The Sexed Up Dossier | 45 Minutes From Doom | 1
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Just a warning before we begin this episode, it does contain strong language, Alice. I might not have heard some of these words before. I think I've heard you use all of them. MUSIC

Okay, Alice, it's a new series and it's my turn to choose. Yes, for good behaviour, you get the authority. Okay, you've gone for a big one. I have indeed. Arguably one of the biggest stories we're going to cover and it involves so many things. The security intelligence services, British foreign policy, war, and at its heart, a search for the truth. Basically all the makings of an incredible story. Yep, and the story starts now. It's 9.15am on the 18th of July 2003.

We're in the Oxfordshire countryside on a peaceful summer's morning. The early sun warms a golden green patchwork of fields. I know enough about this show already, Matt, to know this isn't going to stay as bucolic as this. Well, just enjoy that feeling. OK, I'll just enjoy it. For now. Birds chatter in overgrown hedgerows. A wren darts out. Then a flurried flock scatter. They sense a predator. Louise Holmes calls the dog over. Come on, Brock.

I'm really distracted by the fact that she's called Holmes and this feels like a mystery. Why does she call her dog Brock and not Watson? It's such a missed opportunity. Come on, Holmes. Brock's leaping through the undergrowth.

He stops at the foot of a tree. He barks, then bounds back to Holmes. He's found something. Holmes shouts, "Show me!" He should lead her to what he's found, but he lies down and keeps barking. "Good boy! Where is it?" Brock looks at Holmes. This isn't what he normally does on training exercises. Something's not right. She heads in the direction he'd come. Holmes is aware Brock's not following. Something's not... She stops in her tracks. She sees a man slumped against the foot of a tree.

She turns and shouts, ''Call the police!'' Holmes kicks her way through the undergrowth. She needs to get closer to see if the man needs first aid. The man's head and shoulders are up against the trunk, his legs straight out in front, right arm to the side, left arm bent back in a funny position. There's blood on his wrist. She's now within a few feet. It's the man from the police photo. She's found David Kelly, but he doesn't need first aid. David Kelly is dead.

Holmes doesn't yet know that her dog's discovery in this picturesque location will send shockwaves through the whole country. What happened in these woods will be debated, discussed and argued over for years to come, and the investigation will go right to the top of the British government. My dad works in B2B marketing. He came by my school for career day and said he was a big ROAS man. Then he told everyone how much he loved calculating his return on ad spend.

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As an Audible member, you choose one title a month to keep from their entire catalogue. New members can try Audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500. That's audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500. From Wondery, I'm Alice Levine. And I'm Matt Ford. And this is British Scandal. British Scandal.

Where we bring you the murkiest stories that ever happened on these odd little aisles. British scandals come in many shapes and sizes. Some are about money, some are about sex. They're all about power. But when we look at scandals a bit closer, they turn out to be stranger, wilder, just plain weirder than we remember. So we're journeying back to ask who's to blame for what happened. And when the dust settled, did anything really change? MUSIC

Okay, Alice, it's not a question I often ask people, but what do you remember about the run-up to the war in Iraq? King of the small talk, Matt Ford, everybody. I've actually been really intrigued to do this story because Tony Blair's time in government coincided with me becoming politically aware. So I remember really distinctly in our hometown in Nottingham where we grew up, I remember the protests, the anti-war protests. I remember the placards, Tony be liar, friends skipping school. I didn't because I was too square. It was that point in my life when I was becoming...

aware of issues I was working out where I stood in the world not to paint an inaccurate picture of me I was also chatting to boys on MSN Were you getting any replies? I'd rather not comment That's a no So little has changed Well I was even sadder than you I was working for a Labour MP I got into politics really early and was obsessed with it

And this was the issue that defined a generation. This politicised people the world over. There hasn't been a bigger foreign policy decision taken by Britain and America since. And there are so many details in this that I think people perhaps weren't aware of at the time. People may have forgotten. And it involves so many tragedies, including the death of Dr David Kelly, the UN weapons inspector. And it raises fundamental questions. Did Britain go to war on the basis of a lie? And can the public trust the government?

So here we go. This is episode one, 45 minutes from doom. It's the 19th of May, 2003, Kuwait airport. David Kelly mops his brow and looks behind at the growing queue. A border control guard is checking his paperwork. He's scowling.

