Read Undercover: The True Story of Britain's Secret Police for Free Online

blue without friends or family to vouch for them. They arrive in their late 20s or early 30s with sometimes feeble excuses for their sudden interest in politics.
    Acquiring a girlfriend was an easy way to fill the gap, making an undercover police officer seem like a real person. Having Charlotte by his side helped Lambert to douse any questions about who he really was. Although she was not the most radical campaigner, she was a recognisable face, and had been interested in animal rights issues for around two years. Lambert exploited the credibility his girlfriend had already earned. ‘One day, Bob wasn’t there,’ recalls a friend of the couple. ‘And then Bob wasthere. He was everywhere.’ There seemed no protest Lambert was not interested in. Unlike some of his more highly strung comrades, he had a relaxed charm about him.
    ‘Bob was not extreme in his language,’ says Martyn Lowe, a radical librarian. ‘He was calm, reasonable, smiling. In politics you get nutters who sort of rant and rave – he was the complete opposite to that.’ Paul Gravett, another activist, recalls Lambert as ‘an affable, nice, fun guy who knew a lot about things. He was not a cardboard activist, he had real depth to him.’ He remembers Lambert as ‘very convincing as a sort of alternative person’ who rejected the greedy individualism associated with Thatcherism , claiming instead to embrace a non-materialist lifestyle. He claimed to be into music – attending Glastonbury Festival and sharing Van Morrison albums with friends – and showed a keen interest in the left-wing literature stocked at Housmans, the radical bookshop near King’s Cross station.
    Lambert was well versed in political theory, and, according to one of his friends from the time, was ‘pretty well organised intellectually ’, able to debate the finer points of anarchist philosophy. The spy quickly developed the right patter. Adopting the doctrines of the animal rights movement, he condemned speciesism – the idea that humans have more moral rights than animals – and claimed he did not believe in keeping pets because he rejected the idea he should control an animal. In a letter he sent to a campaigner in 1986, Lambert wrote about a campaign to stop trains carrying nuclear waste through London. He called them ‘nukiller trains’ – the favoured term of derision among anti-nuclear campaigners. One another occasion, when scuffles broke out between protesters and police at a demonstration, Lambert immediately took out his camera to record what he called ‘police repression’.
    Soon Lambert was throwing himself into several different strands of political activity, becoming involved in squatting, freefestivals and anti-nuclear weapon camps. The mid-1980s were a tumultuous time in British politics as Margaret Thatcher sought to impose her will on the British people. Lambert and Charlotte were among those who resisted. ‘They were like warriors trying to fight against it all,’ recalls a friend of the couple. ‘It was a really unjust time, a really divisive time. You either made loads of money or you were living in real poverty.’ One of the big clashes took place in Wapping, east London, where the newspaper magnate Rupert Murdoch took on the print unions by sacking 6,000 workers. There were regular confrontations between police and supporters of the strike – more than 1,200 people were arrested. Lambert and Charlotte were often at the heart of the protests. The group Lambert seemed most interested in was a small, environmental group called London Greenpeace, which bore no relation to the larger campaign with the same name. London Greenpeace was a radical anti-capitalist group and Lambert quickly found his niche, speaking eloquently at meetings and writing the group’s propaganda.
    Although he made a convincing activist, Lambert was never dour. His friends considered him a great drinking companion who liked to socialise at pubs like the Rising Sun in Euston