The Spy Who - The Spy Who Sold Peace to the IRA | Threats From All Sides | 4

Episode Date: September 3, 2024

With IRA hardliners losing ground and Sinn Féin on the up, Willie Carlin’s feeling confident about his spying. But loose talk is about to put him on a kill list.Listen to The Spy Who ad-free on Wondery+ in the Wondery App, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Start your free trial by visiting wondery.com/links/the-spy-who now. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge full seasons of The Spy Who early and ad-free on Apple Podcasts or the Wondery app. Surrey, England, 1985. Brian Keenan kneels in the chapel of Swaleside Prison. He's a high-ranking member of the IRA and serving 18 years for his role in several terrorist attacks. He bows his head in prayer as a Catholic priest intones the final lines of Sunday Mass.

O God, Almighty Father, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all glory and honour is yours, for ever and ever. As the service finishes, Keenan shuffles discreetly along his pew and kneels next to another prisoner, Michael Bettany, for what is supposed to be a moment of private prayer. Bettany is a former MI5 officer,

now serving a 23-year prison sentence for trying to pass secrets to the Soviets. He's usually kept away from other prisoners, but these religious services offer a rare chance for inmates from different wings to meet. And Keenan's been using these Sunday services to forge an alliance with Bettany. He offers the fallen MI5 officer protection and favors. In return, Bettany shares secrets from the heart of British intelligence, secrets of value to the IRA. Bettany keeps his eyes ahead towards the altar and speaks to Keenan under his breath.

And suppose you boys are saying a prayer of thanks for that trial collapsing. Aye, turns out those supergrass wasn't that super after all. The supergrass they're discussing is IRA getaway driver turned RUC informer Raymond Gilmore. The trial of 35 alleged IRA terrorists

built on his testimony has just collapsed. After the judge decided Gilmore was a liar, Bettany leans closer to Keenan. Gilmore's not your only problem out there, though. I used to run an agent in Derry myself, and I reckon they're still running him out there. This gets Keenan's attention. He turns his head sharply. What do you mean? Who is this bastard? You give me his name and I'll make it worth your while in here.

His name's Willie. He lived on the water side and was working his way into Sinn Féin. He sang like a canary. Aye, well, he'll not be singing much longer when our lads are through with him. Well, send him my regards. He knew me as Ben. With that, Willie Carlin's former MI5 handler stands from his kneeling prayer position and walks towards the prison guards, waiting to escort him back to the secure wing. Behind him, Keenan's already planning to get a message to his IRA contacts in Northern Ireland. A message that will sign Willie Carlin's death warrant. From Wondery, I'm Raza Jafri, and this is The Spy Who. In the last episode, Fru agent Willie Carlin used his position in Sinn Féin

to nudge Martin McGuinness towards a political solution to the conflict in Northern Ireland. But IRA hardliners committed to the armed struggle are pushing back against the party's new embrace of British democracy. And as the movement argues over bullets and ballots, Carlin's former MI5 handler, Michael Bettany, has just put a target on his back. This is The Spy Who Sold Peace to the IRA. Episode 4. Threats from all sides. January 1985. Derry, Northern Ireland.

Willie Carlin enters the Sinn Féin offices on Cable Street. He walks over to the staircase, but another activist, Seamus, runs over and grabs his arm. You don't want to go upstairs, will you? What? I need the press releases. They've got to go out this afternoon. All right, if you have to, but make it quick.

Martin's raging. Blood's about to be spilled. Carlin heads upstairs and creeps through a deserted corridor. Behind a closed door, he can hear an enraged Martin McGuinness shouting at someone Carlin strains to pick up the details So don't bloody talk to me like that When you need to cover up your mess, all those unauthorised deaths Who do you come to? Me? That's bloody who! Carlin wants to stay and listen But the risk of being caught is too dangerous.

