Clots and plots

Kicked out but appealing

A RUSSIAN spymaster wishing to place a mole in the British House of Commons might find a less conspicuous place than the office of a vociferous supporter of the Kremlin. That is just one of many puzzles in the case of Katia Zatuliveter, a glamorous 25-year-old Russian woman who worked for a backbench Liberal Democrat MP, Mike Hancock, and who now, suspected of spying for Russia, faces deportation. Ms Zatuliveter denies spying and is appealing. But the home secretary, Theresa May, has ruled that her presence is not “conducive to national security”.

Mr Hancock's office might seem a perfect vantage point for snooping on Britain. His Portsmouth seat includes a naval dockyard. He is also a member of the defence select committee, which gives him access to people and information that Russia might find useful. A series of slightly surprising parliamentary questions put down in his name asked for information about Project Hydrus (a planned top-secret facility for testing new nuclear warheads) and for details of berthing places for Royal Navy submarines at home and abroad.

But is the lively Ms Zatuliveter a paid-up career spy, an opportunistic hire or just a Russian in the wrong place? She came to Britain to study at Bradford University and is thought to have met Mr Hancock while working at the Council of Europe in Strasbourg. She became a full-time assistant in his Westminster office in 2008.

One reason to doubt her spying credentials is that Ms Zatuliveter was so conspicuous. Her work, and Mr Hancock's strident defence of the Moscow authorities' foreign and domestic policies, have long been noted by hawkish observers of Russian influence in Britain. A serious espionage operation would probably rely on placing inconspicuous researchers, perhaps not with Russian passports, in less obvious places, aiming for them to make a career in British defence or security circles.

Another reason is that Ms Zatuliveter is still here. Officials from the Security Service, MI5, leaked to the media in August that they had questioned her. The public furore that ensued would have aborted any normal intelligence set-up. But she continued working for Mr Hancock, amid strenuous denials of wrongdoing by both.

Some reports say that Britain's spy-catchers were alarmed after they noted her meeting with a known Russian intelligence officer in London. Others maintain that something in her private life, possibly involving a NATO official, attracted scrutiny. Both, if true, suggest amateurism at worst, not mastery of the dark arts. Some of those convinced that Ms Zatuliveter is indeed a spy think the Russian foreign intelligence service, the SVR, recruited her only after she started working in London.

Russia's foreign ministry has described the affair caustically as “vaudeville” and a “worn-out spy plot”. Excitement over the story can “only be regarded with pity”, a statement said. The Russian press attributes the fuss to sour grapes after Russia trounced England in the contest to host the football World Cup in 2018.

British security chiefs have moaned loudly and publicly that Russian spies are targeting defence and industrial secrets, a particular challenge when intelligence resources are needed to counter the Islamist threat and growing terrorism in Northern Ireland. They find it hard to keep an eye on the many thousands of Russian students, tourists and business visitors coming to Britain, they say. But the British handling of this case does not appear to fit naturally into those bleak concerns.

Spy spats are a regular feature in Britain's tense relations with Russia. They typically involve asking (publicly or privately) for embassy-based spies to leave. Outing someone who is working undercover is highly unusual.

Ms Zatuliveter does not face prosecution. That may be because the evidence against her is flimsy, or because it is too bad (or too secret) to present in court. But spy-catchers usually prefer watching to pouncing, in hopes of finding a suspected agent's case officer or means of communication. Nailing a whole network is better than unearthing a single spy. Yet nothing along these lines has leaked to Britain's happily spy-crazed media. Perhaps there is not much to leak.