LIKE a broken clock, Ed Miliband gets it right once in a while.

It happened last year, when the Labour leader demanded a public inquiry on phone hacking while David Cameron was still dilly-dallying over dumping his buddy Rupert Murdoch.

And Stopped-Clock Ed got it right again when he threatened to call a vote in Parliament on the bonus for Royal Bank of Scotland chief executive Stephen Hester.

By Sunday the banker had folded like a cheap accordion – or perhaps that should be an over-paid accordion – and announced he wouldn’t be trousering £963,000 in shares after all.

I suppose this kind of grand gesture is a little easier to make when the bonus is merely a top-up for the £1.2m salary which rolls into your bank account no matter what.

But still, fair play to Mr Miliband for taking the lead on this one and forcing the boss of RBS to back down.

The Labour leader made the simple point that it was absurd and outrageous for a man whose bank is 82% owned by the taxpayer to stuff his pockets as if he were any other private sector banker.

By contrast David Cameron, usually so sure-footed when it comes to public opinion, got it all wrong.

It seems the Prime Minister was convinced that Mr Hester would quit if the Government denied him his near-£1m reward for a mediocre year at the head of RBS.

As a rich man himself, it’s ironic that Mr Cameron appears to have fallen for the Briefcase Bluff, the oldest trick in the Big Book of Wealthy Wheezes.

We see the trick played every time anyone suggests even the mildest redistribution of money.

“We’ll leave and then you’ll be sorry!” cry the rich as they cling to every last piece of their gold.

At this point politicians usually back down, but just occasionally the Briefcase Bluff is called.

Think of the furore a few years ago when Labour brought in the 50p tax rate for top earners.

The rich and their cheerleaders howled in anguish, saying the country’s “wealth creators” would be off to Switzerland in a flash if such a shocking policy were brought in.

In an uncharacteristic display of backbone, Labour called the Briefcase Bluff, effectively telling the rich to make sure the door didn’t hit them on the way out.