Nothing good ever happens at an airport in this series. Yeah, I would say that's true of a lot of locations on this series. It's true. Airports, hotels, bars. I mean, if you're going to use this series as a guide... I'm just going to stay wrapped in cotton wool, aren't I? Well, actually, Series 3 is the Great Cotton Wool Disaster of 1975, so be very careful. Well, Kelly shares your instincts, Alice, because he knows this isn't good. It's two months after the invasion of Iraq. He's come to Kuwait to inspect suspected weapons of mass destruction.

The CIA have found some lorry trailers. They're saying they're mobile biological weapons labs. He's there to check them out. But right now, Kelly's not going anywhere. He raises his softly spoken voice to be heard over the air conditioning. Kelly tells the guard his visa's been arranged by the British government, specifically the Ministry of Defence.

The guard is confused. He studies the papers. Yeah, confused, not good. That generally means your flight was yesterday at two, not today at two. Sorry about that. Yeah, and of all the people to try and convince with a bit of bants, an Iraqi border guard is not high on the list of people that can easily be charmed. Can I just say, your hair looks fantastic like that. Get in there. Thank you, you scamp. Go on. That gun really brings out your eyes.

This guy is not a scamp. His fat finger pokes the paperwork. It states that Kelly works for the Foreign Office. Kelly tries to reassure him that he works for both the Foreign Office and the MOD. The guard's eyes narrow. He's having none of it. Kelly's heart sinks. It's been five years since he was in Iraq as UN weapons inspector, but he's never had this trouble before. Kelly musters all his negotiation training. Oh, God, he's not going to do that. Do you not know who I am? LAUGHTER

Please, no. Now, you listen here, Sonny. I work for the British government. He doesn't do that, thankfully. But he does look the guard in the eyes. He smiles, keeps his voice low and calm. The guard bangs his fist on the desk. No visa, no enter. He motions to security, and Kelly is bundled away to a secure area at the back of the airport. It's not an office, it's more like a cell. The sweat is dripping off him. The visa should have been sorted. Instead, he's about to be deported.

He won't get to inspect these trailers tomorrow. But this won't put him off. He juts out his chin. He's more determined than ever to get back to Iraq. The war has been started over weapons of mass destruction. He needs to find them or prove they weren't there.

What a day at the office. Yeah, you can either go to Coventry for HR training or you could go to RAC and try and find WMD. I've been for meetings before where the person's forgotten that it's happening or, you know, got the wrong place. He's gone to a RAC and they've been like, nah, you're not coming in. And we're at war with them. Back you go. A few days later in London, the 22nd of May, 2003.

Andrew Gilligan bustles into the bar of the Charing Cross Hotel. He checks his watch. It's quarter past four. He's late. I like this guy.

What, because he's late? Yeah, I just, I really feel an affinity with late people. And I know you're an early person, but, you know, that doesn't mean we can't get on. Being late is disrespectful. Yes, I don't, you can give me the spiel later. It drives me mad. Yes, I believe you were late today. I was, and I was decent enough to be wracked with shame about it. Anyway, back to Andrew Gilligan. Old Tardy Gilligan. Tardy Gilligan, who works for the BBC. He's the defence correspondent for Radio 4's Today programme.

He's been busy lately. Most mornings, he's on the radio reporting on the latest developments in Iraq. But there's been one story he hasn't reported on. Iraq's weapons of mass destruction. They were the government's whole reason for the war in the first place. They've invaded Iraq now, and still no one's found any. That's why he's here to meet Dr David Kelly. Kelly is a leading authority on Iraq's weapons of mass destruction. If Gilligan can glean anything from him about WMDs, it could make a splash.

Pricey, though. Yeah, London fizzy drinks. Is this a seamless advert?

Gilligan brings the conversation around to what he wants to talk about, the government's September dossier. So remind me again about the dossier. I remember it being dodgy, of course. Was it copied from Inkarta or something? So there were two dossiers. One became known as the dodgy dossier, but that's not this one. Oh, good. OK. This one was published in September 2002 and was the government making the case for the war in Iraq. And in it...

Tony Blair states, Saddam's military planning allows for some weapons of mass destruction to be ready within 45 minutes of an order to deploy them. Oh yeah, this was a massive news story. Everyone was quoting that. That's right. The Sun front page said, Brits, 45 minutes from doom. Parliament was recalled to debate it and Tony Blair made a big speech. But this isn't the same as the other...

famous dodgy dossier that was actually later printed in February 2003. That was the one with the sections cut and pasted from the internet. Can't see anything wrong with that. That's actually how I live my life. So the September dossier, that wasn't dodgy? No. Well, it depends on who you ask, but we'll come to that in a bit. So far, Gilligan's chat with Kelly has been pretty mundane. He's beginning to think this is just yet another background research chat.

