GRAHAM GRANT: Of course the Murrell saga is the story of one man's crimes - but the shockwaves go far beyond his jail cell

By GRAHAM GRANT, SCOTTISH HOME AFFAIRS EDITOR Published: 21:06, 1 June 2026 | Updated: 21:09, 1 June 2026 In The Wizard of Oz, the all-powerful magician is shown to be an old man hiding behind a curtain. Similarly, Peter Murrell was the éminence grise and electoral mastermind credited with a string of SNP triumphs. Yet now, much like the wizard Oscar Diggs in L. Frank Baum’s classic tale, he’s exposed as a pathetic confidence trickster. The First Husband was really a bespectacled, innocuous-looking middle-aged man bulk-buying loo roll while blowing other people’s cash. Meanwhile, his now-estranged wife was grilled by Laura Kuenssberg in an interview designed to draw a line under Murrellgate. It was a stunningly ill-conceived chat, with Nicola Sturgeon’s lawyer, Aamer Anwar, spotted lurking in the shadows behind her. Much like Emily Maitlis’s infamous encounter with the former Prince Andrew, there were many more questions than answers. Among the lines that will haunt Ms Sturgeon is the claim that she had no ‘conscious memory’ of seeing a £124,000 campervan in her mother-in-law’s drive – a 24ft vehicle that was visible from space for at least two years. Former SNP chief executive Peter Murrell arriving at the High Court in Edinburgh last week  It was a product of Murrell’s 12-year embezzlement of more than £400,000 of SNP funds, a crime he admitted after a five-year police probe costing taxpayers more than £2million. While Ms Sturgeon insists she had no knowledge of her husband’s crime spree, the court of public opinion has already handed down its verdict. A poll at the weekend showed only one in five Scots accepted that she knew nothing – perhaps the only surprise is that the figure was quite so high. Ms Sturgeon once claimed she championed openness and transparency – but she has been transformed from a leader with celebrity status to a national joke. What lies ahead now for a former political heavyweight who could fill stadia in her heyday with crowds of admiring fans? It’s unlikely she’ll be rushing to visit Murrell, though she admitted – with some understatement – that he’s probably not ‘having the time of his life’ in jail as he awaits sentencing later this month. Mind you, he might well be a popular lag, dishing out advice on fraud to gangster cellmates – well, he did get away with it for more than a decade. He’ll be a pound-shop hybrid of Bernie Madoff, the conman stockbroker who was jailed for 150 years, and Grouty from 1970s sitcom Porridge – the ageing hood who was the unofficial governor of HMP Slade. Nicola Sturgeon and her husband Peter Murrell on the red carpet for a movie premiere in Edinburgh in 2016 On the bright side, new Justice Secretary Neil Gray will probably let him out soon because of jail overcrowding. For Ms Sturgeon – who has moved to London – charity work, writing, media punditry, interviews at literary festivals, and after-dinner speaking engagements might remain on the agenda. But she will now be dogged by questions about her husband’s crimes, as she fights to salvage the vestiges of a legacy which was already dead in the water. A stint in the jungle with Ant and Dec could be a go-er, but even in the depths of a subtropical rainforest she would face uncomfortable campfire interrogations about her husband’s addiction to Amazon. There’s no shortage of high drama, so a Netflix adaptation might be on the cards, or at the very least a Channel 5 docudrama. A true crime limited series would do well on any streaming service, with Operation Branchform detectives discussing the difficult task of unpicking the false accounting trails laid by Murrell as he went about his nefarious deeds. Murrell, a Machiavellian figure, only ever glimpsed by his wife’s side at polling stations, or on the occasional social media image showing him going about various domestic tasks, was busy buying video games, pricey pens and coffee machines. He also bought a onesie costing more than £75 – mercifully, Ms Sturgeon claims never to have seen him wearing it, or to have seen it at all. Police officers outside Ms Sturgeon and Mr Murrell's home in Uddingston, Lanarkshire, in 2023 While assembling this veritable Aladdin’s cave of goodies, his wife was busy hiking taxes and preaching about the evils of child poverty. It’s a tawdry tale replete with dark ironies – the dramatic fall from grace of two figures who dominated Scottish politics for many years. Their carefully constructed façade lies in ruins, but the same can be said of nationalism – a smoke-and-mirrors project straight from the Land of Oz. A party which can’t look after its own donors’ cash plainly can’t be trusted to manage the nation’s finances. John Swinney is resisting an inquiry, for now, but Murrellgate is a perfect encapsulation of all that is wrong with devolved Scotland – from cosy cabals to denial, secrecy and cover-up. Ms Sturgeon led the party – and tried to silence critics who blew the whistle about its cooked books – while her husband was chief executive. It was a toxic arrangement which her old mentor Alex Salmond advised her to end. She refused to do so – admittedly, it’s awkward to sack your own husband – but now says she should have done so at the time. There are plenty of regrets, but Ms Sturgeon is mainly concerned about the ‘trauma’ she has suffered, rather than the ripped-off victims. It’s narcissism on a grand scale, though it must be hard to go from the country’s ‘chief mammy’ to tarnished goods, the seemingly myopic wife of a greedy fraudster who used stolen money to buy her Christmas presents. The reputational damage she has sustained is huge – but you’d have to button up the back to swallow even half of her story. Incidentally, maybe we can expect an update to the former First Minister’s self-aggrandising memoir, Frankly, though she might just add in a couple of words – no comment. Whatever happens to Murrell and his wife, the stench of this affair will cling to Ms Sturgeon – and to the party. It has completely overshadowed the first weeks of Mr Swinney’s cobbled-together, allegedly new-look government, which closely resembles the last one. The only high-profile addition, Stephen Flynn, who we’re told is a potential future SNP leader, is itching to fly to the United States to watch Scotland play in the World Cup. This is a washed-up government bogged down in sleaze – only weeks after polling day. The row shows the enormous and widening gap between the promise of the height of the Sturgeon era around a decade ago – and the current grisly reality for the SNP. Mr Swinney can’t wish this away – he was a senior figure in the party and in government during this fraud – though he seems to have shared Ms Sturgeon’s limitless incuriosity (about almost everything, it seems). If he continues to refuse demands for a probe, Mr Swinney may prove to be another casualty of Murrellgate. Of course, it’s the story of one man’s crimes – but the shockwaves of this scandal go far beyond the confines of his prison cell. No comments have so far been submitted. Why not be the first to send us your thoughts, or debate this issue live on our message boards. By posting your comment you agree to our house rules. Do you want to automatically post your MailOnline comments to your Facebook Timeline? Your comment will be posted to MailOnline as usual. Do you want to automatically post your MailOnline comments to your Facebook Timeline? 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