Deceit

by Richard Evans

  Gerrard was momentarily distracted by the sudden withdrawal of the speaker, and stopped talking, turning quickly to refer to Meredith Bruce, who sat behind him on the bench. Twenty seconds remained on the speaker’s clock. Once the prime minister had finished his speech, the speaker would normally announce the legislation had been read a third time and call for the motion to be agreed to, but now an opposition member was in the chair. Just a few more seconds until the vote was to be taken to approve the legislation funding the immigration detention centres and providing punters with a celebratory Christmas bonus, and sending the Gerrards to a very comfortable French retirement, but the speaker wasn’t in the chair. The opposition had the numbers – and now control of the chamber.

  Gerrard leaned in to Bruce, hissing in her ear. ‘What the hell is she up to? We need her in here. We can’t take a vote yet with them in the chair.’

  ‘I’ll extend your time, relax. She’ll be back.’ Bruce was quick to the despatch box and Gerrard stood, a little bewildered, beside her.

  ‘I move that the speaker’s time be extended five minutes.’

  ‘The question is, that the speaker’s time be extended by five minutes. All those in favour say aye, the contrary no, I think the ayes have it. The prime minister’s time is extended five minutes.’

  Stanley and Messenger, who had resumed their seats at the table in readiness, sat a little perplexed as they watched the speaker leave and Gerrard request extra time. Stanley again, nervously, glanced through his intended statement to the house.

  Speaker Bagshaw anxiously entered the vestibule to find the governor-general, the chief justice, the clerk, three security officers and attendants, and George Nikolaos lurking by the door to stop anyone from the chamber joining them.

  ‘Your Excellency, this note said you needed to see me urgently, how can I help?’

  ‘The chief justice would like a word.’

  Hopetoun stood rigid, arms by his sides, hands held stiffly like a military officer at attention, the envelope gripped in his left hand. ‘Madam Speaker, I have strong and overwhelming evidence that your recent behaviour in the house, and elsewhere, has brought the parliament into disrepute.’ He raised the envelope above his head as if shading himself from the sun. ‘It is my considered view – and I have the concurrence of the governor-general – that you should immediately resign your elected position, and revoke your commission. Should you not resign forthwith, I will instruct these security officers to take you into custody to await federal law officers to attend and lay serious charges of fraud and conspiracy upon you.’

  ‘What’s going on?’ Bagshaw’s knees buckled slightly, but she steadied herself, looking to Gordon for support and getting none. ‘What evidence?’ she said hoarsely, forcing the words out.

  ‘I have compromising photographic evidence of you allegedly acting inappropriately in the discharge of your duties with the prime minister.’ Hopetoun began opening the envelope, and fanning photographs as he partially pulled them out, before pushing them back. ‘These photographs, along with a deeply concerning security report, add weight to these alleged conspiracy charges against you. That you, jointly with the prime minister, hope to defraud the Commonwealth of Australia of significant money, specifically in the appropriation legislation currently before the house.’

  ‘What?’ Bagshaw laughingly stammered, her mouth agape.

  ‘Furthermore, I am of the strong view that you have failed to discharge your duties as an impartial officer of the parliament.’

  ‘This can’t be right.’ Bagshaw shook her head as tears welled in her eyes. ‘Gordon, what’s going on?’

  Hopetoun continued, as Gordon avoided her pleading eyes. ‘You also failed to alter your behaviour when challenged by an aggrieved opposition leadership group earlier today. You have had total disregard for the processes of the parliament, and applied biased interpretations on your rulings. You have failed to interpret the parliamentary standing orders correctly, and you have neglected the rights, and privileges, of elected members of the parliament.’

  ‘I was just doing what I was asked to do by the prime minister,’ Bagshaw said softly. ‘I was doing my job.’

  ‘We understand that, Zara, but this is what you now must do.’ The governor-general stepped forward and laid a hand on her arm. ‘You must resign or be charged with these offences. It is one or the other; there are no other options. My preference is that you resign, immediately.’

