Deceit

by Richard Evans

  ‘There was only one catch,’ Harper replied.

  ‘You had to agree,’ Hughes said.

  ‘Not only that, but I also had to agree that censure motions, or other destabilising votes, would not be taken in the parliament this week – there would be no calls for a formal count of votes at all.’

  ‘Why are we even sitting?’ Hughes asked.

  ‘Exactly. You should have told them to go fuck themselves.’ Campbell was a clever politician, but sometimes engaged his mouth before his brain.

  ‘I considered it, but that was when I understood why Hancock was there. Gerrard needed his support in the media – and if he had it, the media groups would follow. Mind you, if I didn’t comply to this idea of a caretaker government then we would have been pilloried.’

  ‘What were his conditions?’ Hughes asked.

  ‘As I said, to not have any divisions, other than on the Appropriation Bill, which he said we could reject if we wanted to.’

  ‘But Gerrard said you have already agreed,’ said Hughes.

  ‘I assume we are not going to block a cash handout pre-Christmas, and before crucial by-elections, when we could possibly finally win government. We can’t not approve it, otherwise it will kill us in the polls and at the election,’ Harper said.

  ‘So what happened to the funds they were talking about for the Indonesians?’ Barton asked.

  ‘I’m not sure. Your briefing on Saturday morning helped me a little, so when I raised it, Gerrard said he had changed his mind, and would put it through after the elections in February.’

  ‘Why?’ Barton asked.

  ‘I didn’t even consider it to be honest. We have already agreed to it in a bipartisan sense, in the budget, so funding it next year will no doubt be part of our policy. I see no issue around when it gets paid. Although it’s better that we control it, if we get into government.’

  ‘So why publicly sign an agreement? asked Hughes.

  ‘And why didn’t you refer to us before you did?’ Campbell added.

  ‘Well, we were all sitting around discussing the events of last week enjoying breakfast when the speaker says her goodbyes, it’s getting on to nine o’clock and she has a meeting apparently, and the whole tone of the meeting changed.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ asked Stanley.

  ‘Gerrard suddenly gets serious and asks Sheldon for a file. Not only was there a reason for Hancock to be there as a witness, Sheldon from PM and C was also there for a reason. He tabled the agreement for all of us to consider.’

  ‘Now I understand,’ Stanley said. ‘You were set up, beautifully.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ asked Hughes.

  ‘If James had agreed, which he had no choice about, given the governor-general’s comment, then no matter what the agreement said, he was bound by his agreement to sign it. Classic Gerrard.’

  ‘It gets worse.’ Harper now had his tea and biscuit, slipped to him surreptitiously by his staffer, and he took a quick sip. ‘As we were breaking up, after I had signed the initial first document, Gerrard quietly asked me to follow him for a quick chat in his courtyard. What do you think I was thinking when we walked out into a press conference?’

  ‘Fuck me.’ Campbell expressed it for all of them.

  ‘Exactly.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  MONDAY 9.30 AM

  Gordon thought it unusual for the speaker to be so chirpy, and so correct, so early in the morning. How did she know about the announcement, and why had the legislation been changed? Did it have anything to do with her late-night meeting at parliament? These were questions that perplexed him as Marjorie entered his office with his peppermint tea.

  ‘How was your weekend, Gordon? Tell me you got away.’ Marjorie placed the cup and its saucer before him.

  ‘Unfortunately not. I worked on a project or two. I have too much to do, and too little time I’m afraid. Although, I must admit, I am a little hazy after last night.’ Gordon was thankful for the interlude, and sat back in his chair, beckoning his faithful assistant to sit. ‘My neighbour dragged me out for a quick bite, and perhaps I had too many chardonnays.’

  ‘Well, your tea may help, if I understand you correctly. How’s the head?’

  ‘A bit tender I’m afraid, but I had a Berocca before leaving this morning and I think I’m slowly coming good.’

  ‘It’s a rare thing to see you enjoying yourself, Gordon. I’m pleased you were able to get out with a friend, even if was just for a few hours.’