Then Kelly says something interesting. Kelly tells him the dossier was transformed in the week before release. It was changed to make it sexier. OK, I have an issue with this word. I just need to know what you mean by sexier. Are we talking a roaring fire, sheepskin rug?

Furry handcuffs. Is that what you consider sexy? I've revealed too much. Well, this is politics. So sexy in politics and sexy sexy are two very different things. So true. Gilligan's very interested in what Kelly has to say. This might make a story for the Today programme.

He asks him how it was made sexier. Well, exactly. That would be my question. Imagine if he said, roaring fire. You're very smart if that's your next line. What is going on inside Downing Street? So what we're about to hear is what Gilligan says Kelly said to him, and this is contested. There's a huge debate over whether Kelly actually said this. Gilligan says he did. Obviously, there were only two of them at that meeting. Did Kelly say this to anyone else? So what we're about to hear...

is crucial to this story. It all rests on this, basically. Absolutely. According to Gilligan, this is how Kelly said the dossier was sexed up. The classic was the statement that WMD were ready for use in 45 minutes, and we believed that the source was wrong. What we thought it actually meant was that they could launch a conventional missile in 45 minutes. There was no evidence they had loaded missiles with WMD or could do anything that quickly. Gilligan blinks.

So the famous 45-minute claim that was trumpeted all over the newspapers was actually wrong. So how did this transformation happen? Now Gilligan is really interested. So Alistair Campbell, the Prime Minister, spoke to him in head of comms. If this implicates him...

then it implicates Tony Blair. So this goes to the heart of the government. Yeah, if the director of communications at Downing Street has deliberately exaggerated the case for a war, this could bring the government down. And Gilligan knows this. He's sensing that this story is within his grasp. And he asks Kelly how Campbell changed the dossier. He asks him if he made it up. No, it was real information, but it was included in the dossier against our wishes because it wasn't reliable. It was a single source and it was not reliable.

Andrew Gilligan steps out of the Charing Cross Hotel into the afternoon sunlight. It sounds like Alistair Campbell exaggerated the case for war. Gilligan knows he has a scoop on his hands. It might even make him famous. But he also knows he'll be taking on one of the most powerful figures in the government. The scoop of his career for £4.15, that's quite a bargain. That's still a rip-off for a Diet Coke and apple ties, though, isn't it? A week later, 29th May 2003, it's just before 6am at the BBC offices in central London.

Andrew Gilligan sifting through scattered notes on his desk. He's about to go on live radio and he needs to find his script. It's somewhere here. He's only got one source, but he's cleared the wording with his editor and he's good to go. If only he could find it. He starts the computer. There'll be a copy on there. He quickly checks his emails. Still no response for comment from Downing Street. The phone rings. That'll be the producer testing the phone line.

At 6.07, Gilligan scans his notes. He wishes he'd had time for a coffee. He wishes he'd prepared more. Why is he winging it? Set the alarm an hour earlier and get your notes sorted.

God, I'm a swat. It's the biggest story he's ever had. And he's going to sort of ad lib it. We've all winged live radio. Look, we've all done it hungover. But this is the biggest day of your life. Don't do it on like bullet points and post-it notes, mate. At least boot your computer up sooner. Can you imagine? I've got it. Just wait one second. Sorry, I've got the wheel of doom. One second.

You can hear BBC news anchor John Humphreys introduce him. Too late now. He's on air. This genuinely gives me anxiety. As a radio person, this makes me feel sick. So here's what Gilligan says. What we've been told by one of the senior officials in charge of drawing up that dossier was that... Gilligan's scanning his screen. He cannot find the exact wording. It's here somewhere. Actually, the government probably knew that the 45-minute figure was wrong even before it decided to put it in.

Gilligan may not be word perfect, but Humphreys is listening for once, not interrupting. Shade on Humphreys, but true. Downing Street, our source says, ordered a week before publication, ordered it to be sexed up, to be made more exciting and ordered facts to be discovered. John Humphreys thanks Gilligan and the line goes dead. Gilligan breathes out. He did a pretty good job of busking it. Did he? I mean, he was a bit all over the shop. Yeah, busking suggests guitar in a town centre, not...

precise journalistic analysis of whether the government has lied about war. I mean, he doesn't have time to think. The phone rings. Another BBC show wants him on in half an hour. There's more requests for the story. There's one from the Mail on Sunday. A tabloid like that would love a big expose on Alastair Campbell. Gilligan smiles. He's got the big story he's always wanted. Now, he just has to see how far it will take him.