  ‘I just wanted to do my job, for my people.’

  The chief justice held a red folder before Bagshaw, pulling from it a stark white document with the seal of the chief justice emblazoned upon it. ‘I present you with a formal letter of resignation under the seal of the chief justice. I wish you now to sign it, otherwise these commissioned officers will act to take you into custody and hold you until the federal police formally charge you with fraud and conspiracy.’

  She hesitated only a moment, but all the fight had gone out of her. She took the proffered pen and signed the paper.

  ‘What happens to the current sitting?’ Bagshaw asked.

  ‘That is no longer your concern, Ms Bagshaw.’ Hopetoun snapped back the folder. ‘I’ll have your robe also.’ Bagshaw took off her robe and passed it to him, and was led off to her office by a security officer and a parliamentary attendant.

  Hopetoun passed the robe to Gordon, who tentatively put it on. The chief justice also passed him the resignation letter and the proclamation delivered by a breathless Marjorie a few minutes earlier, now signed by the governor-general, and opened the manila file with the prepared writs for signing at the appropriate time. As Gordon steadied himself at the door, sucking two deep breaths into his lungs, Hopetoun said, ‘Good luck, Gordon. We will be here when you get back.’

  As Gerrard began his concluding remarks about his wonderfully generous government, Gordon entered the chamber and stepped up into the chair. ‘Make way, please, Mr Edmunds.’

  A stunned silence settled over the chamber as Edmunds made his way back to his seat and the clerk stood before the parliament. Members did not know how to respond. The instinct of some of them might have been to object loudly and query why there was a stranger in the chair. But someone wearing the formal robes of the speaker was seeking silence, which meant the house should continue to be quiet.

  ‘The prime minister will resume his seat. Members …’ Gordon cleared his throat and started again. ‘Members, it is my melancholy duty to inform you of the immediate resignation of Speaker Bagshaw. I table her formally signed resignation for the consideration of the house.’

  Richard Barker reached up and took from Gordon the emblazoned resignation paper and placed it on the parliamentary practice books beside the government despatch box. Gerrard snatched it up and resumed his seat to read it, Meredith Bruce standing and reading over his shoulder.

  ‘According to parliamentary practice and procedure, if the speaker resigns there is required to be an immediate election for a new speaker, forthwith. I have assumed the chair in accordance with parliamentary practice to allow for the election of a new speaker,’ Gordon continued.

  Bruce resumed her seat, leaning forward to quietly discuss the incident with Gerrard, in a huddle with Menzies. She didn’t know what to do, and sought advice from her boss, who appeared to be as perplexed as she. There was an immediate general commotion from members of the parliament as they discussed with nearby colleagues the unusual circumstance they now faced.

  ‘Order, the house will come to order. As there has been no deputy speaker formally elected in the parliamentary period since the tragic death of Ms Kennedy last week, parliamentary practice directs the clerk to hold such an election for the speaker.’ Gordon was reading from his prepared script. ‘I table the governor-general’s proclamation giving me the authority to act to elect a speaker.’

  Gordon passed the proclamation to Richard Barker, and glanced at Messenger and locked eyes, raising one eyebrow to ensure he understood that now was the time to ac
t. ‘Once the immediate business of the house is concluded, we shall move to such an election.’

  Before Meredith Bruce could respond from her strategic conversation huddle with Gerrard and Menzies, Messenger was at the despatch box.

  ‘I move that the house do now adjourn.’

  Bruce looked up from the discussion, distracted by her prime minister’s pleas for the legislation to be voted on that day, and didn’t think about the motion put to the house. She considered it was the right thing to do, in the context of getting a new speaker elected. Bruce questioned Gerrard on how to finalise the third reading of the legislation if the opposition were to have one of their own as speaker. She advised Gerrard they would now need to negotiate with the opposition after the election of the new speaker, and the following question time was possibly irrelevant and not required. Bruce reassured Gerrard, with the support of the attorney-general Menzies, that there was still time to get the legislation approved that sitting day.

