Deceit

by Richard Evans

  ‘Not possible, I’m afraid. It’s against parliamentary practice and wouldn’t hold up if challenged.’

  ‘What’s it got to do with parliamentary practice?’

  ‘Practice clearly states that Supply Bills are used to provide monies from the Consolidated Revenue Fund to pay public servants and so on.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘An Appropriation Bill is used for the purposes of funding special projects, such as was announced by the prime minister yesterday, therefore the stimulus funding would need its own specific legislation.’

  ‘Is there no other way we can ensure it happens?’

  ‘Speaker, all we need to do is prepare separate legislation setting out the six billion in payments.’

  ‘Well, as I said, it could be more than that figure. Can it be done in time for Monday?’

  ‘If the drafting office works on it over the weekend, we can have it in parliament on Monday for a first and second reading. It then goes to the senate, perhaps Tuesday at the latest, and then back in the house on Wednesday or Thursday for final assent.’ Gordon paused. ‘How much extra money does the government want to put through?’

  Zara ignored the question. ‘Will there be a problem getting it through both houses before the end of next week?’

  ‘The government needs the support of the opposition, and I am not sure they will take kindly to further expenditure at this late stage of the process.’

  ‘We have to get the stimulus package through the parliament next week; an awful lot depends on it,’ Zara said, her voice quivering ever so slightly. Everyone listening noticed the tremor.

  Gordon lowered his voice, leaning closer to the phone, ‘Why the late change, Speaker?’ Process and parliamentary protocol were always his concern, but he sensed his colleague was troubled. Marjorie quickly stood and ushered the others out as Gordon picked up the handpiece. ‘The government has already identified six billion for the handout, so how much extra are we talking?’

  ‘Four billion, but tell no-one,’ Bagshaw quickly whispered.

  ‘For what?’ Gordon was startled by the amount.

  ‘It’s to build the offshore immigration centres in Indonesia. The government wants them to begin construction immediately, and therefore the Indonesians have said they need the entire forecasted amount brought forward. Some deal has been done with the president earlier today, apparently.’

  ‘Speaker, this is highly inappropriate; it does not please me to hear this news.’

  ‘I suppose there are valid reasons, Gordon.’

  ‘The government already has four hundred million in the parliament on the notice paper as a part payment, the first of four. What will happen to that legislation?’

  ‘It will be withdrawn.’

  ‘I cannot allow this to happen, Speaker.’

  ‘Why would you be concerned? The immigration centre money was in the forward estimates when the federal budget was approved by the parliament last May, so the idea of the funding should not be an issue. The stimulus package has been announced and agreed to by the opposition, so what is your problem with this, Gordon?’

  ‘Timing, and the rush to get things through during a period of parliamentary uncertainty.’

  ‘Can the senate amend the Supply Bill to make it easier for everyone?’

  ‘Not really. They have amended money bills in the past, but these have all been rejected when they came back to the house.’ Gordon ran his fingers through his hair and scratched the nape of his neck. ‘As you know, the senate is all about reviewing legislation; it cannot initiate money bills and, for that matter, rarely amends government money bills.’ Gordon paused, waiting for the speaker to respond. He could hear her breathing into the mouthpiece, but she did not answer.

  ‘This is a little inappropriate wouldn’t you say, Speaker? The initial four hundred million was only for seed funding to commence one centre on Ambon, with a further three payments made annually. Now the government wants the whole lot to go through, linked to a dubious stimulus package?’ Gordon surmised he wasn’t being told everything. ‘Why can’t they just amend the initial immigration expenditure legislation enacting the centres, which is on the current notice paper?’

  ‘The prime minister wants to combine the two funds into one bill and has asked me to make it happen this way before Christmas, so we are obliged to meet the government’s need.’

  ‘Why now? It seems a little hasty, don’t you think, given we only have a week before the summer break of parliament? The government doesn’t have the numbers, and work is not scheduled to begin on any site by the Indonesians until early next year.’ Gordon waited, but there was no response. ‘What’s this all about, Speaker?’