It's the 29th of May 2003 in Basra, southern Iraq. Alastair Campbell stands under an awning. He's in the shade trying to stay cool. Campbell is the Prime Minister's Director of Communications. He's overseeing the Prime Minister, Tony Blair's, first visit to Iraq since the end of the war. Campbell tries not to look too tense. Just this week, US Defence Secretary Donald Rumsfeld hinted that weapons of mass destruction may never be found in Iraq.

Campbell knows the war has been deeply divisive in Britain. Statements like that from Rumsfeld aren't helping. He hopes this Basra trip will help turn things around. Campbell watches the Prime Minister. Tony Blair wears a white shirt with his sleeves rolled up. He's addressing a group of squaddies in desert fatigues. I think that when people look back at this time and this conflict, I honestly believe they will see this as one of the defining moments of our century, and you did it.

I mean, we can't move on without commenting on that TV impression. Well, I think at the end of the day, you know, you try these things out and if they work, it's great. And if not, yeah, I think the people will decide. I feel like, where did Matt go? And will he be continuing as co-host? Well, I think it's up to you, frankly, to decide. Where's the button? Apple shift Tony Blair. How do I switch it off? Just slap me around the face. I feel like that's not the last we've heard of him. Well, I can neither confirm nor deny.

Campbell sees something out the corner of his eye. His colleague from the press office, Tom Kelly, is waving. He's got his phone to his ear. He mouths, it's Downing Street. The BBC ran a story this morning saying that Number 10 put stuff in the September dossier that the intelligence services were unhappy with. Campbell scowls. This was meant to be a good news day about Iraq, not more muckraking. So at this point, he's irritated at worst. He just thinks it's more criticism.

He's got a good antenna, so he'll probably think if the BBC are making claims like this, it's not just any other stuff. He could probably sense that if this doesn't go right, it's going to be very big. A few days later, back in Downing Street, Campbell is in his office. His eyes are fixed on the newsprint of the Mail on Sunday. Gilligan's face stares back at him from the byline. Campbell's knuckles whiten as he reads, An intelligence source has named Campbell as transforming the dossier to exaggerate the case for war in Iraq. Campbell knows that this is serious stuff.

This is no longer just a general attack on the government. Campbell's going to have to fight for his reputation, for his job. If he doesn't manage to get on top of this, the British public might never trust the government again. Hey, I'm Ryan Reynolds. Recently, I asked Mint Mobile's legal team if big wireless companies are allowed to raise prices due to inflation. They said yes. And then when I asked if raising prices technically violates those onerous two-year contracts, they said, what the f*** are you talking about, you insane Hollywood a**hole?

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It's the 9th of June 2003 and David Kelly steps out of a plane at Baghdad airport. The heat hits him. He'll need to stay cool to do his job properly tomorrow. He's finally got into the country to inspect those trailers. If Kelly confirms they are biological weapons labs, the decision to go to war will turn out to have been right.

Kelly slips a cotton hanky out of his pocket and mops his brow. It's like a different time. What, because it's hot? Because he's got a hanky. Oh, I still use hankies. I mean, you are from a different time, a different generation. I'm only about three years older than you. Half an hour later, he's in a car hurtling through the ruined streets of Baghdad. Rubble lines the roads where buildings once stood. The driver waves his arms and gabbles. Kelly doesn't need an interpreter to know what he thinks.

The car slows. Armed soldiers in desert fatigues stand guard at the UN compound. The reinforced gates swing open and the car slips through. Post-war Iraq feels like a much more dangerous place. Later, Kelly's in the desert with the other members of the Iraq Survey Group. He wears a pale broad-brim hat to protect his fair skin from the blistering sun. He looks like a cricket umpire as he squats to inspect the trailers.

For some reason, doing his job, I thought he would be wearing more technical attire, not a Panama. Kind of debonair. Yeah, just because you're a weapons inspector doesn't mean you can't be chic. The trailers are metal-framed lorries without the curtain sides. They look like giant rat cages with cylindrical metal storage tanks. He needs a closer look. Kelly clambers up onto the trailer. He examines the metal tanks. There's no corrosion. Still, he inspects thoroughly, taking samples.