  Gordon continued, ‘The question is that the house does now adjourn. All those of that opinion say aye, to the contrary no, I think the ayes have it.’

  Stanley immediately stood at the despatch box, seeking the call from the speaker, taking government members by surprise.

  ‘I call the leader of the opposition.’

  ‘Speaker, before you adjourn the house for the election of a new speaker,’ Stanley now read from the paper. ‘I move that, given the government has just lost the confidence of the house through a motion moved by the opposition to adjourn the house, I now advise the house, that having been moved, and then won by a vote of the opposition, under long-standing parliamentary practice, I am now the new formally elected leader of the house of representatives and by this action the prime minister. Therefore, I direct you to immediately advise the governor-general to dissolve this parliament, so that a general election can be held at the earliest possible time.’

  ‘The question is, that this house now be dissolved,’ stated Gordon.

  Members of parliament could not have known the implications of the question. Who could understand such an obscure ruling, that the house be dissolved for an immediate federal election? The government leaders were not paying attention to the parliamentary proceedings and were unsure of the political significance of the events unfolding before them, still expecting a move by the parliament to elect a new speaker. ‘All those of that opinion say aye, the contrary no, the ayes have it.’

  ‘The noes have it.’ Gerrard shouted, scrambling to the despatch box, suddenly realising that the parliament, and therefore his government, was about to be dismissed, and that his retirement plans had collapsed due to parliamentary process.

  ‘The member for Melbourne will resume his seat. In accordance with the formal agreement between the previous government and the opposition, signed four days ago, confirmed today by a statement to this house by Speaker Bagshaw, there are to be no divisions. The ayes have it.’

  Gordon ignored the howling protests from the government benches, led by Gerrard, as members suddenly became aware of the implications of the vote. ‘I now formally prorogue the house of representatives. I will visit the governor-general with writs to be issued for a general election.’

  Gerrard jumped to the despatch box. ‘My government will formally advise the governor-general to ignore this vote. Convention says the governor-general must act on the advice of the prime minister.’

  ‘You are no longer prime minister, I am,’ shouted Stanley. ‘And I have just advised the governor-general to dismiss the house. Who is the rabble now, cupcake?’

  Gordon jumped from the chair, knowing he needed to move faster than Gerrard to get to the governor-general. But the governor-general was waiting, as arranged, in the vestibule to sign the election writs once Gordon could advise her that the house had been prorogued. As she signed the documents, Gerrard crashed through the door.

  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he shouted.

  ‘I am signing writs for a general election, Mr Gerrard,’ the governor-general calmly responded.

  ‘I am your prime minister, and you are constitutionally bound to follow my advice.’ Gerrard tried hard to remain calm. ‘I advise you, that you should not sign those writs.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Let’s all settle down, and work this issue out calmly, please folks. Where is Speaker Bagshaw?’

  ‘Mr Gerrard, you are no longer prime minister. You have lost a confidence vote on the floor of the house,’ the governor-general explained.

  ‘It was just an adjournment motion,’ Gerrard retorted.

  ‘Yes it was, and moved by the opposition.’ The governor-general finished signing the documents and passed them to Hopetoun. ‘I am advised by the chief justice that such an adjournment vote moved and won by the opposition of the day is identical to a vote of no confidence in the government taken by the house.’ The governor-general stepped back, looked at Gerrard and smiled. ‘And as I am advised by the clerk of the parliament, just now, you lost the vote. Therefore, you have lost government, Mr Gerrard, and therefore I have signed the writs so that the nation will immediately move to a general election.’

  ‘She is right, Andrew,’ Hopetoun added.

  ‘Oh, shut up!’ Gerrard snapped. ‘What the hell are you doing here, anyway.’

