‘In truth, we only saw the car, not Wagner himself,’ Sean replied.
‘We know he was there, just as I know Blom is behind all of this,’ Anna said, raising her voice slightly.
‘She’s right. The priority needs to be to stop this insidious mess that Blom is behind. People are getting killed. I know you’d rather find out more and make it the perfect story, but this time, I think you’ll just have to publish a scandal piece and be done. If this Wagner character has some influence over a key EU official, lord knows what damage could be done,’ Clive added.
It was nothing more than Sean expected from Clive: intelligent as he was, he was still a policeman at heart, and stopping crime was always his first priority.
‘Liz?’ Sean asked, looking for a more balanced view.
‘I’m not sure. I’ll defer to your judgement,’ she said.
‘Sean, you really need to publish this, not just to stop Blom, but also to allow me to return to a normal life and go back to work. Otherwise, I’m a prisoner,’ Anna pleaded.
‘It’s only half a story though. What about the others? What about Phil and Allsop? We haven’t solved their killings,’ Sean said, shaking his head, still unconvinced.
‘Please, Sean, if nothing else, do it for me.’ Anna reached out and put her hand on his.
As soon as he felt Anna’s touch, Sean immediately withdrew his hand and looked at Liz, making sure that she knew he hadn’t made the gesture.
‘Are you happy that we don’t follow up on Phil’s death, Clive?’ Sean asked, beginning to think that he was losing the argument.
‘I’ll keep the pressure on the Belgian police, but this is separate to that,’ Clive responded.
‘Please, Sean,’ Anna said.
‘Just do it, Sean. Then we can all get our lives back to normal,’ Liz said, glaring at Anna.
It went against all Sean’s instincts, but now he was the only one defending further work, and Liz had obviously realised that it was an opportunity to get rid of Anna for good. ‘Okay, sod it!’ he reluctantly agreed. ‘I’ll pad the story out a bit and take it to some editors. They’ll probably ask for more, which I don’t have, but it’ll get published in a tabloid.’
Still unable to make any connection between Phil’s or Allsop’s death and Blom, or the attempt on Anna’s life and Blom, Sean decided that it was just something he’d have to put down to experience and move on. There was too much at stake to do anything else. He wasn’t about to lose Liz over any story, no matter how important.
Early in the afternoon, he crafted a short piece entitled EU COMMISSIONER LINKED TO NAZI LEADER and attached a few of the more telling photos: one of Blom getting into Wagner’s car with the envelope; one of him getting out without it; and one of Wagner speaking at the rally in the Czech Republic. He wasn’t happy with the story, because it left too many why questions unanswered, but he settled for it the way it was, and didn’t offer any speculation beyond what the images showed, protecting his legal position. He didn’t even mention the corruption in the translation department.
It took him less than two hours to sell the story to four newspapers in different countries, all with national exclusives. Even he had been surprised by the price he attained: at €20,000 per country. After costs, and splitting half with Liz, he’d still have €15,000 which would allow him to buy back 15% of the company from Liz.
Even though the story was a financial success, it still didn’t leave him with a good taste. It was just an assassination, nothing else. Maybe Blom deserved it, Anna seemed sure, but to Sean it was an unfinished piece and that was something every good journalist hated.
Chapter Fifteen
Friday, 2nd September. London, England.
The piece hit the news in morning. By midday, Blom had resigned from his post in the Commission amid the scandal, which had broken out into a wider discussion about the extent of the powers the unelected European Commission held.
Anna was interviewed by the BBC News at Heathrow airport, before catching a flight back to Brussels. She commented that the power in the EU should be devolved from the state member cronies of the Commission, to the real elected representatives of the Parliament. Shortly afterwards, the British Prime Minister said much the same, renewing his commitment to EU reform.
Within a few days, the Commission President had also resigned, citing unacceptable changes in the power balance between the Parliament and the Commission.
Sean wasn’t surprised when Clive announced that he was going to Brussels to visit the Belgian police regarding Phil’s death. He was convinced that Blom was behind it and he wanted them to investigate it. While there, he also attended the coroner’s hearing on Allsop, which confirmed the suicide theory that the police had put forward.
Author's Note
The European Commission was created to fulfil the role of the EU civil service. But unlike the UK Civil Service, which is politically neutral and its employees are legally barred from political party membership, the European Commission is led by its own political president and a group of 28 political commissioners, who each occupy a cabinet post.
This group of unelected political leaders is responsible for all of the EU’s resources, including: the initiation and drafting of every EU law, and the management and allocation of the whole EU budget.
In the world today there are a number of states that follow the same system of governance and are ruled by unelected political leaders: The People’s Republic of China and the Democratic People’s Republic of Korea (North Korea) are just two.
PART TWO
Chapter Sixteen
Sunday, 24th January. London, England.
Kissing Liz on the cheek gently before standing and straightening his bow tie, Sean walked steadily through the tables, shaking hands before he climbed onto the stage to accept his outstanding journalism award: his second in just twelve months, albeit from a different organisation. Last time, he’d been in hospital and unable to attend the ceremony, or make a speech. This time, after clearing his throat, he thanked everybody that had helped him in his investigation of Lyle Walsh, the Baptist priest from Cornwall, who had since been arrested for a number of crimes, including extortion and embezzlement.
