INTERVIEW: BRIAN PADDICK

Nee-naw, nee-naw, nee-naw. Woo, woo, woo. New Scotland Yard is at the
centre of a security alert when I arrive to meet Brian Paddick,
Britain's highest-ranking openly gay policeman. Several streets in the
area have been sealed off. Armed cops are scampering in each and every
direction. Police cars are screeching to a halt.

But all is quiet inside the office of the deputy assistant
commissioner - so deathly quiet, in fact, that you can hear a soft
thud when the 46-year-old officer places his cap on the office table.
He looks lean, mean and distant. There is no "hello", no "good
morning". He moves to stand beneath the portrait of himself on his
office wall.

In an attempt to break the ice, I say that the security alert outside
made me feel like I was trapped in an episode of The Bill. "Hmmpf."
Silence. Still struggling, I mention that we have a mutual
acquaintance. "Really?" Another silence. Is he going to sit in that
seat over there? "Probably."

Paddick is clearly not in the mood for chit-chat. The atmosphere is
made no less tense by the arrival of a PR who sits down opposite us
and begins recording our conversation. I give up trying to bond and
get down to business, asking him to explain what his new job, which he
has been doing since November, actually involves. "Well," he begins,
"I am one of two deputy assistant commissioners in the Territorial
Policing part of the Metropolitan Police. I'm responsible for policy,
performance management, major change co-ordination . . ."

He goes on in this manner for about five minutes, at the end of which
I still have no idea what his job entails. I remark that compared to
his last job - commander of the south London borough of Lambeth - his
current post sounds like a bit of a non-job. "It's a very different
job." A thin-lipped smile. "A back-office job. In Lambeth, I led over
1,000 staff. In this job, I have half a dozen people that I'm directly
responsible for." Is he happy with that? "Erm," he hums unsurely. Does
he enjoy it? "Sometimes. I would much rather be the commander in
Lambeth. But one has to be mature about these things."

A little context is probably required here. A couple of years ago,
Brian Paddick was moved out of his dream job in Lambeth after a former
lover claimed in The Mail on Sunday that the officer had smoked
cannabis. The allegations were particularly explosive because Paddick
was, at the time, leading an experiment in Lambeth which encouraged
officers to warn those caught with cannabis for personal use, instead
of arresting them.

To his dismay, Paddick was moved from Lambeth to a desk job in March
2002 while a criminal investigation was held. He was cleared of
criminal wrongdoing in October 2002 and, later, a disciplinary enquiry
also ruled there was no evidence to substantiate the
allegations.

He successfully sued The Mail on Sunday in December last year and won
substantial damages and an apology.

However, by the time he was cleared, senior posts at the Met had been
realigned and he had been promoted, so he couldn't return to his old
job. Does he think his superiors adjusted the posts and promoted him
just to keep him from returning to Lambeth? "It was a bit of a
coincidence that the commissioner ordered a review during the time
that I was under investigation." Was it deliberate? "I haven't been
able to establish whether it was deliberate or not."

He seems less than satisfied with the support he received from
Commissioner Sir John Stevens during his controversial period in
Lambeth. "Sir John Stevens is . . ." He glances at the PR. ". . . is
an accomplished politician. He has done extraordinary things in terms
of getting the Met off its knees after Macpherson." But he hasn't
answered the question: was Sir John supportive enough? A rare laugh.
"I think he could have possibly offered more support behind closed
doors." And how is his relationship with Ian Blair, the favourite to
take over as commissioner when Sir John Stevens retires next February?
"We get on exceptionally well, considering." Considering what? "Ian
and I have caused each other some anxiety in the past. But that is
behind us now." A knowing smile.

Paddick is an inscrutable mixture of reticence and frankness. It is
hard to get him to answer difficult questions, but when he does, he is
brutally honest. And the subject he is most brutally honest about is
the Metropolitan Police. This is not altogether surprising,
considering that he is, according to the Guardian, "the most
investigated senior officer in the history of the Met".

The trouble began before the cannabis experiment. When rumours started
to spread that he was gay, a female constable claimed she lost a
position with the Brixton Domestic Violence Unit because Paddick's
sexuality biased him against heterosexual women. On the day he was
promoted to commander in November 2000, an anonymous note was sent to
his bosses claiming he had misused a police vehicle.

