“You don’t like me,” I said, and immediately regretted it.
Schmidt looked at me indifferently, but he must have been surprised at my statement.
“Look, Mr. Spencer, this is business. Nothing more. Don’t behave like an immature little boy wondering whether I like you or don’t like you. All you have to do is what is expected of you. If you’re looking for applause or a pat on the back, then you’ve come to the wrong place.”
“You would not have chosen me to do this job.”
I saw that he was weighing whether to answer, and eventually decided not to. He shrugged and stood up.
“I’ll see you again in a week. By then I expect to have seen articles along the right lines appear in the press.”
He left my office without saying goodbye, but he did share a word with Maggie.
“Ha, he’s getting to you and you don’t like it one bit,” Maggie said with a laugh.
“I’m getting to him as well,” I said grumpily. “Tell Evelyn to come to my office. We’ve got work to do. And we’ll need you as well. You’ll have to stay after five o’clock.”
“I’ll put the meter on. You know that my overtime rate is in my contract. As long as you pay there’s no problem.”
I read the papers Schmidt had given me very carefully. They described, step by step, what I had to do, and the first thing was to call Christopher Blake, whose radio station and newspaper were now the major media players in the region. I invited him to come to London and have dinner with me and he accepted eagerly. He didn’t even complain that the invitation was for the following day.
The papers Schmidt had given me contained a detailed investigation of the lives of the leaders of the environmental groups. Most were young enthusiasts; only two had Achilles’ heels. We had to smear those who had done something incriminating in the past. It’s not that these things were particularly bad, but if the material were presented in the right way then these activists could be neutralized.
I explained the plan to Evelyn and she looked at me in amusement.
“So it was you who sent me all that information about Roy Parker’s opponents, and I followed your lead like an innocent child.”
“You didn’t publish anything that wasn’t true,” I added.
“And now you want us to sink two of these people. One of them because he had a drug problem when he was a teenager, and the other because he worked for a fracking company and now, after being fired, works for a renewable energy firm. That’s not a lot to go on.”
“If it’s in the papers it will have an effect. All we need is for Blake’s paper to publish an article about who’s who in the movement against fracking. Once the shit is stirred then the smell will stick to everyone. We’ll shift people’s attention from the main issue. We want people talking not about fracking but about the crap that all the people opposed to it are involved in, especially when the firm will bring definite benefits to the county and create jobs where they’re most needed. Which of your old colleagues could use this information? Oh, and we need it on the Internet as well.”
“A shame that Philip Sullivan doesn’t work with us. He’s a wizard with Internet stuff.”
“Jim Cooper is too. And Sullivan himself recommended him to us,” I said.
Cooper, as he preferred to be called, was an excellent hacker. He had been Philip’s friend when Philip was sharing his apartment and computer, and his love, with the guy who cheated him. When the case went to court, Cooper gave a statement in Philip’s favor, claiming that he was more gullible than anything else. But Cooper himself wasn’t at all gullible, and he was always short on cash. He had to support his parents; his mother had never worked and his father had been fired from his job at a mattress factory. Cooper also had two younger brothers. The whole family relied on him. His bills kept building up, so for a good salary he was more than happy to be our Trojan horse into the Internet.
The aim was clear: to smear the names of the two activists and prompt the media to focus more on their shameful pasts than on what was really at stake: the fact that the county was about to be changed by fracking.
Evelyn suggested pseudonyms for the two people we were out to destroy: we called one Donald, for Donald Duck, and the other Mouse, after Mickey.
“So no one will know who we’re talking about,” she said, pleased with her idea.
I asked her to come with me to the dinner I was having with her former boss. It took Christopher Blake a certain amount of effort even to recognize her. The girl with the buggy eyes and the stringy hair, dressed in ragged jeans, was now in a black Armani dress and six-inch heels that drew the attention of all eyes in the room.
“Well, well, well, my favorite journalist is now quite the executive,” Blake said admiringly as he pulled out Evelyn’s chair.
We explained what we needed from him. Thankfully, Blake was no coward.
“These kids have no idea how important gas is to the county; it would bring us money and jobs. There are always people who are set against progress,” Evelyn explained.
“What we would like you to do is publish opinion pieces both in favor of and against fracking,” I interjected. “Do some vox pops, especially with unemployed people in the region. The activist who had drug problems…I don’t know…Perhaps he’s a bit unstable. As for the other one, don’t you think it’s immoral when working for a renewable energy firm to lead a campaign against a competitor? There’s a conflict of interest there,” I added.
“I know what you mean…Don’t worry. But you should know that there are lots of people in the county who are opposed to fracking. Ours is a county of shepherds. Our wool is famous. To break up the ground in this way…Well, people are scared of what might happen, especially if it might bring their traditional way of life to an end. What does Roy Parker say? His father-in-law has huge tracts of land in the county and the fracking will affect them,” Christopher Blake said.
“Parker will serve the interests of the county,” I replied.
“And what does that mean?” Blake seemed worried.