Carlin gathers what he needs and heads back downstairs. Seamus is waiting for him. I thought I told you to be quick. Come on, let's get the hell out of here. Who's the poor bastard getting the third degree from Martin? He's going mental. Poor bastard. That's bloody ding-a-ling Who the hell's ding-a-ling? Ivor Bell, that's who Martin's best friend and comrade from Belfast

At least he was The way things are going I doubt he'll make it back over the Glenshane Pass Carlin follows Seamus out of the building He has no idea who Ivor Bell is or what caused the raging argument he overheard but he senses that this is something he should tell the Frew about as quickly as possible

That evening, inside Ebrington Barracks Carlin sits across from one of his Frew handlers who seem extremely eager to hear his latest report. So, just to be absolutely clear, you heard McGuinness and Ivor Bell tearing each other apart? Well, yeah, that's right. Ivor Bell, but everyone calls him Ding-a-ling. It sounded like McGuinness was about to have him shot. The handler stands up from his desk. Will you give me a moment?

Carlin nods, and the handler exits the room. A moment later, he returns carrying two cans of beer and hands one to Carlin. This calls for a celebration. Carlin stares uncomprehendingly at the beer in his hands. The Fru have never offered him anything stronger than tea before. What's going on? Who the hell is this guy Dingaling? Dingaling? His surname's Bell. You get it? Dingaling? Bell? Funny name for a very unfunny man. He was the Provisional IRA's chief of staff, but what we've been hearing is that his faction are pissed off that Sinn Féin are using all the money that they want to spend on guns and bombs.

What he just told us confirms other information we've received. It means the balance of power is shifting, the political process is taking hold, and Dingaling and his gang are on the way out. February, 1985. Carlin is visiting his cousin, Evelyn McElhenney, and her husband, Doogie, at their home in Derry. They live on the Protestant side of the city.

As a member of Sinn Féin, just coming to Protestant areas can be dangerous for Carlin. But Evelyn is family, and she's asked for his help. Evelyn brings in a tray of tea and pours a cup for Carlin as she carefully broaches a delicate subject. Thanks for coming over, Willie. Have you had a chance to look into our situation? Like Carlin, Doogie is also a former British soldier. He served in the Ulster Defence Regiment, which was formed to try and maintain order in Northern Ireland. The IRA has declared an amnesty for any soldiers who leave the regiment, but Doogie and Evelyn are still scared. Doogie even thinks he might have spotted people following him. So Evelyn's asked Carlin to make inquiries with his Republican contacts to check if Doogie might be on a hit list.

Carlin tries to handle the question as delicately as he can. Well, obviously, I'm a part of Sinn Féin and can't speak for the IRA. But I have spoken to a fellow I know and he says the amnesty absolutely holds. And that he's not heard Doogie's name mentioned anywhere. And, well, he's a fellow that would know these things. Evelyn and Doogie both sigh in relief. Colin tries to give them some extra reassurance. Look, I had the same worries when I came back after the army. But honestly, the IRA wants people to leave the regiment. Killing ex-soldiers won't help that. Doogie jumps up and shakes Carlin's hand,

a broad smile breaking out across his face. Oh, Willie, we can't thank you enough. The other day when I thought those lads were following me, well, you know what can go through a man's head. This really helps put our minds at ease. Carlin shakes Doogie's hand. He remembers his own transition back to life in Derry after the army, and is happy to have helped his cousins settle back into civilian life. It's the next day, and Doogie McKillenny pulls his car to a stop on the Glenvale Estate in Derry.

His friend, riding in the passenger seat, opens the car door. Cheers for the lift, Doogie. I'll see you tomorrow. All right. See you then. Doogie turns the ignition key, ready to drive home. Suddenly, a van stops right alongside his car. Two men wearing balaclavas leap out of the van and run towards him. Doogie panics as he sees both men raising guns, pointing straight at him. He desperately fumbles for the handbrake, but it's too late. The windshield shatters in a hail of bullets,

and Doogie's lifeless body slumps forward. Carlin strides into the Sinn Féin offices on Cable Street. It's been 24 hours since Doogie was murdered, and his eyes blaze with fury. He grabs the shoulder of the IRA volunteer he had consulted about Doogie's safety and drags him to a secluded area of the office. What the bloody hell happened? I told my cousin her husband was safe because you told me he was safe. And now he's dead!