  ‘It’s been a tough week, so let’s hope this next week is different.’

  ‘Well, there are only a few days left. Let’s try and keep the workload down and concentrate on enjoying what time we have together.’

  ‘Ah, Marjorie, you are so good for me, and that’s what I’m trying to do, but these political dills around here are making it hard for me.’

  ‘No, they’re not. It’s you who’s making it hard for yourself.’ ‘There is just one last nagging issue with the government’s stimulus package.’

  ‘Why should you care what they do this week? The department can look after things. Richard is on top of everything.’

  ‘As you know, I spoke to the speaker late Friday, and she advised me the government wanted to add the stimulus funds to the Supply Bill. I told her they couldn’t do it, of course.’

  ‘Didn’t you suggest a separate bill?’

  ‘Yes I did, so I spoke to treasury and their response was that there was no problem with them agreeing to it so long as they see the legislation prior to it being tabled.’ Gordon sipped his tea. ‘But remember the money for the immigration centres was also being forced through by the government? Anyway, I rang the drafting office on Saturday, to determine if the government had decided to put the two money bills in together, and they advised me they had, and they were drafting legislation for around ten billion.’

  ‘What’s the problem? That was your original suggestion.’

  ‘I’m not sure. The speaker just advised me this morning that the immigration money was no longer in the Appropriation Bill that was being drafted.’

  ‘That’s a good thing then, isn’t it? That’s what you wanted, so you win again.’ Marjorie smiled broadly, and silently clapped her hands.

  ‘I suppose so, but the prime minister also asked James Harper not to cause any disruption in the house this week, and that concerns me because he formalised it with a signed agreement. Unheard of, really.’

  ‘Gordon, these are all good things I would have thought. You need to relax and stop thinking something is going on, when clearly there is nothing untoward happening.’

  Gordon’s mobile shrilled. ‘Hello, Gordon O’Brien.’

  ‘Mr O’Brien, it’s George.’

  ‘Yes, George.’

  ‘She visited the PM’s private suite at 7.25, and left at around 11.45. I have photos.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll chat later.’ Gordon slipped his phone back inside his jacket pocket. ‘Well, thanks for the chat, Marjorie. You’re quite right about Richard, he’ll be a great clerk, probably better than me.’

  ‘Sooner or later you will come to realise that your service to the parliament has been significant,’ Marjorie said. ‘But now, it’s almost over, and this week should be a relaxing time for you. Enjoy the moment, it’s almost time to move on.’

  ‘To what exactly?’ Gordon looked at his assistant, his mind racing with George’s news.

  ‘You have your fishing.’

  ‘Yes, I do love the thrill of the catch, but I doubt it will excite me quite like the daily challenges I’ve faced here over the years.’

  ‘Write a book then. You must know all the secrets of this place, so it’s sure to be a bestseller.’

  ‘Too many secrets I’m afraid, and they will have to stay secret, although I have thought about writing another edition of Parliamentary Practice.’

  ‘Boring! Can there be anything as boring as that book?’ Marjorie began to move off, obviously not a fan of books on parliamen
tary procedure.

  ‘Cheeky possum.’

  ‘Gordon, can I ask that you just deal with that pile of papers, and I’ll pass all the rest on to Richard. I’ve been doing that sort of thing for the past month, anyway. You should even consider not going into the house at all this week and leave it to Richard, although I suspect they have valedictories planned for you on Thursday.’

  ‘You’re right, as always, Marjorie.’ Gordon smiled. ‘I should just float about the place and do nothing.’

  ‘Now you’re talking. Enjoy your tea while it’s hot, and I’ll hold calls for an hour.’

  Gordon sipped his tea and reflected upon the activities of the last week. It would have been easier to close the parliament and wait until the by-election results were in to determine if there was to be a new government. He wondered why it was necessary to even have this week of extended sittings. The government could have passed the Supply Bill and their stimulus package today, and had it rushed through the senate, then deferred the rest of the parliamentary business until February.