“That if they show that fracking won’t harm the environment and that it will create jobs, then he will support it even if it means causing conflict in his family,” Evelyn said.
“I don’t even want to think about what Suzi will say…Parker’s wife is very strong-willed and she loves the land.” Blake said this as though it were a warning.
“Suzi knows that her husband is dedicated to the progress of the county and, however much it hurts him, he needs to put the interests of the many above the complaints of the few,” I declared.
It was a conversation among cynics, and the subtext was evident enough for us all to understand the unspoken. When we said goodbye it was clear that we would have his enthusiastic cooperation with our campaign. A campaign in which the most crucial factor was the invisibility of our influence.
Evelyn did a good job. She knew the county well and, moreover, she knew who was who at her old company, so that she was able to carefully brief some of them about how and when to release the information that was most important to us. In less than a week we had organized a grand polemic in which the supporters and detractors of fracking threw all sorts of mud at one another. One of our featured events was Roy Parker’s press conference. We prepared his part down to the last detail and, I must admit, he gave an Oscar-worthy performance.
Parker was extremely serious, stating that he would do whatever it took to make sure that no fracking company set up shop in the county, and that he would rethink his opposition only if he were presented with at least three positive reports drawn up by independent scientists on the consequences of using this method for extracting gas. And he reminded the public of the personal conflict that would be caused by his having to support a project of this scale, given that his family owned a large tract of land adjacent to the area where the proposed fracking was to be carried out. But, he added, the interests of the citizens would be put above all other considerations. If the reports showed
that there was no risk, then he would be ready to reconsider his initial opposition.
He had made Suzi come with him. This reinforced his credibility because everyone in the entire county knew that his wife’s family was dead set against fracking, or anything that might alter nature’s balance in the area.
His performance was impeccable, and the journalists left the press conference convinced that Roy Parker was an honorable man.
I congratulated him. Roy thanked me. Once we were alone, he and Suzi didn’t bother to hide how furious they were with each other.
“Why do you get my husband involved in this shit?” Suzi snapped at me.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. If he’s involved then it’s because he’s concerned. This isn’t an easy topic and for that reason I think it’s the right thing for Roy not to decide on anything without sufficient guarantees.”
“Do you think I’m an idiot? Don’t underestimate me, Thomas. Fracking is a business, and there will be people who will pocket a lot of money. And others will lose it. What will happen to my parents’ sheep? And the wool works?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, it’s still not guaranteed that anything will happen. You heard what your husband had to say. If there aren’t guarantees that the environment will remain unharmed then he won’t support the project,” I said.
“Fuck that. I know my husband and I know how much he lies,” Suzi replied, avoiding her husband’s angry glare. “If he supports this project it’s because he thinks he can get something out of it. The worst of it is that this is all done in the name of progress. What progress? Lots of people are going to lose their jobs. People will lose their fields, their sheep. It will be a tragedy for the farmers.”
“Look, I don’t care how people make a living, whether it’s with sheep or gas. But it’s not true that jobs will be lost; actually, jobs are going to be created. A gas plant needs a lot of workers,” I insisted.
“Yeah, and of course they’re going to employ shepherds. You’re still underestimating me, Thomas. Don’t do it or you’ll really find out what I’m made of.”
“That’s enough, Suzi!” Roy said, making his exasperation quite clear. “I’ve already told you that I can’t oppose the gas plant simply because your parents own sheep. I don’t like fracking either, but if the reports show that it doesn’t cause damage to the land, or the animals, then it will be difficult for me to stand against it. They’ll accuse me of defending my family’s interests.”
“I wanted you to be a politician. I liked the idea. But now I realize that all you really want is power and money,” she said regretfully. “My money wasn’t enough for you; you needed your own. And that’s why you’ve sold off these lands. You convinced the owners that their land had no value. And in certain cases…well, strange things happened that ‘encouraged’ people to sell. And you’ve been behind it all. I see it clearly now. I’ve been a fool.” She seemed to be on the verge of tears.
Roy’s press conference was even picked up by the national press. Some opinion pieces praised his principles. On the same day the papers started to publish articles both in favor of and against fracking. We had found so-called experts who were willing to swallow the lies. When the public reads an article, they don’t know who is behind it. If you add a university degree and an impressive-sounding position to the credit line, then people will think that the person in question is trustworthy. Sometimes this is not the case. You can always find someone to defend your interests, especially when there’s money in the equation.
On his newspaper’s front page Christopher Blake published a report about the leaders of the anti-fracking movement in the county. Most of the biographies were uninteresting, but the disclosures about Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse led to an endless stream of articles in other newspapers as well as commentary on the radio and television.
