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It’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.
Weirdly the one person who is certain that the red on red briefings were nothing to do with him is Keir himself. His short term memory is shot to pieces. He can now only remember the good bits of his life. And as there currently aren’t any, he can now remember nothing at all. Each day, each hour, each minute comes as a total surprise to him. He keeps having to be reminded who McSweeney actually is and what he does. Sometimes he doesn’t even know he’s the prime minister. There again, neither do all of his cabinet. Miliband was just sure that Keir would have to sack whoever did the briefings. Keir. Meet Keir. The first man to fire himself.
Wednesday’s prime minister’s questions had done nothing to provide any real answers of who had done what to whom, so it was inevitable the crisis would rumble on for a while longer. Sure enough, the Labour party chair, Anna Turley, showed up on Robert Peston’s late night politics show. There would be a thorough investigation, she said. Keir was horrified at what had happened and wanted to get to the bottom of it. He had been paranoid enough about people plotting against him ever since Andy Burnham’s attempted coup a few months ago and he was even more paranoid now that his team was briefing against Wes. Or something.
It wasn’t immediately clear just what form this investigation would take. Other than it was an investigation committed to only discovering a version of the truth with which No 10 was happy. After all, that is the first rule of any investigation. Never announce an investigation unless you know what the findings are going to be in advance.
But Turley was adamant that no stone would be left unturned. Keir would sit down with Keir and give Keir the third degree. “You knew all about this, Keir,” said Keir. “Morgs had promised you this would make you look stronger than ever. A prime minister ready to serve for the next three years.” Keir looked blankly at Keir. “I don’t know this Keir,” said Keir. “Who is he? I’ve never heard of him.” Like all the best investigations there would then be an investigation into the investigation. There would probably even be a BBC investigation into the investigation into the investigation. That’s if the Beeb could find the time after its endless programmes and investigations into itself.
Next came reports that Starmer had had a brief phone call with Streeting to apologise. “Wes, is that you?” said Keir. “I just want to say sorry for all the things I haven’t done. I definitely did not do any of the briefings against you. I have set up an inquiry to try to find out who exactly is the prime minister. And as soon as I have an answer, I can promise you will be the first to know. Will this do?”
“Thank you, prime minister. I do understand how difficult it must be to have so many Keir doppelgangers going feral in Downing Street. It’s bad enough when there’s only one. But it’s reassuring to have a prime minister who can’t run Number 10 let alone the country. For my part, I want you to know I am definitely not plotting a coup against you. Well, no more than usual. I can’t really help myself. I’ve yet to find a world that would not be improved by having more Wes. I can’t help being ambitious. If I’m not careful, I find myself plotting against myself.”
The two men hung up, having agreed to talk to each other again soon. Which is a relief. It would be weird to have a prime minister and a health secretary who weren’t talking to themselves. Conveying messages to one another via interpretive dance is fraught with risks. Later on Thursday morning, during a visit to Liverpool, Wes was eager to draw a line under the briefings. There was no bad blood between him and Starmer. It was all something that had been dreamed up by the media. All the public was interested in was hospital waiting lists going down and that he would be the next prime minister.
On the morning media round, Ed Miliband also tried to distance himself from the psychodrama. He had just been collateral damage. Dragged into it out of paranoia. Had no one forgotten he had lost an election in 2015 he had been tipped to win? No, there was no chance of him standing for leader. And hey, it had all been so much worse in the Blair-Brown era. They really knew how to do anonymous briefings.
The last word went to Starmer. There would be severe consequences for anyone who leaked, he told reporters. He had full confidence in everyone except the people he didn’t. He was certain that no one in Downing Street had been responsible for the briefings. They had just spontaneously appeared out of the ether. It had all been divine intervention. A message from the Almighty that Keir was the best prime minister who had ever lived and would be in office for years to come. We were now due a bank holiday to give thanks to Keir and for the briefings that had never happened. That was an end to it.
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A year in Westminster: John Crace, Marina Hyde and Pippa Crerar. On Tuesday 2 December, join Crace, Hyde and Crerar as they look back with special guests at another extraordinary year, live at the Barbican in London and livestreamed globally. Book tickets here