A younger American colleague approaches, hopeful. What do you think? Kelly knows what the guy wants to hear. Kelly has always suspected that Saddam had weapons of mass destruction of some sort too, but they need the proof. The young man waits for an answer. A shadow passes over Kelly's face. It's like the Iraqis said. They're almost certainly intended for the manufacture of hydrogen for weather balloons. They're harmless. The government's justification for war is looking even more shaky, and Kelly's just confirmed it.

The UK press will be all over this. He knows you'll have to be careful about what he says, but there's no escaping it. Iraq's weapons of mass destruction still haven't been found. Weather balloons couldn't be a more innocuous finding, could they? They make me think of hot air balloons, which I know are not the same thing, but either way, it doesn't seem menacing. Yeah, that's not a nuke. It's a big ladybird. Yeah, but it's looking at me menacingly.

Maybe he's more of a pool and palm tree kind of guy. Yeah, just go all-inclusive, Andrew. You can eat as much as you want. You'd never have to keep a receipt for £4.15 at an all-inclusive. Gilligan crests a rocky outcrop and sees what he's looking for. Puffins.

Their odd mooing call fills the air. He's always wanted to see a puffin close up. That beautiful, broad, orange beak. Gilligan narrows his eyes and focuses his binoculars. He knows he has to relax and stop obsessing about Campbell. You won't see a puffin if you obsess about Campbell. They're repelled by that. They can sense it. This is like being with David Attenborough. Why does he never cover this on Blue Planet? LAUGHTER

When Gilligan gets back to the hotel, he checks his email. There's a message from his boss at the BBC. They've seen his article in the Mail on Sunday. His boss is irritated. Tone down your attitude to Campbell. The BBC are publicly funded. We're supposed to be impartial. Another email comes through. It's from the clerk of the Foreign Affairs Committee. They're calling him in to give evidence. Surely if Parliament wants him to talk, he can't refuse. This gives him a platform to hammer home his case against Campbell.

This may seem like an obvious question. What exactly is the Foreign Affairs Committee and what does it do? So for every government department you have, education, health, the Home Office, the Foreign Office, Parliament has a cross-party group of MPs that scrutinises the work of that department. And you'll have seen them on TV. Rupert Murdoch appeared in front of a parliamentary select committee and got a custard pie in the face. Yes, I do remember that. We all enjoyed it. It's the 19th of June, 2003.

Big Ben chimes as Andrew Gilligan takes his seat in front of the Foreign Affairs Committee. The committee sit in a crescent before him in a wood-panelled room. Gilligan knows he needs to play his evidence carefully. He wants to make his point, but he doesn't want to lose his livelihood. Gilligan shifts uneasily on his dark green leather seat. They ask him if he has more than one source. He answers that the Today programme story came from a single source, but he won't name them. They try a different tack.

Was it someone from Number 10 or someone on the JIC? JIC, sorry, quick one, remind me. That's the heads of all the intelligence services, basically. Gilligan refuses to give any more details. The committee keep pushing, but he won't budge. He won't name his source. As the session comes to a close, he can see the committee members share sideways glances. His stonewalling is irritating them. But Gilligan knows if he were to publicly reveal that it was David Kelly, it would be career suicide. But then he has a thought.

It could be convenient if his saucer's name came out. Kelly would then have to tell the world what he told Gilligan. Heads would roll and Campbell would be out of a job. It's the 25th of June 2003. The Foreign Affairs Committee members take their seats as Alistair Campbell arranges his files on the desk. He's there to give his side of the Gilligan story. The chairman reads out the accusation.

You embellish the evidence to the point of misleading Parliament and the public as a vital time relating to peace and war. Today has to be Campbell's finest performance. His whole career depends on it. But it's not just him. The future of Tony Blair's government is riding on it. The committee asked Campbell if the government knew that Iraq was not a threat. Campbell bats away their questions. Not to my knowledge. I really do think that is a question for the intelligence agencies.

His position is clear. He didn't exaggerate. It's his word against Gilligan's anonymous source. But even so, Campbell knows the whole story smells bad. All his experience as a spin doctor tells him he can't just deny it. He has to change the story. That's the thing, isn't it? It's already out there. No matter what happens in the future, it's already a problem right now. The story is massive. As the hearing is nearly over, he seizes the opportunity.

