The prime minister’s short-term memory is shot to pieces. Just who could be behind these dastardly briefings?
I
t’s the worst game of Cluedo in town. Four players dealt a hand of cards. Without turning them over, player one makes the first guess. “Just one question. Does the suspect wear glasses?” he asks. “Yes,” replies player two. “But he doesn’t have to pay for them.”
“OK,” says player one. “It’s Keir Starmer in the Cabinet Office with the suicidal tendencies.” Yup. Keir had managed to sneak up on Keir inside No 10 and club himself to death with the lead pipe. It had been a long and agonising end. Every time Keir had shown signs of regaining consciousness, he had somehow found the strength to inflict further damage on himself. You could only admire his determination. Players two, three and four throw their cards on the table in disgust. If only they had got there first.
There’s hardly anyone in Westminster who doesn’t think that the circular firing squad in which everyone ended up badly wounded – AKA Tuesday’s extraordinary attacks on Wes Streeting, Shabana Mahmood and Ed Miliband – came with Starmer’s blessing. Morgan McSweeney, Keir’s chief of staff, may increasingly appear to have the reverse Midas touch but he’s not yet that dim. Dim enough to have come up with the idea, but with enough sense of self-preservation not to go ahead without getting his insanity signed off by his boss. Not that he will necessarily escape getting the blame. But that’s another story. Prime ministers think nothing of laying down their friends for their lives.
