“Morning,” says Simon as I find a seat. “Quite a lot on today. Obviously we have the Milltown cemetery shooting, what’s happening there?”
“It was a suicide attempt,” says Clodagh.
“And what’s his condition?”
“The Irish News has him critically ill and the Belfast Telegraph has him dead.”
“Right. We’ll wait before calling it.”
“Who did we kill last year?” asks James.
“Lord Stanhope,” says Simon. “I had a very stern call from him.”
“And who’s this man?”
“Andrew Wheeler,” says Clodagh. “He’s a property developer.”
“Why would a property developer shoot himself in Milltown cemetery?” I ask.
Clodagh shrugs. “All we have is that he was found at the graveyard.”
“We should wait on this,” says Esther. Her tone is neutral but everyone feels chastened anyway. We don’t cover suicides, to avoid inadvertently encouraging others.
“But is it in the public’s interest to know?” asks Simon. “Does he have a paramilitary connection?”
“None of the groups have claimed him.”
“Okay,” he says. “Esther’s right, let’s hold off for now. Other stories kicking around today?”
“Another expenses scandal,” says Nicholas. “Roger Colefax was on the Today program this morning.”
“He wasn’t brilliant, it has to be said. Very equivocal about the whole thing.”
“Did he apologize?”
“No, but it looks like he’s going to resign.”
“We won’t take it today unless he does step down. Priya?”
“We’re on the Cillian Burke trial. It’s going to collapse at any minute.”
“Isn’t he on tape confessing?” asks Nicholas.
“It was covert surveillance,” says Priya. “And MI5 is refusing to reveal its methods. Their witness keeps saying he can’t answer on the grounds of national security.”
Nicholas whistles. Cillian Burke is on trial for ordering the attack in a market in Castlerock that killed twelve people. He has been a leader in the IRA since the Troubles, responsible for multiple car bombs and shootings. Now he will either be given a life sentence or be acquitted and reengage.
“There won’t be a conviction,” says Priya. “Not if MI5 won’t explain the recording.”
I doubt the security service will compromise. MI5 comes here to test new methods, to build capacity, to prepare its agents for their real fight, which is against international terror groups. We’re only their training ground.
Simon turns to me. “Tessa? What do you have on Politics this week?”
“The justice minister is coming in,” I say, and the room turns gratifyingly alert. “This will be her first interview since proposing the bill.”
“Well done,” says Esther, and the whip-round continues until it reaches sport, at which point everyone feels comfortable not listening. A few people read the newspapers on their laps while Harry says something about rugby. We’re all grateful to sport, though, since they can fill any dead space on air, they’re so used to talking about nothing.
* * *
—
After the meeting, Nicholas and I find a table in the canteen on the top floor, level with the roofs of other buildings and the dome of city hall. He says, “Right, what do we have?”
I show him the running order, though he needs very little producing. Nicholas became our political correspondent years ago. He started at the BBC in the ’90s, riding to riots on his bicycle, traipsing into fields to interview British Special Forces officers.
I like to play a game with myself of finding a political figure or statistic that Nicholas doesn’t already know. He could present tonight’s program from a ditch, probably, but we still sit together working through the questions. He reads one aloud. “Let’s be sharper here, don’t you think?”
In person, he’s kind and amiable, but he’s a brutal interviewer. “These people have quite a lot of power,” he says. “The least they can do is explain themselves.”
We keep working until Clodagh calls him. “We’ve got Helen Lucas in reception and Danny’s not back from Stormont, can you tape her interview?”
“Sure, sure,” says Nicholas, gathering his papers and coffee cup. “Tessa, we’re in good nick for tonight, aren’t we?”
“We’re grand.”