talking about his possible involvement with the antiquities group that’s been set up on an international basis, to pursue the trade in looted artefacts. ISAC. You’ll recall you and I were talking about it the other day.’
Stacey blinked, then nodded. ‘Were we? Antiquities … ah, yes,’ he said vaguely. ‘Of course.’
He glanced again at Arnold, smiled, but Arnold gained the sudden impression that the vagueness was an act: it was as though Stacey wanted to impress Arnold with the fact that even though he might have discussed ISAC with Hope-Brierley, he was not really interested in such business. It was as though he suddenly wished to distance himself from the matter. ‘Well, don’t let me interrupt you. If you’ll just let me squeeze past and pick up some papers from the pile over there, I’ll let you two get on with it….’
Hope-Brierly was clearly a little unsettled as he stepped aside to allow the minister to edge past him. He appeared puzzled. Stacey picked up a pile of papers, began to riffle through them. Hope-Brierley eyed him for a moment, then sank back in to his chair, somewhat uneasily.
‘Yes, Mr Landon, as I was saying … As civil servants we all have to conform to certain regulations and if we were to support your nomination to the committee we would have to require of you the same kind of regulations on behaviour as apply generally in the Civil Service.’
‘Such as?’
‘Well, obviously, as you yourself mentioned, the Official Secrets Act will apply.’
‘I can’t imagine that will be a problem. I don’t conceive of situations , regarding the work that the Cacciatore committee will be involved in, that there’ll be any likelihood of conflict with government policies here in Whitehall.’
Hope-Brierley sniffed. His glance strayed briefly to Alan Stacey. ‘And there will be the matter of reporting procedures.’
‘How do you mean?’ Arnold asked doubtfully.
The Minister for Industry seemed to have found the paper he was looking for. But he made no attempt to leave the room. He was staring at the sheet in his hand, but Arnold had the oddfeeling that the minister was not really reading what was in front of him.
Hope-Brierley glanced at his watch surreptitiously. ‘I think I can say that in spite of certain reservations about your nomination, it’s likely that Miss Cacciatore will get her way and we will be able to accept her request. But if you do join the committee she chairs, there’s the matter of regular reports. In view of the circumstances, the fact that you are not on our list of advisers and are … shall we say … somewhat of an unknown quantity, we shall be calling for bi-weekly reports on the committee activity.’
‘Is that normal?’ Arnold queried in surprise. ‘I can understand that you would want regular reports from your representative, but bi-weekly …’
‘It need not be too formal,’ Hope-Brierley shrugged. ‘Telephone calls will suffice, with written reports only when we call for them. And this will be for a limited period only, until we are able to … cement the relationship in a manner which leaves all parties at ease….’
The civil servant’s glance seemed suddenly evasive: he looked sideways and Arnold was aware that Alan Stacey had raised his head, and was looking at the man who had commandeered his room. As Stacey realized that Arnold had caught the glance that had passed between the two men, Alan Stacey smiled. ‘It’s one of the things Ministers of the Crown themselves seem unable to overcome, Mr Landon. The inbuilt caution of officials who serve us in the departments. The demand to be kept informed at all levels, even the most trivial. It’s how the empire was built, I’m told, whenever I question the system.’ He turned to the civil servant. ‘Forgive me, James, I’m just teasing you. I would never wish to disturb the arrangements of a smooth-working system. And I’m aware I’
de trop
here. Please forgive me. I’m on my
Stacey blinked, then nodded. ‘Were we? Antiquities … ah, yes,’ he said vaguely. ‘Of course.’
He glanced again at Arnold, smiled, but Arnold gained the sudden impression that the vagueness was an act: it was as though Stacey wanted to impress Arnold with the fact that even though he might have discussed ISAC with Hope-Brierley, he was not really interested in such business. It was as though he suddenly wished to distance himself from the matter. ‘Well, don’t let me interrupt you. If you’ll just let me squeeze past and pick up some papers from the pile over there, I’ll let you two get on with it….’
Hope-Brierly was clearly a little unsettled as he stepped aside to allow the minister to edge past him. He appeared puzzled. Stacey picked up a pile of papers, began to riffle through them. Hope-Brierley eyed him for a moment, then sank back in to his chair, somewhat uneasily.
‘Yes, Mr Landon, as I was saying … As civil servants we all have to conform to certain regulations and if we were to support your nomination to the committee we would have to require of you the same kind of regulations on behaviour as apply generally in the Civil Service.’
‘Such as?’
‘Well, obviously, as you yourself mentioned, the Official Secrets Act will apply.’
‘I can’t imagine that will be a problem. I don’t conceive of situations , regarding the work that the Cacciatore committee will be involved in, that there’ll be any likelihood of conflict with government policies here in Whitehall.’
Hope-Brierley sniffed. His glance strayed briefly to Alan Stacey. ‘And there will be the matter of reporting procedures.’
‘How do you mean?’ Arnold asked doubtfully.
The Minister for Industry seemed to have found the paper he was looking for. But he made no attempt to leave the room. He was staring at the sheet in his hand, but Arnold had the oddfeeling that the minister was not really reading what was in front of him.
Hope-Brierley glanced at his watch surreptitiously. ‘I think I can say that in spite of certain reservations about your nomination, it’s likely that Miss Cacciatore will get her way and we will be able to accept her request. But if you do join the committee she chairs, there’s the matter of regular reports. In view of the circumstances, the fact that you are not on our list of advisers and are … shall we say … somewhat of an unknown quantity, we shall be calling for bi-weekly reports on the committee activity.’
‘Is that normal?’ Arnold queried in surprise. ‘I can understand that you would want regular reports from your representative, but bi-weekly …’
‘It need not be too formal,’ Hope-Brierley shrugged. ‘Telephone calls will suffice, with written reports only when we call for them. And this will be for a limited period only, until we are able to … cement the relationship in a manner which leaves all parties at ease….’
The civil servant’s glance seemed suddenly evasive: he looked sideways and Arnold was aware that Alan Stacey had raised his head, and was looking at the man who had commandeered his room. As Stacey realized that Arnold had caught the glance that had passed between the two men, Alan Stacey smiled. ‘It’s one of the things Ministers of the Crown themselves seem unable to overcome, Mr Landon. The inbuilt caution of officials who serve us in the departments. The demand to be kept informed at all levels, even the most trivial. It’s how the empire was built, I’m told, whenever I question the system.’ He turned to the civil servant. ‘Forgive me, James, I’m just teasing you. I would never wish to disturb the arrangements of a smooth-working system. And I’m aware I’
de trop
here. Please forgive me. I’m on my
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