Gilligan didn't check his facts. He didn't find another source to confirm it. Now that goes against journalistic ethics. I find it incredible, and I mean incredible, that people can report based on a single uncorroborated source that the Prime Minister, the Cabinet, the intelligence agencies, people like myself, connived to persuade Parliament to send British forces into action on a lie. That is the allegation. I tell you, until the BBC acknowledge that is a lie,

He thumps his fist on the desk. The file of papers shudders. I will keep banging on. That correspondence file will get thicker and they had better issue an apology pretty quickly. Campbell sits back. He's got off the back foot. Hopefully, he's put some pressure back on Gilligan and the BBC. But he knows demanding an apology is one thing. To really up the ante, he needs to find out who's been talking to Gilligan. Then he can put a stop to this story once and for all.

Knowing what we know now, that is so sinister. I think that's what's really difficult about this is what would you do at the time if you knew what the full implications of it were? You can fully understand why he's frustrated and he wants to find this out. But when you look back over it, you go, oh God, the consequences of that were so dire. It's the 27th of June and we're at the BBC Television Centre, you know, where they used to film live in Kicking. Oh yeah, top of the pops. International listeners won't know what we're talking about. Beautiful place.

BBC bosses gather on the fifth floor of the famous circular building. Greg Dyke stands staring out of the window. Dyke is the Director General at the BBC and today he's got a bit of a problem. The Gilligan story just won't go away. Now Alastair Campbell is demanding an apology.

Dyke is proud of the BBC's reputation for fair and impartial journalism. This round with the government could damage it. He needs to get to the bottom of it fast. This is the other side of the issue and the scandal because, of course, it's having massive impacts for the government and massive impacts for another institution, which is the BBC. Andrew Gilligan hurries into the room, looking a little anxious. Greg Dyke takes off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves. He looks like he's readying for a fight.

BBC's top management take their seats and the meeting begins. Dyke fixes on Gilligan. Does he stand by every word of the Today programme report? Gilligan swallows hard. Yes, he does, he says. Dyke weighs up Gilligan. Is he telling the truth? He walks towards him. Are you sure your source used the term sexed up? Gilligan says yes.

Dyke continues. And the bit saying that the government probably knew the 45-minute claim was wrong before it decided to put it in the dossier. Gilligan nods. Yes. Dyke is looming over Gilligan now. You'd better be fucking right. All right, Dyke. Choose that master kiss your mum. I hope he doesn't talk to his mum like this. Dyke turns to the rest of BBC management. His face is serious. He'd better be fucking right. That's second strike. Pound in the jar.

Dyke sits down at the nearest computer and starts to type. This is his fight now. The BBC is meant to be independent of government. He doesn't want to be seen to be backing down, especially not to Alistair Campbell. He's going to stop it. If you're Gilligan, you're thinking, thank God the big guns are backing me. Because you can imagine they'd be like, sorry mate, it's a big doozy this. What we'll do, week's pay, cheese sandwich, get on your way. Look, it's not you, it's us. But no hard feelings. All right, lock the door. Lock the door.

David Kelly is on the train from Oxford to Paddington. The Gilligan story has been everywhere for weeks. He's been constantly on edge, waiting for the phone call that outs him as the source. So to calm himself down, he's trying to meditate. He converted to the Baha'i faith about five years before, in Iraq. David Kelly doesn't attend prayer groups anymore, but he still prays every day and reads the Quran. Today he needs to pray. He has a big decision to make. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply. The train judders to a halt, breaking his concentration. David Kelly is on the train from Oxford to Paddington.

The train guard speaks over the tannoy. They could be here for a while. He can't stop negative thoughts flooding into his mind. He needs a distraction. There's a copy of a newspaper on the table opposite. That'll do. He reaches over. He flicks through, glancing at the photos. On the letters page, something catches his eye. A letter from the BBC to Alastair Campbell.

Kelly doesn't want to read, but he can't help himself. The letter says, Andrew Gilligan accurately reported the source telling him that the government probably knew that the 45-minute figure was wrong. Accurately reported. He never imagined that drink with Gilligan would come to this. An apple ties of all things. An hour later in the Ministry of Defence Whitehall, Kelly walks along the second floor corridor. He's heading towards the office he shares with two other MOD officials. Today, he wants to disappear into it.

but he knows he can't keep his head down forever. Sooner or later, it'll come out. He needs to do something. At this point, it's kind of mad to think that at one time he thought he'd remain anonymous. Yeah, he may well have done. He sits down at his desk and begins typing. He's writing a letter to his boss, Brian Wells. Yes, he did meet Gilligan, but that's not the whole story. His memory of the meeting is different to what's been reported.

