WHEN Tory leader Michael Howard flies into the North-East today to launch his party's strategy on law and order, he will have the elected Mayor of Middlesbrough, Ray Mallon, by his side.

This is the same Mayor who, despite being elected as an independent, recently declared his ambition to be a Labour MP.

That doesn't matter one jot to Mr Howard. Anti-social behaviour is the number one election issue on the doorsteps of Britain, the Tories - once known as the party of law and order - need to make up some ground, and being associated with the Mallon factor is seen as a quick fix.

Love him or hate him, Mr Mallon is firmly back in fashion with the political heavyweights. They're flocking to him like moths to a light, or even tabloid editors to Faria Alam.

Labour Party officials were falling over themselves to persuade him stand to be Peter Mandelson's successor in Hartlepool. The regional government campaigners are desperate for him to back their calls for a "yes" vote. And Mr Howard can't afford to be left out.

We have returned to the heady days which preceded Operation Lancet, when politicians of all colours wanted to be with Mr Mallon because his zero tolerance badge was a guaranteed vote-winner.

Those same politicians, of course, wouldn't touch him with several barge-poles once the flak was flying through the long, expensive years of the inquiry.

But that's all forgotten now - the wheel has turned full circle. And when the Tory leader chooses the unlikely setting of Middlesbrough to launch a key element of his forthcoming election manifesto, it is because Mr Mallon is the main man in town.

To his Conservative Party suitors, Mr Mallon remains elusive but utterly desirable - because he connects with ordinary people.

To his Labour Party suitors, his dalliance with the Opposition today will be seen as an act of infidelity but one which will be forgiven - because he connects with ordinary people.

Politicians are nothing if not fickle.