  Gordon leaned back in his chair and pulled his tea closer, closing his eyes for a restful moment.

  ‘Excuse me, Gordon.’ Marjorie had returned after an hour, which to Gordon seemed but a moment. ‘Meredith Bruce is here to see you about the notice paper for the week. She wants to discuss timing.’

  Gordon quickly collected himself and sat straighter in his chair; his tea remained untouched. ‘Please ask her in.’ He stood to greet the manager of government business, exchanging pleasantries before offering her a seat on his lounge as he sat nearby.

  ‘Gordon, I have just met with the parliament’s selection committee and we have come up with a draft program for the week. We are seeking your advice.’

  ‘There should be nothing controversial, given we aren’t taking divisions.’ Gordon took the document Bruce had proffered and scanned the program.

  ‘That’s true, but there is plenty of work to get through.’ Bruce had been appointed just six months ago, having been elevated to the ministry in a Gerrard reshuffle. Gordon originally considered her a favourite of Gerrard’s, being groomed by him as he had groomed other female colleagues only to discard them later when they failed to meet his exacting standards. But as the months passed, she showed she was a very capable parliamentary performer in getting through the government’s program on her own terms. As a former criminal lawyer, she’d no doubt had plenty of experience with similar shady types, Gordon thought wryly. ‘As previously agreed, we will move the Condolence Motion to the Federation Chamber to allow as many of those who wish to speak to do so. We consider the speeches important, but we should not tie up the main chamber.’

  ‘What legislation do you plan to work on for the rest of the week?’

  ‘We plan to have the appropriation legislation back into the house on Thursday, about an hour before question time, for formal assent. We have allocated one hour.’

  ‘Why an hour? Surely if it’s coming back from the senate and it’s previously been approved, then there’s no need to have time allocated. Isn’t it just a procedural reading?’

  ‘Just in case.’ Bruce shifted in her chair.

  ‘In case of what? It’s a money bill and the senate can’t amend it. In case of what, Meredith?’ Gordon saw that Bruce was a little uncomfortable with the question.

  ‘The prime minister has asked me to allocate the time, and Messenger has agreed, so we have it in the program.’

  ‘Why does the prime minister feel the need to have time allocated to a procedural matter?’

  ‘Maybe he wants to talk to the legislation again. The point is this: the prime minister wants it, the opposition agreed, so we scheduled it.’

  Gordon didn’t like the answer and stared at Bruce. She averted her eyes, looked back, and quickly averted them again.

  ‘What’s going on, Meredith?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Bruce fell back in the leather lounge, crossed her legs, and then her arms tightly across her chest. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Forgive me for questioning you and perhaps being a little overly vigilant, but I want to ensure we follow procedure.’ Gordon stood, walked behind his desk and sat, putting distance between himself and Bruce so she could relax. ‘We have had an unbelievable tragedy, which has led to a minority government until by-elections can be held next year. Rather than close the parliament out of respect for the dead, we stay operating to get a cash splash approved for the community. We then have the opposition publicly agreeing not to call for a vote or take a division, which is unprecedented in itself, and now you are putting it to me that there could be further debate on an Appropriation Bill at assent, after it has already been agreed to by the senate. I am a little confused.’

  ‘Gordon, relax, there is no ruse, nothing dodgy going on. We are just managing the parliament, and allowing for potential timing issues.’

  ‘Timing issues? The senate cannot add to or amend a money bill, yet you are putting into the program time to address any amendments, and therefore suggesting the possibility that the senate might amend the bill.’

  ‘No, that’s not true.’

  ‘Not true?’ Gordon stood up and returned to Bruce. ‘How is it that, until this morning’s announcements by the prime minister, four billion dollars for funding detention centres in Indonesia was included in the original drafting of the bill, which has now magically vanished.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t like your tone.’ Bruce seemed genuinely ignorant about the four billion. ‘The only draft I have received was for six billion for the stimulus package. What detention-centre funding?’