Kelly jabs at the keyboard. I can only conclude one of three things. Gilligan has considerably embellished my meeting with him, he has met with other individuals who truly were intimately associated with the dossier, or he has assembled comments from both multiple direct and indirect sources for his articles. Kelly prints it out. His pen hovers over the paper, something stopping him from signing. A deep, nagging doubt. Once this comes out, he'll be at the centre of the storm. All he can do then is ride it out.

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He's been a nightmare at home lately. He knows this because his partner Fiona has told him so. Good on you, Fiona. You've been a nightmare! That's a healthy relationship. You're driving me mad. Go for a run. You really looked at me when you said that. He's juggling so much. Briefing journalists, writing reports, meeting ministers, drafting letters for the Prime Minister, firing off emails to the BBC, taking his kids to football...

Campbell shouldn't be running in this heat. His pale T-shirt is soaked through with sweat and clings to his body. What kind of show is this? This has taken a turn. Yeah, is that an image that you like? You want more of that? That would be a niche podcast, I think. This is more like my day job.

The phone in his running belt vibrates. He slows down as he searches for it. It's important not to stop completely. He must keep going. It's Geoff Hoon, Defence Secretary. Keep moving and cool down. "Allister?" Campbell tells him he's out running. Hoon says he'll be quick. "A man's come forward who met Gilligan." Campbell is shocked. "Who does he work for?" Hoon tells him. "The Foreign Office, but the MOD pays wages."

Campbell's brain is whirring. The source isn't from the Joint Intelligence Committee. He isn't as senior as he'd thought. This is better than he could have hoped. Hoon sounds unsure. Is he definitely Gilligan's man? Campbell sees an opening.

If this person is the source and he's contradicting the story, then that would discredit Gilligan. This time, it would be Gilligan who is embellishing the evidence and not him. A classic switcheroo. We have a classic switcheroo every series. You really like them, don't you? I love a switcheroo. There, I said it. It's on record. Sue me. It's the next day. Campbell faces another meeting about Gilligan's source. The Prime Minister is there, the head of the JIC, the MOD. There's a problem.

They now know who Gilligan's source is, but what do they do now? Do they release his name? If they do, it'll help discredit Gilligan's story. But it's not the done thing to release a government employee's name to the press. No one's ever done it before. Yeah, they'd really be throwing him under the bus. It's a very difficult situation because their integrity is being called into question and they feel they need to defend themselves.

Eventually they get to a compromise. If a journalist can guess the saucer's name correctly, the press office will confirm it. I know this is serious, but this sounds like a joke. If you can guess his name, we'll confirm it. Is this a phone-in on a radio station? Guess the mystery saucer's name when a holiday in Spain. Andrew Gilligan is nowhere near. Alice, you're in play. Game show banter of a particular vintage there. Campbell looks around the room. Everyone seems happy.

It's only a matter of time before Kelly's name is out. When it is, Campbell hopes his narrative will stick. He didn't sex up the dossier. It was Gilligan who did the sexing up of the report. The naming of Kelly will be Campbell's knockout blow in his battle with the BBC. That evening, Janice and David Kelly are having dinner. Janice is chatting about the local history group. David's pretending to listen as he pushes his salad around the plate.

He really should eat. He should just tell Janice about what's going on at work. There's talk of disciplinary action against him. He hasn't told her yet. He just needs to find the right time. How do you even broach that? It's just so big. Janice notices he's preoccupied. He's been preoccupied a lot lately. After dinner, she goes through to the lounge and switches on the TV. David, the news is on. He usually likes watching the news. David?

The newsreader announces... An individual in the MOD has come forward to volunteer that he met Andrew Gilligan of the BBC on May 22nd. Kelly feels himself shrink as he walks into the room. He'll be for the chop, says Janice. Oh, God. Kelly sits down beside his wife. It's me. Janice laughs. Don't be ridiculous. Jan, they're talking about me. Her face falls. I've had a bit of a reprimand at work. The reality starts to filter...

