IS THERE one law for sources close to Bertie Ahern and another for Mick McCaffrey?

Should officers of the National Bureau of Criminal Investigation haul in Michael McDowell and shake him down? Would the other 13 cabinet members be in a position to help gardai with their inquiries? If there are to be arrests over leaking classified material, it's time to round up a few suspects.

After the events of last week, we need to ascertain whether or not we are all governed by one law. If not, then the law is little more than a weapon used by those in power to beat up on turbulent inquisitors and other sundry bastards.

Last Wednesday, McCaffrey, now with this newspaper, was arrested and questioned for eight hours in Harcourt Terrace garda station in Dublin. A detective sergeant was also arrested and questioned. Both were suspected of committing an offence under the Commissions of Investigation Act 2004.

The trouble started last August when McCaffrey got a draft copy of the Birmingham report, which inquired into how an innocent man, Dean Lyons, came to be charged with the murder of two women in sheltered housing in Grangegorman. The affair was an embarrassment to the gardai, as Lyons managed to confess to details about the killings that he couldn't have known.

No member of the force has been censured or dismissed as a result of Birmingham's investigation.

On 10 August, details of the draft report were published in the Evening Herald under McCaffrey's byline. That same day, the Department of Justice made a complaint to the gardai about the leak.

The Commissions of Investigation Act is designed to conduct inquiries without the apparatus or hefty legal fees of a tribunal. It is, in effect, the Son of Tribunal. So what about the sins committed against the father?

A few weeks after McCaffrey's scoop, details of another draft report into alleged corruption were leaked. The Sunday Independent published a story that Bertie Ahern would be criticised in the forthcoming Moriarty report for signing blank cheques for Charlie Haughey. Sources close to Ahern were quoted as saying he wasn't overly worried about the finding.

'A source close to' Ahern

Where were the cops? Here was a draft report, circulated to interested parties like Bertie Ahern and Haughey's family ahead of publication, and somebody was leaking it to the papers.

Little detective work would be required for the gardai to kick off inquries. Motive and means? One person who would benefit from the leak was Ahern. Leaking it ahead of the report would take the steam out of the criticism on publication. "A source close to" Ahern was quoted. Was this the journalistic convention used by politicians to talk off the record? Or was it somebody talking on Ahern's behalf? Whoever it was, this person was involved in a conspiracy to undermine the tribunal, an instrument set up by the Oireachtas to do the will of the people.

Make a few inquiries of the taoiseach. If he refuses to co-operate, arrest him and question him under caution. We all live under the one law in this democracy, don't we?

To be fair to him, Ahern's on-the-record attitude to leaks from tribunals differs from that of sources close to him. In September, he was appalled that details of his whiparounds and dig outs in the '90s were leaked. For some reason, he and his cabinet colleagues decided the Mahon tribunal was responsible for the leak. (Detective Inspector Clifford suggests they might look to the Four Courts rather than Dublin Castle to see where a plug is required. It was Ahern himself who dragged matters to the High Court, and beyond the confined orbit of tribunal eyes. ) They couldn't shut up about the leak. It was as if they were attempting to make the leak the story.

And they succeeded. Tomorrow, two journalists from the Irish Times, including the editor, are before the High Court over the leak. And the real story, the �50,000 Ahern deposited in December 1993, dug out from a sock or a biscuit tin or somewhere, has disappeared into the ether.

Then there is the minister for justice, he who has declared that nobody is above the law. He may be able to help with inquiries into the leaking of Phil Flynn's garda file. In 2005 and 2006, details of businessman Flynn's file were leaked to the media. Flynn was raided by the Criminal Assets Bureau (CAB), which was chasing IRA bank money. Nothing was found, except a pen gun, for which Flynn was prosecuted. He had the probation act applied on a charge that smelt of a desperate grasp by the CAB to avoid total embarrassment.

But somebody leaked his file, spinning it as it poured out. Who could it be? In late 2005, McDowell declared he would leak files as he saw fit in order to, as he saw it, protect the state. The journalist who got the leak was the same one McDowell had leaked to before. As well as means, the minister had motive. He stated that he believed that IRA sleepers were all over the state, like something John Le Carre might have dreamed up.

Flynn, with his republican connections, might fit into such a Jackanory scenario.

McDowell has pointedly refused to deny that he leaked the file, which is akin to refusing to deny he committed a crime of which he might reasonably be a suspect. Even if he is entitled to the right to silence, that carry-on raises reasonable suspicions. Give the minister a tinkle, lads. He might well be able to help with inquiries.

If there isn't enough ammo there to arrest him, throw in the admitted leaking of another garda file, that of Frank Connolly. When the pressure mounted, McDowell conceded that he had leaked Connolly's file. He claimed he did so under a provision of the Official Secrets Act designed for state security. He didn't produce one shred of evidence that suggested Connolly was a threat to the state.

Take him in. Check out his story. Shake him down. That's what is done to those involved in leaking classified material, isn't it? Nobody is above the law, isn't that the line?

(Memo to the gardai: Before the video camera starts rolling, whisper to the minister that if he doesn't sing, an inference of guilt may be drawn from his silence. It's stretching things a wee bit, but if he's confused, he might buy into it. And don't give him a copy of the video or Bertie will make him play it at the next cabinet meeting. )

Good news leaking from top table

Then there is the rest of the cabinet. In 1997, a constitutional referendum reasserted the onus on ministers to keep confidential that which is discussed at cabinet. What a joke. Observe, every now and again, the good news leaking down from top table to anointed hacks, invariably painting in a positive light one of the hard-working ministers. Is this the manner in which they treat the constitution?

There is a thread running through these things.

The treatment of classified information by senior politicians is used as a tool or a weapon, depending on circumstances. McDowell's then party leader didn't think the organisation Connolly fronted, the Centre for Public Inquiry, should have a role in Irish life. Mac fired his weapon.

Sources close to Ahern saw fit to get involved in a newspaper report about a leaked tribunal draft.

The leak was a weapon in the source's hands.

At the Beef tribunal, the leaking became a tool with which to have journalist Susan O'Keeffe brought before the courts. The real story, the scandal given a wide berth by the tribunal, got buried. Ahern never had to answer proper questions on his money last year as the leak became the story. And the framing of innocent Dean Lyons has now been reduced to a demented hunt for the leaker of Birmingham's report.

A popular line at the moment is that some journalists see themselves above the law. Not so.

There is a convention about protecting sources which is as old as the hills. This dilemma is usually recognised by the courts, albeit through the back door. There are others, though, who certainly appear to see themselves as above the law when it comes to the treatment of classified material. Maybe the cops should make a few calls.