And Is There Honey Still For Tea? (4 page)

There is no way of knowing how many secrets Digby and those like him have passed to the Soviets, or how important those secrets were, or how many agents of ours behind the Iron Curtain have died as a result.
I feel partly responsible for the death of Viktor Stepanov, though in truth I do not feel that I could have dissuaded him from trying to seek freedom in the West. In a gesture of atonement, and because it is a subject on which the light urgently needs to shine, I publish this article. I hope that, as a result, both our Government and that of Great Britain will find it less easy to ignore the extent of this tragic history of espionage and the damage it has caused.

5

Bernard Wesley tossed Francis Hollander's article on to his desk, removed his reading glasses and placed them beside the article.

‘I have not read out the whole article, of course,' he said. ‘It goes on at some length. I left out the more arcane points of political theory which Hollander presumably intended to lend it an air of academic respectability. But I think the parts I have read are enough for our purposes today.'

He looked around his room. Ben Schroeder sat to his left at the side of his desk, notebook open, pen in hand.

In front of the desk on his left, Sir James Masefield Digby QC sat slumped in his chair. Digby was a tall man, thin and willowy in build, wearing a dark grey three-piece suit and a blue and white spotted tie. His hair was still mainly dark, but there were flecks of grey, with more prominent grey in his sideburns. His face was a handsome one, and used to wearing a confident smile. But today there was no air of confidence about him. Today, his face was lined with stress, and dark marks around the eyes suggested a prolonged lack of sleep. His shoulders sagged. He had kept his head lowered while Wesley had been reading from Hollander's article.

Sitting beside Digby, in front of the desk to Wesley's right, was Herbert Harper, senior partner of Harper Sutton & Harper, one of London's leading firms of solicitors, a firm of choice for the rich and influential in divorce and important civil cases. Harper was also dressed in a dark grey suit, but two-piece, and with a rich purple tie over his white shirt. He had been in practice for more than 40 years and was now over 67 years of age, but there had never once been so much as a rumour of impending retirement. He still had an energy which many men half his age might have envied, and he relished his work. Harper's relationship with Bernard Wesley went back many years. They knew each other well, and Harper sent much of his firm's work in the courts to Wesley's chambers. Harper's experience had accustomed him to most of the vagaries of litigation, but this was a case which disturbed him. It had implications which went far beyond the realms of any work he had done before.

Barratt Davis sat farthest from the desk on the sofa by the wall. He felt a little overawed. His work was in the criminal courts and it was a rare experience for him to mix with solicitors of Harper's eminence. On the other hand, he had the confidence which came from knowing that he might hold a key piece of the puzzle faced by the others in the room. He was aware that his expertise was one which everyone present would prefer to avoid – if it could be avoided – and he was more than content to bide his time and wait to be asked for his opinion if it became relevant. Davis was also a non-conformist in one respect and, even in this company, he was determined not to abandon his customary sartorial rebellion. His suit was a professional black, but he wore a dramatic yellow and blue tie over a dark blue shirt, and he had been gratified to see Harper's eyes open wide as they were introduced. By his side sat his assistant, Jess Farrar, dressed in a light grey two-piece suit, her hair tied back in a neat bun.

‘James would like your advice about how to proceed in this situation, Bernard,' Harper began. ‘At present he takes the view that he has no real choice in the matter. But I have advised him that we need to examine the options very carefully before committing ourselves. To begin with, I have one or two technical questions. Firstly, do our courts have jurisdiction? Secondly, if so, is Hollander judgment-proof?'

Wesley nodded. ‘I think Ben has looked at the question of jurisdiction.'

‘I have,' Ben replied. He smiled inwardly at the invitation to participate so early in the consultation. His previous experience with a Silk, Martin Hardcastle, during the Cottage murder trial, might have suggested that as junior counsel he would be allowed to open his mouth in the presence of a Silk rarely, and only when strictly necessary. Bernard Wesley's approach made a welcome change.

