We Have Lost The President

by Paul Mathews

  ‘Well, gentlemen? Are you going to help me?’

  The officers exchanged serious glances and then nodded.

  ‘Good. I need you to contact Bogdan Bogdanowic. He and I need to talk. So we can stop Rosie Parker from bringing down the Government.’

  The tall officer barked at the short officer. ‘Find Mr Bogdanowic! Get him out here!’

  ‘And if he won’t come?’ asked the short officer.

  ‘Tell him this is a matter of life and death. There’s a killer on the loose! And she must be stopped!’ He took a dramatic breath. ‘And if that means we miss our tea break, that is a sacrifice we shall have to make for our country!’

  The short officer didn’t reply. He just opened the gate and ran towards the palace entrance.

  Britt felt butterflies in her stomach. She, too, could be entering those gates very soon.

  Chapter 35

  Howie was back in the State Dining Room. It wasn’t being used between now and four, so it was the best place to meet Martha Blake and tell her about the extraordinary events of his morning and early afternoon. Well, not all of them. He’d have to leave out any reference to the chief of police rushing to his rescue and then arranging a meeting with Viktor Maxim. But that shouldn’t be difficult. Howie was a senior government comms professional. An ability to be economical with the truth was an essential requirement for the job.

  As he inspected the room’s fireplace, chandeliers and portraits, Howie realised he was in exactly the same spot as yesterday morning – at the top of the table, with its huge expanse of oak stretching out before him. It was probably where he would be sitting in two hours’ time, when he and Martha attended the nomination meeting. The room was quiet now. No birds were singing outside. Motorists were taking a break from honking at each other on the streets. Vice presidents weren’t screaming at civil servants in the corridor. It was an old-world cliché, traditionally trotted out by press officers when a big story was about to break, but this really did feel like the calm before the storm. And not just a storm – more like a force ten hurricane.

  He closed his eyes and imagined he had been transported two hours into the future. This room would be buzzing with excitement and expectation. The vice presidents would be choosing the new Jan Polak. Or rather, choosing the next-best thing to Jan Polak. No one could follow in that man’s footsteps, as far as Howie was concerned. Jan was a legend. The most intelligent, receptive, switched-on politician he had ever come across. He just hoped he would come across him again. Because he was starting to become concerned for the president’s safety. Especially after today’s unpleasant encounters with Viktor Maxim and Oskar Polak.

  The main door opened and Martha appeared. ‘Ah, you’re here. Good. Let’s get started.’ She took a step forward. Then stopped. ‘Hang on a moment. You’re wearing a different suit.’

  Howie cursed under his breath. He had forgotten about his quick change at the police station. ‘Don’t mention Freddie,’ he told himself and mumbled a response. ‘I fell in some mud on my way to the studios. I had to change.’

  Martha examined his new office wear. ‘It looks new.’

  Howie fiddled with his tie. ‘Erm … yeah. It’s quite new.’

  Martha walked over and peeled a sticker from the collar. ‘It’s brand new. It’s still got the import sticker on it.’

  Howie tried not to look guilty. But failed. ‘Oh, erm … has it? I hadn’t noticed.’

  Martha examined the sticker. ‘This says it was part of a bulk order of a thousand.’ She looked deep into his eyes. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me, Howie?’

  ‘I was given it.’ He paused. ‘After I fell over.’

  ‘Someone just gave you that suit?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s right.’ He was just on the boundary between being economical with the truth and lying. He would have to be careful. ‘Someone gave it to me.’

  ‘And who was this someone?’ asked Martha.

  Howie needed to try and change the subject, before he crossed the line. ‘I forget now.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘Right. Shall we get down to business?’

  Martha peered down at him. ‘You’re acting very strangely.’

  ‘It’s been a strange couple of days.’

  Martha paused just long enough for Howie’s cheeks to flush bright pink. It was no good trying to play games with her. She knew he was hiding something.

  ‘Tell me everything that happened today,’ demanded Martha. ‘Including how you got that finest Italian silk suit.’

  Howie shuffled in his seat. ‘It’s a long story.’