It seems that his colleagues are out to get him. "I'm a person who
tends to provoke equal and opposite reactions," he muses. "I think the
majority of people are very supportive, but a few people hate me with
passion and, given the opportunity, will probably try to do me
damage." Why do they hate him so much? "I think it's a combination of
things. The number of people who have a problem with my sexuality is
fairly small. There is some professional jealousy, I think, and some
people disagree with what they believe to be my stance on drugs."

Ah: that cannabis experiment. Paddick's approach in Lambeth seems to have
been vindicated: his policy has been adopted, in modified form, across
London, and Home Secretary David Blunkett has announced the national
reclassification of cannabis from Class B to Class C, making arrest for
possession discretionary. But it was interesting to read recently that
Paddick himself isn't so keen on Blunkett's move. "I got into trouble for
saying that," he says. Is it true that he doesn't approve? The PR coughs
but, again, Paddick cannot resist speaking his mind: "There are
difficulties with reclassification: confusion around whether it's legal or
not, confusion around whether it's harmful, and those issues have to be
very carefully managed."

The next question is inevitable, especially as we're talking on the
day that Sir John Stevens has announced his retirement. Is Paddick
interested in the biggest job in the British police force? He draws a
deep breath. "Whilst a fairly influential member of government has
asked me whether I would consider being commissioner, it's really out
of the question for me at this time. With promotions at this sort of
level, one tends to get indications as to whether it's worth applying.
Apart from that question, I've not been given any indication. It would
be extraordinary for someone at my level to be considered."

But extraordinary things do happen. Indeed, the nature of Paddick's
replies, the way he hedges his bets and highlights his strengths,
leave me with the impression that he wants the job and is currently
testing the water. His answer to the question "Do you want to be
commissioner?" is hardly that of a man who is not going to give it a
shot. "It's an enormous undertaking," he says. "And you always have to
think about the balance between your private life and professional
life, and what sacrifices you are prepared to make."

As unlikely as it is, the timing of such a promotion would work out
very well for Paddick. He joined the Met in 1976 at the age of 18 and
in three years will be able to retire, if he wants. "Two years and
four months, actually," he inserts. "I will have done 30 years by then
and that is a significant milestone, a time when you look at what lies
in front of you. It may be that I decide to put myself forward to be
chief constable of another force. Or seek promotion within the Met. Or
do something else."

Does he think the right-wing media, which persecuted him so intensely
a few years ago, labelling him "Commander Crackpot", among many other
things, would object if he were promoted? "I don't know - it's gone
quiet actually. Reliable sources say that the editor of The Mail has
been told to leave me alone. I don't know what the right-wing think
about me, generally. It was interesting that when the commissioner had
a public disagreement with the Conservative mayoral candidate, I was
the one who was asked to act as intermediary . . ."

This reminds me of a story a year ago which said that Paddick was
considering a career in politics and had had negotiations with Labour
and the Liberal Democrats. "Yes, there was a story about that. And I
got in trouble because I didn't mention the third party. I have now
had conversations with people from all the major parties. But the
difficulty I have with politics is the problem I have generally: doing
what I'm told."

Would he like to be an MP? "There are a couple of alternatives - the
Commons or the Lords." Lord Paddick? Has a nice ring about it. But
there have also been rumours about him making a TV series. "What?" A
TV series with Channel 4, I had heard. "I'm not doing anything. Not at
the moment." That means he will be in the future? "I don't know." He
shuffles in his seat. "I've had discussions with various people in the
media about various things: making a documentary about my vision of
policing for Channel 4, for instance."

I guess he couldn't do that while still working for the Met. "My boss
at the time was somewhat put out that I might make a documentary. But
it's not something I'm currently pursuing. What I would say, simply,
is that there are lots of issues that need to be debated around
policing - sexuality, drugs, race and so on. I need to think about
finding the best way of provoking these debates. Do I make speeches
from the floor of the Commons or the Lords? Do I make a factual or
fictional TV programme? Do I write a book?" A pause. "Sounds a bit
pompous, doesn't it?"

Yes, it does. It also sounds a bit arrogant and presumptuous. But
somehow it's easy to forgive Paddick for this. Maybe it's because he
actually did a terrific job in Lambeth. Maybe it's because it's
reassuring to think that our senior police officers have some
arrogance and self-belief about them. Paddick glances at his watch and
declares it is time he got on with his day. As he ejects me with as
little warmth as he greeted me, he is overcome by an uncharacteristic
feeling of fragility. "Be gentle with me."