Listen, Willie, it wasn't us, I promise you. I told you honestly, we weren't after Doogie. It was the bloody Inla. Carlin's shoulders slump. He checked with his IRA contacts about Doogie, but of course they couldn't speak for the rival Republican paramilitary group, the Inla. The possibility that they might want Doogie dead had never even entered Carlin's mind. The Inla! Fucking bastards!

My cousin and my mammy are in bits. They blame me. I told them Doogie was safe. The man puts his arm around Carlin's shoulder, drawing him close and speaking with quiet urgency. Aye, well, look, Willie. We actually needed to speak to you about this. We're hearing on the streets that the UVF are raging that a former soldier was shot. They think you set him up. You're now on their hit list. You need to watch yourself, Willie. Carlin's heart sinks further. The UVF, or Ulster Volunteer Force, are a violent Protestant paramilitary group.

It's responsible for a string of murders and bombings against the Catholics. Not only does he feel the burning shame of having failed to protect his family, but now his own life is in danger. And he's caught between the IRA, his British spymasters, and the murderous paramilitaries of the UVF. To be continued... he's still trying to process Doogie's murder and the idea that his life is now under threat from the UVF Carlin snaps back into the present as a blue Ford Escort shoots onto the road at high speed and tries to overtake him

but its path is blocked by an oncoming bus forcing it to pull in behind Carlin. Carlin checks the rearview mirror, and his blood runs cold. The two men in the blue Escort are both wearing balaclavas. Carlin's military training kicks in, acting on pure instinct. He slams the accelerator and speeds away. Carlin peels away. As he whips around a bend, he hears the crack of a gunshot.

Then the thwack of a bullet slamming into the back of his car. The last doubts in his mind evaporate. The men in that car are from the UVF, and they're here to end him. He shuts out his panic and focuses on the road, adrenaline surging as he speeds out of town towards the countryside where he thinks he might be able to get away. But just as Carlin is putting distance between himself and his pursuers... He gets trapped behind a slow-moving truck. In the rear view, he sees the blue Escort gaining on him. In the oncoming lane,

he can also see another bus approaching. He waits, timing his moment. At the very last second, he slams the accelerator again, speeds out ahead of the truck, then frantically swings back into his lane, missing the oncoming bus by inches. Carlin then makes a hard right into the car park of Altmiguelvin Hospital. He stops the car, jumps out and races away on foot and crouches behind a row of nearby bushes. He waits and hides, scanning the road for the blue escort. Five minutes pass, then another five. Only after 20 minutes does the adrenaline begin to recede. Carlin's body surges with relief and the buzz of having escaped the hitmen. But while he's survived this time, he knows the UVF will strike again.

It's the next day and Carlin's in his living room, still shaken from the previous day's car chase when his thoughts are interrupted by the phone ring. Hello? Willie, it's Desi. You need to come in, now. Desi is Carlin's Fru handler. The Fru have never called him at home before, but Carlin assumes the urgency is to warn him about the UVF's threats. We're meant to meet on Wednesday anyway, aren't we? This can't wait. You need to come in right now. I mean this minute. That is an order.

The tone in Desi's voice leaves no room for argument. All right, I'm on my way. It's just over 20 minutes later and Carlin is sitting across from Desi and two other Frew officers at Ebrington Barracks. And Carlin's keen to let them know that he is already aware of the threat from the UVF. Look, if this is about the UVF, I already know. I only just got away from them yesterday. I'm going to need your help with that. Desi shares a confused glance with one of the other officers, then leans forward. This has nothing to do with the UVF. This is about the IRA. Willie, your... your cover's blown.

The Nutting Squad are on their way to Derry and they're coming for you. You should be executed within the next 24 hours. We have to extract you and your family immediately. Carlin freezes. The Nutting Squad is the IRA's internal security unit. It roots out and punishes those who collaborate with the British. Also known as the Headhunters, they are infamous for torturing and murdering anyone suspected of betraying the Republican cause.