  ‘Then give me the synopsis,’ she ordered, sitting down.

  Howie sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to this. ‘Right. I was arrested at the Rise and Shine studios.’

  Martha’s head jolted back, as if she’d just received a mild electric shock. ‘Arrested?! For what exactly?’

  ‘Harassing the First Lady. She was so desperate to get on that bloody show, she pretended she didn’t know me.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Either that or she was involved in Jan’s disappearance and wanted me out of the way.’

  ‘I think that’s unlikely. You’re not the only person looking into it. She would know that.’

  ‘Yeah. I suppose so.’ Howie sighed. ‘Anyway, to get back to the story, they all thought I was some kind of lunatic stalker. I got carted off to the local police station.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness sake. What about your special investigator’s ID?’

  Howie looked away. ‘Erm … I left it back at the pod.’

  Martha’s eyes cartwheeled. ‘What did I say in my e-comm, this morning? Don’t forget your ID. It’s your insurance – your get-out-of-jail-free card.’

  Howie wasn’t enjoying this. But it was his own fault for forgetting the cat’s birthday. ‘I had bleeper problems, remember?’

  ‘Well, everyone else’s bleeper is working alright.’ Martha sighed. ‘How much time did you waste at the police station?’

  ‘About four hours, I reckon. I was arrested as a suspected 24-7. So they didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet.’

  ‘You were arrested as a 24-7 and you were out in four hours? How the hell did you manage that? You should still be there.’

  ‘After I told them who I was, they said I could go. And they gave me this suit – for free.’ That wasn’t a lie. He just hadn’t mentioned Freddie.

  Martha frowned. She didn’t look at all convinced. ‘I’m sorry to doubt you, Howie, but 24-7s don’t talk their way out of police stations. And they most certainly don’t receive free suits on their way out.’

  Howie smiled hopefully. ‘There’s a first time for everything.’

  ‘Yes. You’re quite right.’ Martha gave Howie a fierce stare. ‘And this is the first time you’ve tried to be economical with the truth with me. I’m not a journalist. I’m the head of the National Security and Intelligence Service. Now tell me how you got out of there.’

  He would have to come clean. ‘Okay. I had some help.’

  ‘Was it divine intervention? Because no one helps a 24-7.’

  ‘It was the earthly kind, actually.’ He swallowed hard. ‘The chief-of-police kind.’

  Martha took one of the longest, loudest, breaths through her nose that Howie had ever witnessed. ‘I’m not angry. I’m just disappointed.’ A second later she corrected herself. ‘No, actually I am angry. And I’m not just disappointed. I’m extremely disappointed, Howard.’

  She had called him Howard. That was a bad sign. ‘I know what you said about him, but I bleeped him for help. And he came straight away.’

  Martha crossed her arms. ‘How did you know his bleeper number?’

  ‘He gave it to me at The Savoy last night, after you left.’

  ‘I see. And now you are in his debt. Like so many other high-profile, connected people in this city.’ She shook her head. ‘You’ve compromised your position.’

  ‘No, no. Nothing is compromised. In fact, he didn’t just get me out of th
at hellhole. Freddie then arranged a meeting with one of the people that we think could be linked to the president’s disappearance.’

  ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘Viktor Maxim. Freddie and I met him at The Savoy not long ago.’

  Martha put her head in her hands. ‘This gets worse.’

  ‘Before you have me thrown in the Tower, just let me say this. It’s not Maxim’s connection to Freddie English you need to worry about. It’s Maxim’s connections to Oskar Polak.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Maxim met Oskar on Tuesday. We know that. But I got Maxim to admit that he and Oskar meet up regularly to exchange information.’

  Martha cocked her head. ‘What kind of information?’

  ‘Industry stuff. Current government policy. “A mutually beneficial exchange”, Maxim called it. All legal – so he says. Anyway, I asked if he’d met with Oskar this week. He denied it.’

  ‘He’s a liar.’

  ‘Exactly. And another thing – he’s made at least one political donation in the past. Michael Short’s first campaign. That tells me Maxim is a man who wants connections to the centre of government.’