‘Hollander has published the article in England entirely independently of the original publication in the United States. That's quite apart from allowing the press to reproduce extracts from it. The newspapers have covered themselves by making sure to attribute every word to Hollander, but Hollander has re-issued the article here himself. I don't see any reason why the English High Court could not take jurisdiction and, if we get judgment, we can ask an American court to enforce it, if necessary. Service of process might have been a slight problem, but Hollander seems to have made that easy for us. He has gone out of his way over the weekend to advertise his arrival in England and the fact that he is staying at the Reform Club. So, service will not be a problem.'

‘I saw that in the
Sunday Times
,' Wesley said. ‘Apparently he gave a press conference on Friday evening. It is almost as though he is daring us to come and get him. I think we ought to take some note of that.'

‘As to Hollander being judgment-proof …' Ben continued.

‘This is not about money,' Digby interrupted. ‘It is about repairing the damage to my reputation.'

‘Yes, James,' Harper said, sounding a little impatient, ‘but we have been through this before. Bringing proceedings for libel in the High Court is an expensive business. It is not just a question of damages. There are the costs to consider.'

‘
The Ivy League Political Remembrancer
is an independent journal,' Ben continued. ‘As far as I can see, it is Hollander's own creation and he is in charge of it. He is described on the inside cover as the Managing Editor and Editor-in-Chief. There are one or two assistant editors, but there is no indication that they have any voice in how it is run. And it does not seem to be connected directly to Yale University.'

‘So it may be something of a pyrrhic victory,' Wesley observed. ‘We may win a judgment and an award of damages, but if Hollander has no assets to speak of, we may recover very little and be stuck with our own costs – not to mention that we might well incur further costs in trying to enforce the judgment in America.'

Wesley looked at Digby, who raised his shoulders and spread his hands out wide in a gesture of resignation.

‘I am aware of the risks,' he said. ‘But what choice do I have? If I don't sue Hollander for libel immediately, people will assume that what he says is true. They are bound to. I will have no future at the Bar, or in Society. I will be an outcast. Both I and my family will be ruined. The Queen may even take away the Baronetcy, for God's sake.'

‘On the other hand,' Harper said, ‘if you do sue him, you will be at the mercy of a jury, and you will have your whole life dissected in public. Whether you sue or not, they may still try to prosecute you in the criminal courts. And as Bernard says, even if we win, we may not even be able to cover our costs, let alone collect the damages.'

‘I am not short of cash, Herbert,' Digby said. ‘I will pay your costs, if I have to. Any damages I am awarded will go to charity in any event. This is about clearing my name.'

There was a silence for some time.

‘Barratt, I would welcome your input on the possibility of criminal prosecution,' Wesley said. ‘I am particularly concerned about whether it is likely even if James does not sue for libel.'

Barratt had allowed himself to sprawl slightly in the comfort of the sofa. He now quickly sat up straight.

‘The Attorney-General moves in mysterious ways,' he replied. ‘We have had cases recently in which you would think a prosecution is quite inevitable, but nothing is done. On the other hand, there are cases where action is taken against someone and you ask yourself why on earth they are bothering. In this particular case, I think they will prosecute if they think they have the evidence.'

‘Because …?' Wesley asked.

‘They need to reassure the public that they are doing something,' Davis replied. ‘Before Burgess and Maclean there had been no real evidence to suggest the need for prosecutions for espionage since the War. Burgess and Maclean got away. They would have gone after Philby if they thought they had the evidence, but clearly, they didn't, and they eventually lost him. But they went after Lonsdale, they went after Blake, and they went after Vassall, and they are still not sure they have cleaned the stables. They even went after the wretched Stephen Ward, poor fellow. Many people don't view the Profumo scandal as an espionage case, but I think that is naïve. The press is still talking about a fourth man. People still don't think the Security Services are secure. The Government is still under pressure. Unfortunately, James has a high profile. They will probably feel they cannot ignore him. But the good news is that they can't prosecute him without evidence.'

Wesley nodded. ‘And that's the key to it,' he said.

‘Either way,' Digby insisted, ‘I have no choice.'

‘There are always choices,' Wesley replied.

‘For God's sake, Bernard. I have already told the newspapers I intend to sue.'

‘That does not tie your hands. You can always find a reason.'