  ‘The PM wants the Christmas bonus for the punters to hit bank accounts in two weeks, and he wants his promise to build immigration centres acted on before the by-elections in February.’ Zara said. ‘It’s not unreasonable, given he has been promising action on this policy for some time.’

  ‘Has treasury approved it?’

  ‘The prime minister didn’t say. He only said to ensure I make it happen. This means I am directing you to make it happen.’

  ‘This is highly irregular, and I want it recorded that I am against this un-parliamentary procedure.’

  ‘So recorded.’

  ‘Send the legislation over when it’s done, and I shall look at it.’

  ‘Good night, Gordon.’

  Gordon softly replaced the receiver, and fell back into his chair, rocking and thinking. Marjorie entered, closing the door behind her and taking her seat in front of Gordon, waiting for direction.

  ‘You look as if that was bad news,’ Marjorie said, breaking the silence.

  ‘I’m annoyed with what I’ve just been told, to be perfectly honest with you.’ Gordon sat up, swung his chair into the desk and looked at his confidante. ‘Not sure why, but I think something untoward may be happening that could compromise the parliament.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘The government wants to bulldoze the stimulus package through next week, and at the same time, they want to increase the proposed funding for the Indonesian immigration detention centres, apparently to accommodate the Indonesians, so work can start immediately. This would not normally cause a problem for anyone, given the Indonesian funding is already approved and it is a bipartisan agreement, but the funds are significant.’

  ‘I’m sure they wouldn’t be doing it unless the government funds were needed to begin construction.’

  ‘I’m not so sure about that. It appears hurried to me. Why the sudden rush by the Indonesians less than a week after they agreed to a four-payment deal? I wonder if treasury has looked at it.’

  ‘What has changed this week?’

  Gordon didn’t have an answer, but wondered aloud. ‘Of course, there was the tragedy, and there is no actual guarantee that the government will win their seats again at the by-elections. Who knows how the electors will vote? If they don’t get them back, they’ll lose government.’

  ‘Why should you worry?’

  ‘If I don’t, Marjorie, who will?’ Gordon pushed back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head.

  ‘Don’t the politicians run the parliament?’

  Gordon humphed and sat back into his desk. ‘These folks come to this place inspired to do good work, but they always get seduced by self-interest. They don’t care about this money. It means nothing to them, only votes.’

  ‘Surely, they care.’

  ‘They only care about what their voters think. If voters want a problem solved, then politicians will spend as much taxpayer money as they need to, to get it done. Millions or billions of dollars are only words to these people.’

  Marjorie studied the anguished look on her boss’s face for a moment. ‘You only have a week to go before all of this is behind you. Stop worrying.’

  ‘You are my rock sometimes, Marjorie.’

  ‘Go home and enjoy the weekend.’

  �
��I will, once I speak to Messenger. Can you track him down for me please?

  ‘You look gorgeous.’

  ‘And, hello to you to.’ Anita offered her cheek as Barton bent to kiss her.

  ‘Sorry I’m late.’ Barton sat opposite and unravelled his napkin, draping it across his lap. ‘I had a few things to tidy up and I got stuck on a media call – you know how it is.’

  ‘Yes, I do know how it is.’ Anita continued with their game. ‘This is why I don’t think getting into a friendship with you is a good idea.’

  ‘Well, I was hoping for a little more than friendship.’

  ‘Yes, I bet you were.’ Anita studied her menu. ‘I believe the duck is good.’

  ‘The what is good?’ Barton asked, provoking a smile from across the table.

  ‘The duck.’

  ‘Oh, I must have misheard you.’

  ‘Yes, of course you did.’ She didn’t raise her eyes – a smiling Barton Messenger was irresistible.