  ‘That was a long time ago.’

  ‘Yeah, but he claimed he couldn’t remember if he tried to give money to Jan’s campaigns. But of course he bloody remembered. He just wasn’t telling me. He probably got knocked back by Jan’s campaign team. They know a businessman trying to buy influence when they see one.’

  ‘But what’s his motive for getting close to Oskar?’ asked Martha, sounding more alarmed by the second.

  ‘He’s a government supplier. Only small scale. But he confirmed he’s looking to expand. And what are the biggest contracts we award?’

  ‘Tech contracts?’

  ‘No. Defence contracts. Maxim has got interests in that industry. Maurice Skeets told me. And who’s in charge of defence? Step forward, Vice President Oskar Polak.’

  ‘But the president makes the ultimate decision on defence contracts.’

  ‘Only major contracts. Oskar might have already helped him win some smaller ones. But if Oskar becomes the main man … well, then he would make the big decisions. And a winning bid to provide defence services would be worth hundreds of millions of pounds in extra business to Mr Maxim. Maybe even billions.’

  Martha looked thoughtful. ‘You may well be right.’

  ‘There’s more. I bumped into Oskar on the way back to the palace. We had a little chat. Now that’s a man planning for a world without Jan Polak as president. He’s definitely going to be putting his name forward this afternoon.’

  ‘Perhaps that’s what Oskar’s first meeting was about yesterday – the one with the two vice presidents whose names I can never remember.’

  Howie nodded. ‘It’s got to be.’

  ‘Oskar Polak has been a busy boy.’

  ‘Even busier than you think. He’s lined up a replacement for me.’

  ‘You mean someone closer to him?’

  Howie nodded. ‘And our friend Maxim. I don’t know my replacement’s name. But I asked Oskar if they worked for one of Maxim’s companies.’

  ‘That was risky. He might think we’re on to him.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I told him Maxim and I were introduced by a mutual friend and Maxim mentioned their relationship. He just about believed it. But listen to this – Oskar said he had no idea Maxim was in town this week.’

  ‘So they’re both denying Tuesday’s meeting ever took place? This isn’t sounding good. Those two are planning something.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s like they knew Jan was going to disappear.’

  Martha sat in silence for a half a minute, while she digested everything Howie had told her. Then she gave her assessment. ‘You’ve reached a very reasonable conclusion, Howie.’

  She was calling him Howie again. This was a good sign. Then his bleeper buzzed. He rummaged in his trouser pocket. ‘Sorry, Martha. I’ll turn it off.’

  ‘No. See who it is.’

  Howie checked his bleeper. ‘It’s that bloody Maurice Skeets again. He’s a pain in the arse.’ Then Howie remembered Maurice’s earlier bleep. And he had an idea. ‘Where’s Kaia-Liisa? We need an urgent word with her.’

  ‘She’s in the president’s private office. But why bother her again? She told us nothing useful this morning.’

  ‘I think she might be Maurice’s source.’

  Martha looked at Howie in disbelief. ‘Kaia-Liisa? Don’t be so silly. She’s a career civil servant. Efficient, trusted, reliable. You must be mistaken.’

  ‘Maurice told me there’s a pair of eyes that sees everything in the president’s office. That means you. But he didn’t give me your name.’

  ‘Why is that so strange?’

  ‘If it was one of the vice presidents feeding him stuff, they would have told him it was you. Why wouldn’t they? But if that source was someone inside the president’s office – someone who dealt with the president’s daily business and was being watched by that pair of eyes – then they wouldn’t be so free with their information. It’s all about self-interest.’

  ‘You’re the expert on these things, but I’m still not sure it’s something we should be pursuing today.’

  ‘Let’s say Kaia-Liisa is the source. Then maybe she knows more about those secret meetings than she told us. Okay, Maurice didn’t have a lot of detail, but maybe Kaia-Liisa didn’t tell him the whole story? Or maybe Maurice knows more than he’s letting on? I don’t know.’

  Martha frowned. ‘That’s a lot of maybes.’