‘Not in this case. The man is accusing me of treason, of betraying my country.'

‘Yes,' Wesley agreed. ‘But on what basis? On the basis of a conversation he claims he had with some Russian chess player who has rather conveniently died, and who in any case did not provide Hollander with one single fact to corroborate what he allegedly told him. What else does he have? The fact that you went up to Trinity at about the same time as Burgess, about the same time as Philby? So did a couple of hundred other men. The fact that you may have held some left-wing views during your time as a student? My God, James, if everyone who held left-wing views at University were to be suspected of treason, we would have to spend the next hundred years prosecuting them all. Hollander himself says that it was fashionable to be left-wing at the time, because of the Spanish war and so on. I am having some difficulty in seeing why anyone would take this article seriously.'

‘People
are
taking it seriously,' Digby insisted.

‘But if that's all he has, any jury would laugh him out of court – after ordering him to pay you an enormous sum in damages.'

He turned towards Ben.

‘Would a judge even leave the question to a jury in a criminal case?'

Ben shook his head firmly. ‘Not a chance,' he replied firmly.

Wesley nodded. ‘What's your feeling, Herbert?'

‘I understand how James sees it,' Harper replied. ‘But there are always choices. Suing for libel is a natural instinctive reaction in this kind of situation, but with libel, you always have to question whether it is the right thing to do. You have to think of the cost, for one thing, as I have said. And libel is always a double-edged sword. I must admit, I am not sure what to do in this case, but I think it must be considered very carefully. We are in no danger from the statute of limitations. We need to take our time and think about it.'

Digby brought a hand down on Wesley's desk.

‘That's all very well, Herbert, but this article is out there, making the rounds here at home, as well as in America. With every day that goes by, if I do nothing, my reputation suffers more and more damage.'

‘Yes,' Wesley said. ‘I do understand your concern.'

‘Do you?' Digby stood and reached down for his briefcase, which he had placed on the floor, leaning against the leg of his chair. He put a hand inside and took out a collection of newspapers. ‘Have you seen this?
The Sunday Times
, “Leading QC may have spied for Soviets”.
The Daily Mail
, “Has this Baronet betrayed his Country?”.
The Daily Express
, “Is this the face of the Fourth Man?”. Do you want more – do you remember what
The Daily Mirror
called me?'

Wesley stood and leaned against his desk.

‘I have read every word of those articles, James, all of them. And I do understand how you feel. But allow me to tell you what is troubling me. Herbert is right about libel. It is a double-edged sword. If you win you are vindicated. On the other hand, if you lose, your reputation is damaged beyond repair, and if evidence has emerged a criminal prosecution may follow. As Barratt says, they can't prosecute without evidence, and on the basis of the materials I have been shown, I do not see any evidence.'

He paused for some seconds.

‘And that is what concerns me.'

‘I don't follow, Bernard,' Harper said.

‘I am wondering why Hollander has taken the step of publishing such a serious libel without any evidence to back it up,' Wesley replied. ‘He must have known that he was exposing himself to a potentially ruinous lawsuit; one to which Ben and I both fail to see he has any defence – unless he were able to show that what he has said is true. And if he compounds the libel by trying to justify it, the damages would generally be even greater. Not only that, he is now parading around London, virtually daring us to sue him. It doesn't make sense to me. What does he have to gain?'

‘Taking a charitable view,' Harper said, ‘it is possible that he sees himself, however misguidedly, as acting in the public interest.'

Wesley nodded. ‘Possibly. James, can you shed any light on this? What do you know about Hollander? Have you met him?'

‘I have met him several times, at this or that chess tournament,' Digby replied. ‘I have spoken to him. I have never done anything to offend him, as far as I am aware. I can't claim to know him well, but my sense of Hollander is that he is a frustrated man. He is an average chess player, who would like to be a grandmaster but knows enough to realise that he never will. So he hangs around the fringes. He speaks some Russian – because of a family connection, I believe – so he can make himself useful to American players and teams travelling abroad for tournaments, and to the American delegations to FIDE. It gives him a sense of importance that he will never have as a player.'