  ‘I was asked to attend,’ Hopetoun said.

  ‘By whom?’ Gerrard replied incredulously.

  ‘By the senior officer of the parliament.’

  ‘You!’ Gerrard turned on Gordon, ‘This is your idea?’ Gerrard’s sudden thrust was quickly and deftly intercepted by security officers who held him back as he struggled against their grip until he slowly regained some composure.

  ‘Mr Gerrard, please calm down,’ the governor-general implored. ‘The parliament is greater than all of us standing here, and we are just servants of the people. It has managed serious issues of constitutional disagreements like this before during its history, and no doubt it will do so again. We shall have a general election and the matters currently before the parliament can be revisited when the parliament resumes.’

  Hopetoun added, ‘By my calculation, this will be a few days prior to Christmas. Should you win the election, you can bring forward any legislation you see fit. So your funding, which seems so important to you, can be approved by the parliament at that time, and the punters can get their money on time, if you win the election.’

  ‘And the Indonesian detention centre funding will be sent, as originally planned, in February,’ said Gordon. ‘It’s called proper parliamentary process – and that’s why we call it a democracy.’ He couldn’t help himself.

  Gerrard stood back from the security guards, calmed himself, straightened his jacket and adjusted his tie. ‘When I return as prime minister, I will have all of your jobs, all of you,’ Gerrard said, as he pointed at each of them individually, then stormed off. ‘I will have you all for doing this to me, you will not survive this, none of you!’

  ‘It seems the former prime minister is a little upset,’ the governor-general offered.

  ‘Yes, Your Excellency,’ Gordon replied smiling broadly. ‘It would appear so.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  THURSDAY 3.48 PM

  ‘It’s over.’ Gerrard sat at his desk, pinching his forehead as he gave the news to his friend in Indonesia. ‘The earliest we can get it to you will be February.’

  ‘That is not good for me.’

  ‘There is nothing I can do about it now, I’m no longer prime minister.’

  ‘That is a sad news, my friend. I will now have to withdraw the order for clemency for your citizens.’

  ‘Amir, come on, you can’t execute them because you won’t get your money until next year.’

  ‘There is no guarantee of that. You may not win the election.’

  ‘I will win the fucking election and I will get you your money.’

  ‘Andrew, I cannot be sure of it, so I will stop all works on the detention centres, withhold the clemency or
der and recall my ambassador, and you can forget any deal we may have had.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘My people cannot trust you to keep your word, so if you want to regain our confidence, I suggest you win the election.’

  Zara Bagshaw had returned to her office, drawn the curtains, and stretched out on her leather lounge. The darkened room held back the events of the day until a quiet tap on her door preceded the entrance of a staff member who whispered, ‘Zara, your father is on the phone insisting he speak with you.’

  ‘I can’t speak to anyone at the moment.’

  ‘He is refusing to take no for an answer, I’m afraid. He is becoming abusive.’

  ‘All right, put him through.’ Zara sat up, grasping the back of the lounge to steady herself, one hand gripping a bundle of tissues. She walked slowly to her desk, burdened with the weight of failure and sat as the phone rang.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Honey, what’s happened? Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine. I have a migraine, but I am fine.’

  ‘That’s crap, you sound dreadful. I just heard the news about the election and your resignation, what happened?’

  She sighed. ‘The parliament thought I should resign because they basically thought I was biased against the opposition, so I agreed and resigned. The parliament was then prorogued, and now we are to have a general election. Simple really.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  Zara bit her bottom lip and wiped her eyes, dropping the hand with the receiver into her lap and letting her head fall back as she stared at the ceiling.

  ‘Honey, are you there?’

  ‘Daddy, I’ve done a bad thing.’

  ‘Come home, darling, come home today.’

  ‘I blame you really,’ Anita said as she sipped her champagne from a plastic cup.

  ‘For what, exactly?’ Messenger had bought a bottle to celebrate the events of the day.