What does it mean? Kelly hesitates. He can't bring himself to tell her. Janice starts to panic, guessing the worst. Would it mean a pension problem? Would it mean you having to leave your job? He takes a deep breath. If it gets worse, yes. Janice is stunned, her face suddenly grey. Kelly cannot bear to see his wife like this. Her eyes stare ahead. She sees their whole future, their comfortable retirement slipping away. He cannot let this happen.

This really gets you into that mindset because, of course, you can't conceive of the scope of this. You're thinking about pensions and jobs and getting another job. And this is just colossal. And it's just the sadness of a guy. And it's so tragic. Just the sadness of a guy not wanting to upset his wife. It's the 9th of July, 2003. The next day, James Blitz is on the phone to the Downing Street press office.

He's a reporter for the Financial Times. He's been following the row for weeks. But now, Gilligan's source has come forward. He knows every news outlet is racing to find their name, and he wants to be first. Blitz clasps his phone between his shoulder and ear. In his hands, a notebook and pen poised at the ready. Downing Street Press Office, how may I help?

Blitz asks about the man's job. He doesn't expect much from the press office, but he has to start somewhere. We can say as a technical expert currently working for the MOD that his salary is paid by another department. This is strange. Why are they being so helpful? Blitz scores through two of the names on the list. Listen, we wouldn't normally volunteer a name, but if the correct name is given, we can confirm it and say that he's a senior advisor to the Proliferation and Arms Control Secretariat.

Blitz is shocked. He's been working as a journalist for years and he's never experienced anything like this. He scans down his list. There's only three names left. He reads out the first. No, sorry, that's not the name. Blitz looks to the next name on the list. Is it Dr David Kelly? There's a sharp intake of breath from the press officer.

Yep, you've guessed it correctly. This is so surreal. This is not how officials deal with potentially inflammatory information. You can see how they got there. They've gone, right, well, if someone asks, we don't want to lie, so we tell the truth. It's the use of guess, though, isn't it? Go on, have a guess. Go on. You've been lucky so far. You did well on general knowledge. OK, next round. UN weapons inspectors who've been briefing the BBC. Andrew, we're looking at you. You've got the speedboat. You're going home with that.

Blitz cannot believe his luck. This is one hell of an exclusive. He needs to file his copy quickly. David Kelly's name will be out there. Then the world will find out whether the government did exaggerate the case for war. Half an hour later, at about 7.30pm, David Kelly is in his garden, gathering his tools into his wheelbarrow. He needs time to think. The Ministry of Defence has just been on the phone. They're saying his name will be in the papers tomorrow.

Kelly glances over his shoulder. Janice is watering the plants at the far side of the garden. He hasn't worked out what to say to her. He doesn't want her upset. He spots a figure at the gate. It's Nick Rufford. Nick's a reporter for the Sunday Times. Kelly's surprised. He's never had a journalist turn up at his door unannounced. Ever. Kelly heads towards the gate. He tells Rufford his name's out. Rufford's face falls. Kelly can see he's disappointed. Someone's beaten him to the scoop.

What's likely to happen next? The press will be all over this place in half an hour. Kelly's shocked. This is his home. Rufford is surprised the government's press office didn't explain. Is the department sending anybody down to be with you? Kelly says no. This is unbelievable. You would be so scared. Rufford looks shocked. Did the MOD suggest going to stay with friends or moving into a hotel? They've just abandoned him. There's an awkward silence. Kelly can see Rufford wants to say something. It's then that he offers to help.

We could put you up in a hotel till all this dies down. You'd get the chance to tell your side of the story in full. Oh, that's cold, isn't it? It's so transactional. Yeah, I'll help you out, mate, if you can tell me everything that's going on and give me a major global exclusive. Kelly stares at him. This is a man he considered a friend. Now he's just a story to him. How naive has he been? Goodbye, Nick. And with that, Kelly turns away. He hears Rufford shout after him. They should be looking after you, David.

Kelly walks towards Janice. She's holding a basket of roses in one hand and her secateurs in the other. "Was that Nick Rufford? What did he want?" They've given my name to the press. She looks at David. "We need to start packing."

This is the first episode in our series, The Sexed Up Dossier. In the episode notes, you'll find some links and offers from our sponsors. Please support them. By supporting them, you help us offer you this show for free. Another way to support us is to answer a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. A quick note about our dialogue. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but all our dramatizations are based on historical research. I'm Alice Levine. And I'm Matt Ford. Fiona Evans wrote this episode. Additional writing by Alice Levine and Matt Ford. Our

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