Then he turned his attention to what he really wanted to say and spoke about the plight of a thirteen-year-old Thai girl, sold into prostitution by her father at twelve and brutally raped every night for a year, until she was finally rescued by a loving British couple. Now the Home Office were trying to force that couple to return the girl into the same plight. He didn’t mention any names, just the outline facts, but he knew that the room was filled with journalists and it would be followed up by at least one of them.
All the way home to their Fulham flat from the Mandarin Oriental hotel in Knightsbridge, Liz held onto his arm, leaning her head on him gently. ‘That was very selfless of you, to use your time in the spotlight to help Praew, rather than further your own career,’ she said.
Suddenly feeling good about himself, Sean bent his neck forward and kissed her on the forehead. ‘It’s the least I can do. You’ve been jumping through all the hoops with the idiots at the Home Office, while I’ve been gallivanting around having fun, chasing errant priests.’
A smile broke out on Liz’s face. ‘You were right about him,’ she said.
‘Yes, a nasty piece of work.’
‘I can’t believe his followers still supported him through the trial,’ Liz said, as they arrived at the flat.
Sean took her by the waist gently as she stepped out of the cab. ‘Praew’s staying at your mum’s, isn’t she?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘Then how would you like to have kinky sex with a multi-award-winning journalist?’
‘I can’t think of anything I’d rather do more right now. Who were you planning on bringing over? I quite fancy that guy on ITV News,’ Liz giggled, letting Sean pick her up and carry her into their apartment.
*
Waking up late in the morning a
nd feeling the effects of the previous night’s festivities, both in and out of the home, Sean pulled on a pair of boxer shorts and stumbled into the kitchen, where Liz was cooking eggs and bacon. ‘That smells fantastic,’ he said, sitting at the dining table and flicking on the TV.
Searching the stations, he quickly found the news, where the anchor was reporting on a fire in a warehouse, somewhere in East London. Sean looked down at the scars on his stomach and chest and thought about how much his life had changed in the last year. The elephant was still in the corner in his relationship with Liz, and they only had a few months left before they needed to make a decision, but they hadn’t discussed it since that day in the car, both acknowledging that if they couldn’t change it, then it was better left unsaid.
In a way, Sean thought that the Damocles sword that hung over their relationship had strengthened their bond, with both of them seeking to get the most out of it before the sword inevitably fell.
‘Oh, what’s that bitch been up to now?’ Liz said, looking at the TV, where Anna Faustein was speaking to a reporter outside the European Parliament building in Strasbourg.
‘Ms Faustein, why have the three parties merged?’ the reporter asked.
‘It’s just a further evolution of Europe and a move to greater democracy,’ Anna replied.
‘Really? But doesn’t it put a lot of power in one party: some 65% of the vote?’ the reporter questioned.
‘Yes, but we’re democratically elected representatives of the people, rather than the unelected bureaucrats in the Commission,’ Anna said.
‘Why do you think you were chosen to lead this new mega-party, when you’re a relatively unknown backbencher, and might I say, a lot younger than your peers?’
‘I think the party sees in me a person that can lead them into the future, into a new Europe with closer and closer union between members.’
The interview broke off and the picture returned to the main anchor in the London studio. ‘That was Anna Faustein, the newly appointed head of the Federal Party for Europe.’
Pulling a puzzled face, Sean switched the volume down as the weather came on. ‘That’s a bit strange, don’t you think? When we met her, she was a staunchly anti-federalist backbencher. Now, only a few months later, she’s the leader of a newly formed pro-federalist party, with 65% of the EU voting power.’
‘What are you suggesting?’ Liz asked.
‘I don’t know. It’s just odd, that’s all.’
‘I hope you’re not thinking of contacting her. Last time you had anything to do with her it nearly ruined our relationship.’
Liz’s fiery reaction was anticipated and Sean sat back in his seat, formulating his response carefully. ‘Liz, you know nothing happened, and look at us now: we’re better together than we’ve ever been. I just smell a rat, that’s all. Isn’t that my job?’
Joining Sean at the table, Liz placed his greasy breakfast in front of him. ‘What is it that you think she’s up to?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know, but I’d like to ask her a few questions about her sudden about-turn.’
‘Okay, but I’m coming with you,’ Liz said.
‘I think we should doorstep her; give her no time to prepare,’ Sean suggested.
‘How? She’ll be surrounded by the media now.’
‘Let’s use Clive again. He can watch her and let us know when an opportune chance appears.’
‘Look at you, spending our money now that you’re a 50% shareholder,’ Liz laughed.
It had been a pleasing moment for Sean when he’d netted enough money from the Walsh piece to pay back Liz, and leave a little more to carry on. They still weren’t far from bankruptcy, but they were at least on the right side of the line. ‘Do you think we can’t afford him?’ Sean asked, misinterpreting Liz’s response.
‘I was joking silly. I think we should use Clive. He’ll probably catch that bitch eating children, or something equally nasty.’
Chapter Seventeen
Monday, 1st February. Brussels, Belgium.