  Anita had suggested they meet at the Ottoman, a high-class restaurant that catered for the politically powerful. She didn’t want to be seen with Messenger in a secluded romantic bistro, even though she might have preferred it, or the gossips would have the meeting on twitter by morning and her links to her many confidantes would be threatened. Journalists need to work both sides of the political fence, and jeopardising trust was the first law of ineffective journalism. She knew that having dinner with Messenger, the opposition’s manager of parliamentary business, in Canberra’s most political restaurant was a good idea.

  The clatter of plates and the rich background music masked hushed political conversations. Many schemes and political coups had been formulated on the trendy stiffened paper that protected the expensive Turkish linen table cloths from wine and food stains.

  A number of politicians were scattered around the eatery, some enjoying what seemed to be a wake for lost colleagues, while others were in quiet conversation, checking over their shoulders for eavesdroppers. One or two media gallery members were also engaged in these quiet conversations, and Anita was optimistic her ruse of dinner with Messenger would not be uncovered.

  ‘Would you like a wine?’ Barton was keen to engage in conversation, but seemed nervous.

  ‘A dry white would be nice, perhaps a sauvignon blanc. You choose. What are you going to eat?’

  ‘I think I might go with some lentils … or perhaps the rabbit.’ A waiter appeared at his side and he ordered a Marlborough sauvignon blanc with Turkish bread and a variety of dips for starters.

  His dinner date seemed impressed with his choice, put her menu aside and leaned in to the table. ‘Barton, I wanted to talk to you further about this immigration detention centre funding.’

  Barton interrupted and waved his hand. ‘I thought we’d be having a quiet dinner together, as so-called friends, and all you want to do is talk about work. I wish you’d warned me.’

  ‘That’s totally not fair. You know this place has ears as big as Dumbo the elephant. I’m hoping to get them focused elsewhere.’ Anita responded. ‘You just sat down. We have lots of eyes on us, no doubt trying to lip-read what we are talking about. So, Einstein, do you think we start with a little work before we move on?’

  ‘Move on to where?’ Barton wanted an answer, but was not getting one. ‘Cat got your tongue?’

  ‘Don’t make this harder than it should be.’ Anita picked up her glass of water and Barton saw that her hand was trembling slightly.

  ‘Okay, what do you want to know?’

  ‘Bart, I’m sorry. I’m nervous about being here with you. I don’t want to start any gossip about us.’

  ‘Why would you care? You’re just here doing your job, aren’t you? ‘

  No.’

  The waiter arrived with the wine, but the couple did not avert their eyes from each other. Barton waved the waiter on, who then carefully poured wine into the glasses, placing the bottle into a nearby ice bucket and left. Barton lifted his glass for a toast and Anita responded by softly clinking his glass with her own, their eyes still locked.

  ‘If I live to be a hundred, I will never forget this moment,’ Barton said.

  ‘You are such a politician.’ Anita smiled, sipped her wine and returned to the menu. ‘I think I may have the duck.’

  Suddenly, Messenger’s phone buzzed. He reached into his jacket and withdrew it to check if it was an important call. Anita looked up as he realised he would have to take it.

  ‘I won’t be a moment.’ Barton quickly got up and answered as he hurried toward the front door to escape the noise. ‘Hello, Barton Messenger.’

  Gordon O’Brien apologised for the lateness of the hour, but asked if Barton would have the patience to return to the parliament for a meeting. He understood if this could not happen, but he would not be asking unless it was important.

  ‘I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Can you send a car to the Ottoman?’

  Messenger looked through the restaurant window as he put his phone back into his jacket, wishing the call had never arrived. He would have time for a glass of wine and some dips, which had been delivered to the table. He watched Anita as she gazed about the room. Her long dark hair was flowing over her bare shoulders, free from its usual restraints. Her red dress complemented her dark Mediterranean complexion, and her tanned legs were graced with perfect black stilettos, such a contrast to the sneakers she was never out of around the parliament. She had provided him with so much pleasure, and now he was squashing it before it could develop further.

  ‘That was O’Brien, he needs to see me.’ Barton sat and sipped his wine before tearing off some bread to taste the dips.

