JUST the five Tories caught up so far in Betgate, the political scandal that’s made us all forget that Rishi Sunak hates our D-Day troops.

If Squinter were a betting man – which he is – he’d have his holiday money on there being a lot, lot more than five people entering the winner’s enclosure after getting the date of the election straight from the horse’s mouth. And that’s not because he knows a lot about the people in No.10 – that’s because he knows a lot about betting tips.

There is nothing known to humankind – Usain Bolt, the MIG-31 Foxbat, the Bugatti Chiron, Jamie Bryson when a banger goes off – that moves faster than a betting tip. And there’s nothing that spreads quicker either. A certain look or even a gesture’s enough to send a racing tip round a Belfast pub before the bookies have time to shorten the odds. And when you’ve got a load of chinless wonders who know about as much about betting as Squinter knows about Barbour jackets, and when that shower of chinless wonders have the smell of moolah in their wine-veined noses, it’s going to be a charge as big – and ill-advised – as that of the Light Brigade.

The strange thing is that even though the sums are infinitely more modest than the expenses or PPE VIP lane scandals, these betting revelations are more richly indicative of that party’s sheer greed. While there are plenty of people who would be more than willing to sacrifice their reputations and careers for a share of the vast millions to be plundered from the PPE trough, who among those who have been caught up – or who will be caught up – in the betting scandal who would trade it all in for a few hundred quid or even a grand from Paddy Power? Few to none, comes the answer, but when there’s money to be had there are Tories to be bought. Even for a pittance.

The thicker Hooray Henrys will have ensured their own undoing by either placing the bet themselves or getting someone too close to them to do it. They’re likely the low-hanging fruit that the betting companies have already rumbled. But since we’re now looking at what Messrs Ladbroke and Hill know as ‘irregular betting patterns’ – ie, the computer shouted ‘WTF?’ – every single substantial bet (a pay-out of over, say, a hundred quid) is going to be examined by both the betting companies and the Gambling Commission. And that means that those who thought they were being clever by keeping their distance, may only have been postponing their certain doom.

Not that it’s going to matter. This matter isn’t going to explode before July 4, and even if – as Squinter fully expects – a vast number of Ruperts in check shirts and gilets are found out, nobody’s going to care much because Rishi and his band of pilfering punters will be gone.

Bet on it.