Both Sean and Liz had decided to leave it a week before travelling to Brussels, as they had a few things to follow up on the Walsh piece, and anyway, they wanted to allow some time for the hype around Anna to die down.
Travelling ahead with Terry to set up camp and establish a pattern for Anna’s movements, Clive was glad to be back on the case, as he felt the death of Phil was still unresolved, his efforts with the Belgian police having fallen upon deaf ears.
‘She’s not in the same apartment anymore. She keeps a large house on Avenue de Lothier in the Woluwe St Pierre district, and either she’s won the lottery recently, or she’s living above her means. When I say a large house I mean a 16,000 square foot mansion, in the best district in Brussels,’ Clive said, nursing a beer in the same café in Place Jourdan where they’d met previously.
‘Can we get any background checks done on her: family money etc.? She wouldn’t get a place like that on an MEP’s salary.’ Sean frowned.
‘Already onto it. We should have some information tomorrow,’ Clive answered.
‘What’s she been up to?’ Sean asked.
‘Working mostly. She’s been at her offices until dinner each evening, then she dines with a steady stream of politicians, both national and EU. We’ve got pictures of everybody she’s met with outside of work and home, but nobody out of the ordinary,’ Terry reported.
‘How about the house?’ Sean asked.
‘Ten foot high walls with barbed wire on top, permanent security on the gate, flat land… There’s no way we can find out what’s going on inside. Some cars come and go, but they all have privacy glass so we don’t know who’s in them, and unfortunately, my contacts don’t stretch into the Belgian police, so we can’t find out who owns them,’ Clive said.
‘How does she get to work?’ Liz asked.
‘This is where I think there’s a chance: she runs,’ Clive smiled.
‘Perfect. Why just a chance?’ Sean queried.
‘Firstly, she’s fast, and can probably outrun you if she wants to.’
Memories of the clumsy way she’d run away from the car in Place Jourdan crossed Sean’s mind. Even though she was wearing heels it hadn’t been the gait of somebody used to running, especially not somebody Clive considered fast. ‘Are you sure? She seemed rather awkward on her feet before.’
‘There are a lot of things about this Anna Faustein that don’t compute with the timid woman who showed up in London. The second reason that the running route might not work is that she has her car follow her and can get in and leave at any sign of a problem,’ Clive said.
‘That’s odd. I thought she was a bit chameleon-like before, changing from the lost girl to the independent businesswoman in minutes. But why the act?’
‘I don’t know, but I’m telling you that the lost girl is long gone and she’s now a woman who’s in charge. It’s in her walk, in the way she speaks to people. She’s a formidable woman,’ Clive said.
*
Before he left the hotel the next morning, Liz held onto him tightly. ‘You know I don’t like you being around her, Sean. She tried to steal you from me before and didn’t even have the courtesy to hide it.’
‘I know, but she’s got no chance. I have the two most beautiful women in the world already. Why would I need another?’ he said.
The journey from the hotel to the interception point only took ten minutes before Sean had to climb out of the warm car. He waited by a hedge, outside the park on the Avenue de Marquis Villalobar, in the faint light that emitted over the high walls from the mansions lining one side of the street. From his position, it was just possible to see the corner where Terry was hiding, ready to signal Anna’s arrival. Banging his feet on the gravel path, trying to keep the blood flowing in the subzero temperature, he rubbed his arms up and down his sides in the heavy tracksuit, worn with a beanie hat, so that Anna wouldn’t recognise him from behind when she approached.
In a weird way he was excit
ed about seeing Anna again. He’d rekindled his relationship with Liz, partly as a result of her flirting, but that wasn’t what it was: he knew the sensation; it was the thrill of the story; the chase for the elusive information that made the difference between a great story and a hollow report. And with Anna Faustein, Allsop and Blom et al., he knew he had unfinished business. Now, Anna’s sudden rise to fame gave him the perfect opportunity to re-open his enquiries.
Two quick flashes of a torch indicated that Anna was approaching, so Sean started to run at a steady pace along the gravel path that ran adjacent to the park. He was glad to be running, letting the feeling come back into his extremities as the blood flowed to them, and it wasn’t long before he could hear Anna’s footsteps approaching, then the lights of her car lit up the footpath in front of him. Three other runners had passed while he waited, so the sight of another person wouldn’t be anything of concern for Anna, or her security.
Her controlled breathing suddenly came into earshot, as she moved up quickly behind him and her steps were fast and light on the gravel. Then, in no time, she passed him, striding away quickly.
‘Anna,’ he called out.
She spun around quickly and instinctively moved towards her car, then squinted. ‘Sean?’ she said. ‘Is that you beneath that stupid hat? Have you been following me?’ she smiled and leant against the car.
‘Hi, Anna, I was hoping that I could ask you a few questions?’ Sean said, suddenly feeling a little silly.
‘You can if you can keep up with me. I have an early meeting,’ she said, as she started to run again.
Sean quickly scrambled to catch up.
‘You do know that the normal way to get in touch with me is to arrange a meeting through my office? Jumping out of the bushes near my house is a little weird,’ she called out over her shoulder.
sThe Quiet Wart Page 9