Donald had been to rehab, which was where he had learned to love the land. When he got out, he started to work with an environmental group. Soon radicalized, he had participated in certain campaigns, such as one to convince people to stop eating meat and an antinuclear initiative in which he’d chained himself to fences outside nuclear power plants to demand their closure. We had nothing serious on him, but we were able to present him as a paranoid and a radical who hated society, which he blamed for driving him to drugs. He wasn’t to be trusted. As for Mickey Mouse, it was far easier to destroy him. This young man, an engineer at a company developing renewable energy sources, was protecting the interests of his employer. He didn’t want the gas works to be built because his company wanted to expand into the county. An open-and-shut case. It didn’t make any difference that Mickey Mouse’s company stated that it had no intention of expanding into the county. The seeds of doubt had been sown, and many people didn’t even bother to read the report in which the company said it had nothing to do with the conflict that was taking place in the county.
We raised a fine fuss. Even the London newspapers reported the controversy in the county, which helped to polarize public opinion even more.
Local Labour Party members stood up against fracking, but it wasn’t hard to oppose them, given that they had allowed great assaults on the environment to take place in other regions of the country for years.
We won. Roy was sent three technical reports signed by independent experts, one of them a professor who regularly appeared on television and in the papers.
The time had come. I left London just as dawn was breaking. Jim Cooper came with me up to the county to organize a press conference in which Roy would say that he would not oppose the gas company.
It was a little before ten when I called Roy to tell him that we had arrived. He asked me to come to his house and I sent Cooper to work with Roy’s people to organize the press conference. When I got there I found him arguing with Suzi. I said I would come back later, but Suzi stopped me.
“You’re here right on time. You’ll be the first to know that I want a divorce. He’s deceived me. And you too,” she said, looking at me with hatred.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what’s going on here. In any event I don’t think it’s my business,” I said, eager to leave.
“Sit down.” Roy’s voice filled the room.
I stopped, expectant. I didn’t want to have any part in this battle.
“I’m going to ask for a divorce and I’m going to take our children. And don’t try to stop me or I’ll tell the whole world what you are,” Suzi threatened.
“If I’ve done things that weren’t…pure, then you got a lot out of them,” Roy said, his voice equally angry.
Suzi bit her lower lip as she considered her response. I tried again to leave, but Roy’s hand closed on my arm.
“When do you want us to do this damned press conference?” he asked.
“Tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock. It’ll be broadcast on all the television and radio news networks. I’ve brought you a script. It will be fine. You’ve done your part. No one can blame you for anything,” I said, with as much conviction as I could manage.
“I’ll announce something myself tomorrow. I’ll come with my lawyer and hand you the divorce papers,” Suzi said with a bitter smile.
Roy walked toward her with his face twisted. For a moment I was scared that he would hit her. Suzi looked straight at him, daring him to do it. I walked over and pulled at Roy’s arm.
“You’re old enough to solve your problems in a civilized manner. You’ve got two children; you should think about them.” I didn’t enjoy my role as mediator, but I had no other choice.
“You’re right,” said Roy. “I’ll sort this out later. Now tell me what we’re going to do tomorrow.”
Suzi left the room and Roy seemed relieved, though he was frowning. He seemed unsure of what to do.
“Call your press spokesman; get him to call the media for tomorrow. You’ll make a statement. Here it is. All you have to do is read it. Then you take five or six questions. We’ve chosen which journalists will get
to speak. So you can stick to what you need to say without fear of making mistakes. There won’t be any follow-up questions. The important thing is for you to repeat the same message: You want to make good on your promise of a few days before. In view of the reports, even though this affects your family interests, you find no justification to oppose fracking. You don’t like it, but you can’t stand against it. At the same time, you should make it clear that the opinions of the experts have calmed you down a little, and that they’ve assured you that the environmental effects will be minimal and that the small-scale shepherds will not be impacted. The sheep will still be able to graze safely. Say that you want to highlight the advantages that the gas works will bring to employment in the area. You will insist that you understand the desire among some people to keep things the way they are, but you’ll remind them that there is no progress without change, and that you also need to take risks to move forward.” I gave him some sheets of paper that summarized what I had just said.
“All right, I’ll learn the speech,” said Roy.
“The important thing is for you to really interiorize it, so that it is believable. Tell me, is this trouble with Suzi affecting you?”
Roy sighed. He really didn’t need to say anything. It was clear that he was beside himself because of the argument.
“Maybe you’ll think what I’m about to say is ridiculous. We’ve been together all our lives. We met when I was just a kid. She’s always believed in me. She stood up to her parents because I was a nobody,” Roy admitted, growing more upset.
“What exactly happened?”
“Suzi is no fool. There was a time when she preferred to look the other way and let me get on with what I did. But it’s her parents’ land that’s going to be affected. Her father won’t sell. When the offer reached them, just as I’d arranged, he didn’t even read it. He threw the papers on the ground and stamped on them. He accused me of being the instigator of the whole thing. I defended myself, saying it wasn’t like that, that I was looking out for his interests, and that the gas plant would be installed there in any case. Better to sell the land before it became completely useless. He got so furious that he had a heart attack. Suzi blames me. The worst of it is that if she had to choose between her parents and me then it’s obvious, she’d go for her parents every time.”
Story of a Sociopath Page 38