Carlin puts his head in his hands. What happened? How do they know? I was so careful. Desi makes a gesture at the other two officers and they leave the room. As soon as they're alone, Desi pulls his chair closer to Carlin. Listen, this wasn't your fault, Willie. Now, I'll deny this if you ever repeat it, but you remember Ben, your old handler? Carlin nods, fixing Desi a quizzical look at this name from his past. Carlin saw the newspaper reports about how Ben, real name Michael Bettany,

had been sent to prison for trying to sell secrets to the KGB. Of course I remember him. What's he got to do with anything? Well, in the nick he linked up with IRA prisoners and leaked your identity to them. Apparently, Martin McGinnis refused to believe it at first, but now we know the Nutting Squad are on their way. Christ, how do you even know about this? Desi pauses for breath before answering. Again, I will deny I ever said this,

but the man who runs the Nutting Squad, the man coming to kill you right now, he works for us. It's just sheer luck he was able to give us a tip-off on this one. Carlin sits in stunned silence at the revelation that the head of the Nutting Squad, perhaps the most feared man in the entire IRA, works for British intelligence. Carlin starts to wonder how this agent maintains his cover. But Desi interrupts with renewed urgency. Listen, Willie, we don't have time for this.

You need to get home right now. You need to speak to your wife. She and the kids have the option to come with you. But if she refuses, you have to tell her that she will probably be a target herself and they will torture her for information with you. But if she refuses, you have to tell her that she will probably be a target herself, and they will torture her for information about you. At this threat to his family, Carlin becomes deadly serious. Then let's move, now. Carlin strides out of the room, frantically thinking through how his life is about to change, and how he's going to explain all this to Mary.

Half an hour later, Carlin walks through the front door of his home. Mary's sitting in the living room. Carlin walks straight to her, looks her in the eye, then delivers the words he'd hoped he would never have to say. Mary, I can't explain right now, but we have to leave. This instant. You have to go and gather the kids, pack a suitcase, and come with me. Right now.

What? What are you talking about? Christ, Mary, I'm sorry. I've gotten involved with something, something political, and now I'm a target. We're all targets. Mary's face falls as she realizes the gravity of the situation. She has witnessed enough shootings and murders amidst the troubles

to understand the dangers of their family. Her eyes filled with tears as Carlin continues. I'm serious, Mary. We need to get out of here now, all of us. Chances are this will all blow over soon, but for now we need to go. Mary wipes away her tears and looks up at him, doing her best to stay calm. Okay, okay. I'll go get the children. You get your things together here. Carlin feels his own eyes starting to tear as Mary rushes upstairs.

He knows he has just lied to her about the possibility of them returning, but he just couldn't bear to reveal the full truth of their situation. Not yet. But he knows that once they leave their home, they will never be coming back. And that before long, he will have to come clean to Mary and his family about the choices he's made. One week later, the Carlin family stands on the tarmac of RAF Aldergrove, a British Air Force base near Belfast. In front of them is the stairs leading up to Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher's ministerial jet,

which has been sent to extract them safely from Northern Ireland. For the past week, the Carlins have been held in an MI5 safe house, with no contact with the outside world. Carlin exchanges a glance with Mary. He knows that once they board the plane, they will never return home. They lock eyes, then walk together towards the plane, followed by their three children, Mark, Michael and Maria. An MI5 officer greets them as they board.

Mr Carlin, welcome aboard. Mrs Thatcher asks us to send her personal thanks for your service. The officer shakes Carlin's hand, then turns toward Mary. Ma'am, your husband is a very brave man. Mary is so stunned by the pace of events, she struggles to respond. And before she can stammer out a response, their children race down the aisle of the plane, shouting in excitement. Oh, come on, let's go. I'm getting the window seat. The Carlins follow their children, take their seats, and strap themselves in for takeoff. The plane's engines roar into life,

and the Carlins watch the green fields of Northern Ireland spread out beneath them as they rise into the clouds. As they do, Mary turns to Carlin, looks him in the eye, and asks the question he's been dreading. So, Willy, are you going to finally tell me the truth now? Carlin pauses, takes a breath, and begins to tell her the story of the secret life he has led for years. March 1985. The Carlins have now been in England for just over two weeks,

staying at an MI5 safe house in the coastal city of Brighton. They are still barely adjusting to how their lives have been upended over the past few weeks. Well, that's great. I'll ask him. Carlin listens from the next room as Mary speaks to her mother on the phone. No, we're safe. It's the first time she's been allowed to call her family since they were extracted to England. I've got to go. I'll talk to Willie about it. Love you. Carlin hears Mary hang up, and she enters the room.