  ‘I know. But if we can get more out of her, it might give us a clue about where Jan might be. If we don’t confront her, we won’t know.’

  She considered his suggestion. ‘It wouldn’t do any harm, I suppose.’

  ‘Then let’s do it. Let’s find the leak and plug it.’

  Martha stood up and nodded. ‘Yes. Let’s do it.’

  Chapter 36

  Britt had been waiting twenty minutes for Bogdan Bogdanowic to emerge with his police escort. He was the only man who could give her the access to the palace she so desperately needed. Where the hell was he? She started to wonder if he was going to show up at all. And if he did, maybe he would say her plan was just too crazy and refuse to cooperate. Even worse, he could accuse Britt of blackmail and contact the police. That could end in a trip to a police cell. She had only experienced that joy once during her journalistic career and it wasn’t something she wanted to repeat. It was five years ago. Back then, she’d been released after a couple of hours, after explaining she was a journalist. But now, with the new 24-7 rules and her reputation for exposing police corruption, that wouldn’t be so easy.

  Then a stupid thought entered her head – had the president been arrested? Was he trapped in a police station somewhere, trying to persuade some dumb police officer that he was the leader of the British Republic? Could they have confused him with his brother Oskar? Now there was a man who needed to be locked up. As a rule, Britt tried not to make judgements about politicians. But over the past day or so, she had developed an intense dislike for the president’s twin brother. While getting her story was the priority, it would be an added bonus if she could ruin his chances of becoming president.

  ‘I think that’s them now, Miss Pointer,’ announced the tall police officer. He waited a few moments until their faces came into view. ‘Yes. It’s definitely my colleague with Mr Bogdanowic.’

  As they approached, Britt could see that Bogdan was a huge Rottweiler of a man – the total opposite of his Labrador-puppy nephew. She would have to take care when handling this particular Bogdanowic breed. If she wasn’t careful, she could easily get mauled.

  The left-hand gate opened. The short officer marched Bogdan out to where Britt was standing and gestured towards him. ‘This is Mr Bogdanowic.’

  Bogdan didn’t speak. He just snarled.

  ‘Thank you, officers,’ replied Britt, realising that getting rid of them was her next priority. It was nev
er a good idea to have police witnesses when you were blackmailing someone. ‘Now, I don’t want to take up any more of your valuable time. I can handle things from here.’

  ‘You sure about that, madam?’ asked the tall officer, sounding worried.

  Britt nodded. ‘You carry on with whatever it was you were doing, before I interrupted you.’

  The short officer turned to his colleague. ‘We weren’t really doing nothing, were we? We can walk you to the entrance, if you like, and —’

  ‘Officers!’ Bogdan barked, so loudly that he made Britt and the officers jump. ‘This my business. Not yours. So go.’

  The officers reluctantly turned around and walked towards their colleagues on the central gate. As Britt watched them trudge away, she gave a silent cheer. She was now alone with the man who held the key to Buckingham Palace. All she had to do was persuade him to put it in the lock and open the door.

  Bogdan’s top lip curled upwards to reveal a large set of yellowing teeth. ‘You are … journalist?’

  Britt took a step back. Just in case Bogdan decided to bite her. ‘My name is Britt Pointer. I work for The Republican.’ She showed him her ID. ‘We need to chat.’

  Bogdan inspected the card. Then he looked her up and down, as if assessing which of her bones he wanted to chew first. ‘One of your colleagues trying to break into palace, yes?’

  It was time to reveal her real motives and see if Bogdan was going to play ball. ‘That’s not true. I just told the officers that to get you out here.’

  Bogdan’s nostrils flared. His eyes bulged. And the veins in his neck throbbed. Then he took a step towards her. ‘Then why I here?’

  His words sounded more of a threat than a question. Britt felt genuine fear. But she stood her ground. ‘I know about your Code Red crisis.’

  Bogdan glanced backwards, as if checking for escape routes. ‘I not understand.’

  Britt looked around. There was no one within fifty metres of them, so she raised her voice. ‘I know the president went missing from the palace on Monday night.’