Deceit

by Richard Evans

  Gerrard was dressed for early media interviews in a blue Italian suit, navy blue silk tie and crisply ironed white shirt. He scanned the Financial Review, flicking past the editorials and obituaries; looking for any political leaks that should worry him. He zeroed in on an article about his meeting with the Indonesian president, then a smiling Margaret joined him, slinging an arm over his shoulder and kissing his cheek.

  ‘Hello, handsome.’

  ‘Sleep well, gorgeous?’

  ‘Eventually.’ She picked at his fruit and smiled.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about your idea, and I reckon I’ve worked out a plan.’

  ‘Go on.’ Margaret, in her nightgown and silk robe, straddled a stool and joined her husband as Janette, Yarralumla’s chef, poured her tea into her favourite over large, colourful china cup.

  ‘Freddy’s death has hit me a little bit and maybe you’re right, it could be time for me to let go.’ Gerrard sipped his tea. ‘I was planning to hang around until I hit seventy, and then we could get a job overseas and live comfortably forever.’

  ‘How nice.’

  ‘But now I’m not so sure.’

  ‘I keep asking you to retire, Drew, and this thing with Sonja has sent a shiver through me. I don’t know how I feel, but suddenly all of this doesn’t seem as important to me anymore.’

  ‘I tend to agree, so I have a plan.’

  ‘Can you tell me, or will it be a secret like some of the other things you do?’

  ‘Well, historically, after significant tragic national events, there is usually a period of community mourning. Don’t ask me why, but consumers leave the market for a significant period, leading to an economic downturn. This could be bad news for the retailers during the Christmas trading season. We can’t afford to have a consumer-led downturn right now. This could affect the by-elections and the vote could move against us. It may even mean we lose government.’

  ‘Like I said, darling, it might be time to go.’

  ‘You could be right, so I have an idea.’

  Margaret turned to the chef. ‘Janette, would you mind giving us a few moments.’

  The chef wiped her hands and left the kitchen.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Gerrard paused for maximum impact. ‘We release a Christmas bonus to the punters.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘I’m thinking six to seven billion.’

  ‘How does that help us?’

  ‘Well, we put an urgent Appropriation Bill into the house. We tie this legislation to the deal with the Indonesians. Not just the first tranche we were planning to vote on today, but the whole lot.’

  ‘Can you do that? How much would it be?’

  ‘The total appropriation would be around ten billion. The media would normally have gone ape-shit over a four-billion-dollar deal with the Indonesians; they’ve already given me a tough time with the millions in this first lot.’

  ‘Four billion is a lot of money, how can you get it through?’

  ‘Well if cabinet agree, we tie it to the stimulus package and hopefully it will be lost in the excitement of the announcement. I mean, you would have to be dumb not to see the change, but the politics is so beautiful. Get the punters onside and the Indonesian money will be lost in all the excitement.

  ‘You hope.’

  ‘It will be if it goes through next week.’

  ‘So what?’

  ‘It means paper trails offshore would be harder to follow if we get it done before Christmas. And, anyway, the money would have already gone to Indonesia – too late to get it back.’

  ‘How much more will you add for us?’ Margaret took her own selection of fruit from a dish.

  ‘I’ll need to talk to Amir.’

  ‘Will he be okay with the changes?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Gerrard picked out a piece of rockmelon and slipped it into his mouth, wiping his fingers on his serviette. ‘He is such a wheeler and dealer on anything that has a sniff of opportunity for him, but with this idea, I’m not so sure.’

  ‘He wants the money by March, right?’

  ‘It would be difficult to hide, but yes, it would be possible to get the money to him within days of the legislation passing the parliament.’

  ‘What are you really saying?’

  ‘We potentially expose ourselves. I’m concerned about how it will look.’

  ‘It’ll be okay, it always is.’ Margaret leaned forward and reassuringly stroked her despondent husband’s shoulder then eventually said, ‘So, if we give him the entire amount, why wouldn’t he reward us?’

  ‘I trust him, and it was his idea in the first place, so I’m confident he will agree to increasing our payout.’ Gerrard perked up and scooped omelette into his mouth. ‘We send the funds to Amir, hopefully, late next week. He then starts developing the first centre on Ambon, but skims off a commission to a bank in Switzerland via his normal laundering channels as previously agreed. By my reckoning, if we take one per cent, that should set us up with forty million.’

  ‘Are you serious?’

  ‘No-one will miss one per cent, if we do it right.’

  ‘Do you really trust him?’

  Gerrard smiled. ‘As much as I trust you, gorgeous. So, you’ll have to set up the bank account a little earlier than we expected.’

  ‘How much earlier?’

  ‘This week if you can.’

  ‘Will you get it up?’ Margaret was looking at her smirking husband. ‘The bill, I mean.’

  ‘I’ll tell the department to begin work on the roll-out of Christmas stimulus funds today. I’ll put it on the agenda for cabinet this morning, and hopefully announce the handout to the punters on Thursday. If Amir comes to the memorial on Friday, I’ll confirm the deal. We then put it into the house on Monday, and get it into the senate and back to the house by Thursday for final approval. We recess for Christmas Thursday evening, and I could announce my resignation and immediate retirement then in the House, or on Friday.’