How's your mammy? She's in pieces. It's all so sudden. Mary walks over and sits next to Carlin, wiping tears from her eyes before continuing. Willie, Martin McGuinness went to see her for tea. He says this was all a big misunderstanding and that if we come back, he'll personally do everything he can to make sure we're safe. He just wants to talk things over. It's good, isn't it? We could go home.

Colin sighs. He knows it's breaking his wife's heart to be torn away from her family and her home, but he has to let her know the reality of their situation. Mary, that's just a lure. He's trying to get us back so I can be taken out. It won't ever be safe there for us. Not now, not ever. I'm so sorry, Mary.

Carlin sees the tears begin to flow from Mary's eyes and has to fight back his own as he confronts the enormity of what his decisions now mean for her and their children. Two days later, Carlin and his handler, Desi, walk along Brighton's Pebble Beach on a cold spring day, both pulling their coats close against the wind. Desi wants Carlin to share his

intelligence with other British agencies, but he's just made a request that's pushed Carlin beyond his limit. I'm not talking to the bloody IUC. Working with you lot is one thing, but the IUC are just bastards. They beat me up one time. They trashed my parents' house. They're nothing but thugs. No, I won't do it. Willie, you've got to talk to them. If you want

your resettlement support from us, you need to cooperate. You know what those RUC bastards did to that wee lad, Willie Fleming? They got the SAS to shoot him with 60 bullets. They shredded him up, murdered him. He was a boy. He was 19. He used to make tea in my office. Desi sighs and comes to a stop. The two men look up. They're standing close to the wreckage of the Grand Hotel, ripped open by an IRA bomb and an attempt to assassinate Margaret Thatcher only months before. Desi turns to Carlin. Willie, you've got to let this stuff go. It'll eat you alive. You say the RUC murdered that boy,

but think of it like this. There was a tip-off. A tip-off that that kid who used to make you tea was going to kill a soldier. That tip-off saved another man's life, just like the tip-off we got that saved yours. But Desi, they didn't arrest him. The SAS executed him.

There were 60 bullets in his body. 60! Yes, that was brutal. But the SAS are soldiers. They're sent to take out targets, just like Willie Fleming. He was a soldier in the IRA, and he was sent to take out a target.

He was on his way to kill someone too and if he succeeded, there'd be a young wife on the water side grieving because her husband's dead. To that young wife, whoever gave the tip off is a hero. Desi locks eyes with Carlin. This is the dirty game we both chose to play.

This is how it works. But I promise you, the information you gave us saved a lot of people's lives. Carlin looks at his feet and kicks a pebble towards the sea. He knows that Desi is right. But the conflicting emotions coursing through him are so difficult to reconcile. Desi senses Carlin's confusion, claps him on the shoulder and tries to lighten the mood.

You know something? In Northern Ireland we give our agents numbers instead of codenames. Yours is three zero zero seven.

But in meetings we called you double oh seven. Carlin can't help but burst into laughter. Ah, piss off, Desi. You winded me up. No, it's true.

Margaret Thatcher didn't know your name, but she often asked, how's 007 getting on in London Derry? Come on, Willie. Let's head back. The two men trudge off back down the beach together, Carden completely lost in his thoughts about the past and what the future holds as the grey sea continues to beat endlessly against the shore. It's May 2001, 16 years later, and what seems like another world. Under the new political power-sharing arrangement in the province,

Martin McGuinness is now Northern Ireland's Minister of Education. And on the quiet street in a British city, Carlin is having an old friend over for a cup of tea. Out of the blue, Stephen, the pinstriped MI5 officer who used to fly in from London for important debriefs, got in touch. The two men sit in the living room as Carlin pours the tea, wondering what this character from his past wants. I thought you'd been well out of the game by now, Stephen. Well, in this line of work, one never really retires, though there is something that perhaps you can help us with. I suspected this wasn't purely a social call.