  ‘On Saturday I was advised by a drafting clerk that he was asked to prepare legislation that appropriated six billion for the stimulus cash splash, and four billion for the Indonesians for their immigration centres.’

  ‘News to me.’

  ‘Are you playing me, Meredith?’ O’Brien stared at her, and she shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

  ‘I can assure you, Gordon, the only advice I have received from the PM and C, and the drafting office, is for the six billion Appropriation Bill. I don’t know what you are talking about.’

  ‘Then, I respectfully suggest you investigate the matter, because it seems to me there is indeed something going on, and we may all be being played.’

  ‘I can only put to you what I know, and what I have received from the drafting office.’ Bruce seemed confused.

  ‘Why all the secrecy with regards to this bill?’

  ‘What secrecy?’ Bruce sat forward, collected her papers and slipped her glasses back on. ‘Yet another conspiracy, Gordon?’

  ‘It seems there’s a bipartisan agreement about the funds to the Indonesians – one minute we’re giving them the entire amount, the next minute we’re not.’ Gordon sat down near Bruce. ‘So, again I ask, what is going on, Meredith?’

  ‘Gordon, I suspect you are overreaching yourself. There is little, or indeed no evidence for any political conspiracy.’ Bruce made a few notes to prompt herself later. ‘And you’re probably right, the Indonesian money has already been approved anyway and will no doubt be paid early next year. So why this drama now? It makes no sense and I doubt anyone has drafted the legislation as you suggest.’

  ‘Let’s check, shall we?’ Gordon moved back to his desk, picked up the phone and punched in a number. As he waited for the connection he stared at Meredith, looking for any sign of uncertainty. ‘Hello, it’s Gordon O’Brien here, could I speak to Robert Haworth please?’ Nothing, he saw nothing at all in Meredith’s response to his phone call. ‘He what? When? When is he due back?’ When he got his answer, Gordon hung up. ‘That’s very odd.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Robert Haworth is on some sort of approved leave until next week – overseas apparently.’

  ‘What’s odd about that?’

  ‘I approve all leave and travel arrangements for all members, their families and parliamentary staff, and I haven’t s
igned, nor even sighted for that matter, his request for leave.’

  ‘Maybe you overlooked it.’

  ‘Don’t you think it strange that the person charged with writing this appropriation legislation is conveniently on leave this week and virtually uncontactable? He specifically told me it was being drafted for ten billion dollars, and now he’s disappeared.’

  When the parliamentary bells stopped ringing, the speaker was in her place in the chamber of the House of Representatives. The large teak chair and desk on the platform was more like a throne than a place from which parliamentary proceedings were managed. Her desk was set up so that she could access parliamentary papers digitally and read them when required. Before her lay the daily proceedings list. To open the parliament, she recited the Lord’s Prayer, as she did on every sitting day, and everyone settled into their places. She called the prime minister, standing at the despatch box, who moved a condolence motion about the untimely and tragic deaths of eight members of the parliament. Prime Minister Gerrard spoke eloquently and reminded the house of the achievements of each of the parliamentarians killed the previous week, only stumbling a little when he spoke at last of his long-time friend, Fred Rocher. He reminisced about their time together in their first term of parliament, the practical jokes they used to play, once dressing in a chicken suit and being judged unparliamentary. Gerrard’s speech was full of pathos mixed with humour. It was the speech of a statesman and Gordon was impressed with the emotion Gerrard evoked.

  James Harper spoke in similar terms, only stumbling when he spoke of his young colleague Martin Downer – a first-term parliamentarian – whose wife had given birth to their first child just two months earlier, and the tragedy of his young daughter Nadia growing up without her father.

  When Harper finished his speech, Meredith Bruce stood at the despatch box to ask that debate on the motion be adjourned and further debate on the Condolence Motion be allowed to be made in the Federation Chamber. The speaker put the question, issuing the first call for a vote, and it was passed on the voices, without anyone paying attention.