  ‘Will you get the numbers to pass it?’

  ‘Harper will be okay. It’s O’Brien I’m worried about. I don’t need any delays from him, and we can’t afford any extra scrutiny by the parliament, so Zara needs to step up and keep him under control.’

  ‘Zara will do what she’s advised by O’Brien, surely?’ Margaret knew the clerk supervised the legislative program and would determine what was added to the parliamentary notice paper.

  ‘I have her under control, and she will ignore O’Brien. Her parliamentary career relies on her doing what I need her to do next week.’ Gerrard took a gulp of tea. Margaret did not miss the momentary hesitation. ‘I have lost too many speakers because of O’Brien. She’ll be okay, and she’ll do what I tell her.’

  ‘O’Brien won’t cause much grief. He’s out of the parliament in a week,’ Margaret said, as she finished picking at the fruit bowl. ‘Zara knows what she wants, but just be careful, darling. She may cut you loose if it gets too hot for her.’

  Gerrard began quickly tucking into the remains of the omelette; he needed to get moving. He was scheduled to appear on early-morning television.

  ‘I’ll keep you advised as I get through it all. Worst-case scenario is we only get the original four million next February, and I don’t retire,’ Gerrard said before rinsing his mouth with tea. ‘Can you begin some research for a bank? Remember, we don’t want to leave a paper trail.’

  ‘Leave it to me. I know exactly who I’ll talk to.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘No trails, darling. This is good news, the punters get a Christmas bonus, Immigration gets their offshore detention centres, Indonesia creates jobs for their people and we retire. It’s time. I’ve just about had enough. I may have been a socialist most of my life, but I can’t ignore my own needs.’ Margaret rubbed herself against her husband as they stood, and kissed him so he would remember. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

  ‘Saucy minx. See you tonight. Talk soon.’

  Gerrard headed for the
waiting car.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  TUESDAY 8.30 AM

  ‘Madam Speaker, good morning.’ O’Brien entered the office at the appointed time to discuss parliamentary business arrangements following the previous day’s events.

  ‘Good morning, Gordon. Such a tragedy, I still can’t believe it.’ Zara Bagshaw looked drawn and washed out, her face pale without her makeup, her hair pulled back tightly into a bun, her black dress fashionably cut to show off her body.

  ‘It is truly unfortunate and very sad, but we need to work through these priorities we have before us. I have staff waiting.’ O’Brien sat at the desk waiting for Zara to put down the newspaper.

  ‘What have you got for me?’ Zara asked.

  ‘I’ve spoken to the government and opposition suggesting we resume next Monday, and after consultation with their respective leadership groups they have agreed, although I suspect the prime minister would not have taken no for an answer – he seems keen for us to resume as quickly as possible. We will need to get the writs for the by-elections notified to the governor-general on Monday, which will allow us to have the elections in February. Based upon current polls they will return the government a majority, although I suspect they could lose a seat or two.’ O’Brien flicked through his notes.

  ‘I have spoken to the manager of government parliamentary business and strongly recommended to her that nothing controversial come before the parliament. She agreed and notified there is nothing on the legislative program to be brought forward that is not on the notice paper.’

  ‘What about the Appropriation Bill for funding the first stage of the Indonesian immigration detention centres?’

  ‘She thinks the legislation might be deferred until next year, but she is yet to receive direction from the prime minister. Apparently, there have been some mutterings from a few cabinet ministers about it and the details of the payments. I’m not sure what their concerns are, but they have a further cabinet meeting this morning where I suspect they will discuss it.’

  ‘If they defer the legislation, it will make things a little easier for all of us. But just in case, be aware the bill might come through next week, so allow suitable time for it.’

  O’Brien seemed taken aback by the speaker’s comment and took a note. ‘Does the opposition propose making the chamber process laborious for the government with suspension motions or other censure debates?’ asked Bagshaw.

  ‘I doubt it. Mr Harper understands that the current balance of votes going his way is only temporary, and that the government is likely to retain the numbers in February. He’s pragmatic enough to know there’s no need to force a change of government on the country for a few weeks.’

  Gordon referred to his notes. ‘His actual quote was, “We are not a European state, changing government every six months,” and he reassured me he will keep his people under control.’

  ‘Nice. When will we do condolences?’

  ‘I have set aside Monday for the prime minister and Mr Harper. The other members are scheduled for the Federation Chamber—’ O’Brien stopped abruptly and the speaker looked up. ‘You don’t think we should just close the representatives’ chamber for the rest of the week and allow members to speak there?’

  ‘I thought about it,’ Zara sighed as she slunk back in her chair, rocking it slightly. ‘I think the public would expect a period of parliamentary mourning, but then, they are a fickle bunch and no doubt would like to see their politicians back at work as soon as possible.’

  ‘I suppose we still need to get a number of money bills through, such as finalising the Commonwealth Supply Bill and getting it into the senate, otherwise hard-working public servants may not be paid before Christmas,’ O’Brien said.