What do you have in mind? Stephen sips his tea and begins. Well, you know that Lord Savile is currently leading an inquiry into the events of Bloody Sunday. Carlin nods his head. The 1972 Bloody Sunday massacre of civil rights protesters in Derry inflamed the troubles and destroyed trust between Northern Ireland's Catholic population and the British army. And like everyone else who was involved in the Northern

Island conflict, Carlin's been closely following the Saville inquiry. Stephen continues. Everyone expects Lord Saville to find that it was the parachute regiment that ran amok that day, killing all those unarmed protesters. But there are some in the intelligence community who might be trying to sway that decision. They have an informer, codenamed Infliction, who is going to claim that it was actually Martin McGuinness who fired the first shot on Bloody Sunday. Carlin tenses in outrage.

But that's just not true. McGuinness told me so himself. And if they pin Bloody Sunday on McGuinness, it'll unravel the entire peace process. Yes, this is exactly our worry. In order to save the blushes of a few trigger-happy paras, these elements are willing to risk everything that we and many others worked so hard to achieve. And this is where you can help, Willy. What can I do? We'd like you to give evidence at the inquiry. Your testimony could be key in exposing the bullshit that this infliction character is peddling.

And you might just be able to help hold together the peace process we all fought for. Carlin pauses, completely conflicted. He knows there are still factions within what's left of the IRA that want him dead. Agreeing to give evidence would mean reminding them of his existence. But he also can't bear the thought of the perpetrators of Bloody Sunday walking free, and Northern Ireland's fragile peace process sliding back into civil war. Okay, I'll do it I'll speak to the inquiry

McGuinness should fry for some of the things he's done Just not for this Thanks, Willie You're a brave man You're doing the right thing Colin takes a deep breath And hopes that perhaps participating in this process Might just bring him a little bit of peace, a little bit of closure,

as he tries to understand what his journey from soldier to spy to exile has come to mean. Carlin testified at the Bloody Sunday inquiry, which in 2010 concluded that the British paratroopers were to blame for the massacre. Carlin's espionage work helped steer the Irish Republican movement towards a peaceful resolution of the troubles. But he would never experience that peace firsthand. Carlin lived the rest of his life under an assumed identity in Britain, unable to return to Northern Ireland due to the fear of assassination.

His marriage to Mary broke down in the early 1990s. Both his children and his sister Doreen died before he did and were buried in Northern Ireland. Carlin was unable to attend their funerals, but he did get to visit Doreen in Northern Ireland on her last birthday. Martin McGuinness became Deputy First Minister of Northern Ireland in 2007. He died at Altnagelvin Hospital in Derry in 2017. Michael Bettany, the MI5 handler Carlin knew as Ben,

was released from prison in 1998 And died from alcohol poisoning in 2018 Willie Carlin died of complications from COVID-19 in 2023 In the next episode, we learn more about Carlin And his political influence By speaking with his close personal friend Author Aaron Edwards more about Carlin and his political influence by speaking with his close personal friend, author Aaron Edwards. Apple Podcasts or the Wondery app. From Wondery, this is the final episode in our series, The Spy Who Sold Peace to the IRA.

A quick note about our dialogue. We can't know everything that was said or done behind closed doors, particularly far back in history. But our scenes are written using the best available sources. So even if a scene or conversation has been recreated for dramatic effect, it's still based on biographical research. We've used various sources to make this

series, including Thatcher's Spy by Willie Carlin, and Agents of Influence by Aaron Edwards. The Spy Who is hosted by me, Raza Jafri. Our show is produced by Vespucci with writing by Yellow Ant for Wondery. For Yellow Ant, this episode is written by J.S. Raffaele, story edited by Karen Lowe and researched by Marina Watson.

Our managing producer is Jay Priest. For Vespucci, our senior producers are Natalia Rodriguez and Philippa Geary. Our sound designer is Ivor Manley. Thomas Currie is the supervising producer. Music supervisor is Scott Velasquez for Frizz and Sing. Executive producers for Vespucci are Johnny Galvin and Daniel Turkin. Executive producer for Yellow Ant is Tristan Donovan. Our managing producer for Wondery is Rachel Sibley.

Executive producers for Wondery are Estelle Doyle, Chris Bourne, Morgan Jones and Marshall Louis.