplayed it. Im an old acquaintance of Duncans but scarcely an old friend. And clearly theres no one he trusts. No one at all.
But he sat there, staring at me, and I smiled back at him, and gradually I saw it dawning upon him.
Do you mean -- you? he asked.
I pretended surprise. Me? I have absolutely no ambitions in that direction.
You do mean you, he observed quietly. He knows the code.
Perhaps I do have the killer instinct.
January 6th
Today I dispatched my other colleague and rival. Its all proving much easier than I thought.
Eric came for a drink at the House [of Commons]. This time I found I was able to come to the point much more quickly. I have tasted blood now. I certainly believe that, having killed once, its much easier for a murderer to kill again.
Anyway, I told him what I knew, roughly. He went pale and downed his Scotch. I offered him another.
Yes please, he said quietly. I need a stiff one. Actually, that doesnt seem to be his problem. I asked him if he realised that his position was serious.
Grimly, he said that he saw that only too well. And, he said, eyeing me bitterly, youre not going to help me, right?
Yes, I said.
He was confused. Yes you are or yes youre not?
Yes, I said, and hastily added: Yes Im going to help you. But not to get elected Prime Minister.
You said you were.
Really, how could he not see that things are quite different now? I patiently pointed out that my offer to help him predated my knowledge of the shady lady from Argentina. And others.
Look, Eric, as Party Chairman I have my duty. It would be a disaster for the party if you were PM and it came out. I realised that there was an unintentional innuendo there, so I hurried on. I mean, I wouldnt care to explain your private life to Her Majesty, would you?
Ill withdraw, he muttered.
About time too, I thought. If he practised withdrawal a little more often he wouldnt be in this predicament now. But I told him reassuringly that we would say no more about it. To anyone.
He thanked me nastily and snarled that he supposed that bloody Duncan would now get Number Ten.
Not if I can help it, I told him.
Who then?
I raised my glass to him, smiled and said, Cheers.
The penny dropped. And so did his lower jaw. He was staggered! You dont mean -- you? he gasped.
Again I put on my surprised face. Me? I said innocently. Our children are approaching the age when Annie and I are thinking of spending more time with each other.
He understood perfectly. You do mean you.
This is fun!
January 9th
Events are moving fast. Although Eric and Duncan are both out of the running, no one knows that but me, Humphrey and Bernard. The trouble is, although theyre out of the running, Im not yet in the running. I do need some sort of public success to swing the party my way at the crucial moment, so that the others can plausibly drop out.
My big problem remained. I was stuck with the awful Eurosausage hot potato, and somehow Ive got to pull something rather good out of the hat. Or out of the delicatessen.
But we took a big step along that path today and, I must say, to give credit where credit is due, old Humphrey was quite a help.
Apparently Maurice, the European Commissioner who landed me in this mess, was in London yesterday. And Humphrey found out that his flight was delayed and maanged to fix a brief meeting with him.
I was summoned to an urgent meeting in Humphreys inner sanctum at the Cabinet Office. The only problem was that it was all arranged at such short notice that I only got there moments before Maurice himself arrived. So I had no idea what Humphreys strategy was, or what I was to say or anything. Humphrey simply whispered to me that he hoped to persuade Maurice to solve our little sausage problem, that I was to leave the talking to Humphrey but give him support when he asked for it.
Maurice arrived all smiles. Jeem, to what do I owe zis pleasure?
Of course, I didnt know the answer to that. But Humphrey rescued me at once.
Sitting us all down in his conversation area, Humphrey began by explaining (wholly untruthfully) that I had asked him to arrange the meeting to see if he could help us with a problem. Of course, it wasnt a real lie, more a white lie really -- the whole convention of our government is that when Civil Servants think of a good idea they give the credit to the Minister. Quite right too -- we take the blame for all their mistakes, we certainly deserve the credit for their occasional good ideas!
Anyway, I nodded, and echoed that we had a problem. Maurice said of course hed help.
The problem is, said Humphrey smoothly, that the EEC is becoming very unpopular over here. He turned to me. Isnt that so, Minister?
No problem there. Yes, I said.
Maurice knows this already. And you want to restore its image? he asked.
Yes, I said, jumping the gun.
No, said Humphrey firmly.
No, I corrected myself hastily, resolving not to speak again until it was quite clear what Humphrey wanted me to say.
Humphrey continued. The problem is that the Minister feels there would be more votes -- that is, he would be better expressing the views of the British people -- by joining the attack on the EEC rather than leaping to its defence.
He looked at me. I was happy to agree with that. Furthermore, it was actually true!
I was surprised how much this threat upset Maurice. It cant have been news to him. But he seemed quite appalled. But your government is committed to support us, he expostulated, glaring at me.
I wasnt quite sure how to answer this, as I hadnt yet got Humphreys drift. But Humphrey came to the rescue again.
The Ministers point, as I understand it, is that the governments commitment is to the concept and the treaty.