  Bagshaw sat forward in her chair and leaned closer to O’Brien, twirling a pen in her fingers. ‘In the unlikely event the opposition passed a motion of no confidence and we were forced to move to a general election, what would you recommend I do?’

  O’Brien considered the point for a moment. ‘Stop any motion before it is moved. In other words, if the opposition begins setting the scene for an assault against the government, then refuse to allow them to speak. Worst case scenario, you shut the parliament down.’

  Zara sat silently considering O’Brien’s advice, then jotted something in her notebook. ‘What other legislation is due before we break next week?’

  ‘There is the amendment to the Competition and Consumer Act, the introduction of the Mining Royalties Act, and the government has also listed amendments to the Broadcasting Act to allow the digital media to televise the upcoming visit of the king.’

  ‘Remind me, why do we need the change for his royal highness?’ ‘The current act prohibits the direct telecast of the royal family unless supervised by a government official.’

  ‘Really?’ Zara was staggered.

  ‘I know, it seems antiquated, doesn’t it?’ O’Brien smiled. ‘Apparently when the queen visited soon after her coronation way back when – I think it was late in the 1950s, just after television was introduced to Australia – the Menzies government consented to a clause within the act to prescribe broadcasting of her visit on delayed transmission only. Since the advent of digital media streaming, there is a need to amend the legislation to accommodate the new viewing systems. Under the current legislation, it is illegal for anyone to record and stream a royal event. This amendment to the legislation allows those changes to be enacted and citizens can virtually upload any recording from their phones. Therefore, we may see the king on YouTube during his next official visit as it is happening.’

  ‘He’ll probably go viral,’ smirked Zara.

  ‘No doubt.’

  ‘Is he coming for the memorial service?’

  ‘Yet to be confirmed.’

  ‘Run me through your plans.’

  ‘We are considering two events, the first, a parliamentary memorial service this Friday, in the Great Hall. We thought it would provide an opportunity for the senators and members to reflect on the tragedy and grieve together. We’re expecting international dignitaries, some of whom have already contacted the government.’

  ‘Good word, “reflect”,’ sighed Zara.

  ‘We then thought we could have a formal memorial service in Sydney in around four weeks, if the government decides.’ O’Brien referred to his notes. ‘Individual funerals could start as early as Friday next week; it depends on the police releasing the bodies.’

  They talked for another twenty minutes about the plans for Friday’s parliamentary event and the protocols the speaker would need to address during the next few days. O’Brien referred to his notes on issues raised by the speaker, passing her papers for signature as required. Zara felt increasingly confident knowing that, as usual, all details would be well managed by the clerk, who brought the wisdom that came from forty years of dedicated service.

  Zara was the only woman O’Brien had served. He considered her tough and formidable when it came to getting her way over process and procedure, and he never took her for granted, as he might have done with some of the other speakers he served. Zara used the power of her position to control the house and ejected any member who did not abide by her standards. She never disciplined or punished the prime minister though – Gerrard was allowed to cajole and berate the opposition; his favourite sport.

  Zara learned to look for small gestures – a raised eyebrow, a nod – and listen for verbal clues to ensure the prime minister got what he wanted when he was on his feet at the despatch box. Sometimes she misread him, leading to sharp looks and harsh remarks, but more often than not she read Gerrard right. She had to succumb to him, otherwise she might lose her highly esteemed job.

  ‘Zara? The prime minister is on the phone.’ A staff member knocked tentatively on the open door, interrupting and thus ending her meeting with the clerk.

  ‘I’ll have to take that, Gordon,’ she said, rising and walking to the door.

  O’Brien followed her. ‘I was finish
ed anyway. Keep me in the loop if advice from the prime minister’s office changes. In the meantime, I will begin communicating with members and senators about Friday, and get the invitations out to the embassies.’

  Zara left O’Brien as he walked through to the anteroom, returning to her office and closing the heavy door behind her, skipping back to her desk.

  ‘Hi Andrew, how are you this morning?’ Zara said with a big smile.

  ‘Good morning, gorgeous. Thanks for dropping by last night. Always nice to re-engage with you.’ Gerrard was polite. ‘Can we talk business?’

  ‘Yeah, sure, go ahead.’ Zara knew her standing in the relationship with the prime minister. There was no relationship.

  ‘I want to make doubly sure we have the house open for business on Monday. I may be adding an Appropriation Bill.’

  ‘I’ve already talked with the clerk about the current parliamentary notice paper, and if the government introduces legislation on Monday, we should be able to get it through both houses before we rise on Thursday.’ Zara flopped into her chair, sighed slightly and prepared to take notes. ‘What other funding do you need to get through?’

  ‘I’m taking a decision to cabinet this morning to bestow some cash on the punters before Christmas.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I think the economy might fall into a funk with the news of the tragedy, especially with the thought that by-elections early next year could lead to a change of government.’ Gerrard knew it would be to his advantage to have others sharing his view of potential economic doom and gloom. ‘I thought if we provided a substantial stimulus to the punters then they would have a very merry Christmas, and the economy would not suffer as much as we might expect.’

  ‘You are very generous, Prime Minister, but how much do you think the appropriation will be?’

  ‘Does it matter?’