  ‘Well, you must go,’ Anita announced immediately. ‘We can do this another time … hopefully in another place.’

  ‘You are wonderful. I feel dreadful about leaving you.’

  ‘Barton, get over yourself, will you. O’Brien needs to see you. He would never call unless it was important.’ Anita seemed to know she needed to help him. ‘Just make sure I get the exclusive on whatever story he wants to discuss with you.’

  ‘I need to get back to Melbourne early tomorrow for meetings in my electorate, but can I see you next week?’

  ‘You’ll see me.’

  ‘No, I mean, can I see you?’

  ‘And, as I just told you, you will definitely see me.’

  ‘Should we kiss goodbye?’ Messenger drained his glass.

  ‘Are you serious?’ Messenger stood to leave. ‘No, but, you can kiss me hello next week … maybe.’ Anita smiled broadly as she watched him shrug, softly wave, then leave.

  Gordon sat at his desk, his office dimly lit by his ornate desk lamp. Messenger knocked and Gordon beckoned him in to sit.

  ‘The service was very good today, Gordon, thank you for your efforts.’

  ‘Not just my efforts, Mr Messenger, the team performed very well during a very difficult and stressful time. The loss of the deputy speaker has hit the team hard, as has losing the others, of course.’

  ‘What is so urgent that you needed to talk to me tonight?’ Barton still harboured some resentment about being called from his dinner.

  ‘I have been advised by the government that they want to add more money to the government Supply Bill, to allow for the stimulus package they announced.’

  ‘What?’ Messenger was confused. ‘They can’t do that; we’ve completed second reading speeches.’

  ‘That’s what I advised the government. I have suggested a separate Appropriation Bill for the stimulus package.’

  ‘That idea makes sense, and it would be our preferred process. We can talk to the funding in detail.’

  ‘They also want to add more funds, other than the stimulus cash.’

  ‘Why, for what?’

  ‘It seems they want the entire allocated funding for the offshore detention centres to be transferred to the Indonesians, which was agreed in the budget, to allow construction to begin immediately.’

  ‘I would have tho
ught that could be covered by an amendment to the Immigration Appropriation Bill. It’s on the notice paper, but it’s not due now until early next year, given the state of the parliamentary numbers. Our team still want to debate it.’

  ‘The government are asking for a little more than the four hundred million, I’m afraid.’

  ‘How much is a little more?’

  ‘The prime minister wants the project’s fully allocated four billion dollars to be transferred in one transaction, and wants it all approved within a new Appropriation Bill that will come before the parliament next week. He tried to get it into the Supply Bill but that wasn’t possible, so now they will bring a new money bill in on Monday, to be approved by both houses of parliament before week’s end.’

  Messenger sat quietly, slowly nodding his head as he thought through the various options open to the opposition. ‘We will vote it down.’

  ‘Mr Harper has already committed the opposition to agree to the cash stimulus being provided to the community before Christmas, and these immigration detention centre funds will be added to that figure, taking it to ten billion.’

  ‘I understand that, but we will not be voting for it.’

  ‘The prime minister has given a direction that this will need to happen next week, and I have been advised by the drafting office that they are already preparing legislation with the increased funds for tabling on Monday.’

  ‘I question the validity of the entire proposal.’ Messenger was now considering the politics associated with the request.

  ‘The opposition leader has provided support for the stimulus payments, and he has agreed on not forcing any votes. So, I am not sure what the problem is.’ Gordon was just as concerned as Messenger about the process, but he was required to do what had been requested of him.

  ‘The problem is, Mr O’Brien, we do not approve of the legislative process for this funding, nor the poor timing, ramming it through the parliament without sufficient scrutiny or debate. There is no need for a sudden rush. We will approve the stimulus, but we will not approve the Indonesian funds. What are they doing with the current bill on the notice paper for the initial four hundred million in funding they wanted approved before the accident changed everything?’