CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Winner flicked through the contents of his in-tray. It was getting increasingly difficult to concentrate on the work in hand. Half way through reading a committee report he would find his mind drifting back to the problem of breaking into Cedar Park. At least the tension on the work front was receding slightly as the various committees reluctantly approved their limited budgets. He had managed to stay alert while the Recreation Committee ploughed through their numerous budget sheets the day before. Even the keenest advocates of the new theatre complex had admitted defeat for the time being. He could only assume that any arguments had been sorted out in the privacy of the political meetings that were usually held before major committees.
Fresh in the morning's post were the Government's annual return of expenditure forms. That was a task that Nigel had done in the past. He hardly liked to give the job to Sally. Perhaps he could persuade one of the other staff that it would be good experience for them to have a go at filling them in? It was a job that required a substantial amount of imagination and flair. Very few of the expenditure headings given on the form matched up with the way Sharmouth prepared its budget. Worse than that, they expected all the estimates to be at November prices. Ever since inflation had dropped down below double figures, Sharmouth had prepared its budget in cash terms. Some money was allowed in the budget for inflation, so that managers had to cope with a fixed budget, whatever happened to prices. Whoever filled in the forms had to adjust all the budgets to exclude the notional amount that had been allowed for inflation. The result was a collection of dubious hacked about figures that as if by magic still managed to total the same as the Council's budget. Winner wondered whether they managed any better at other local authorities. The Government was always sniping at local government, suggesting it was wasteful and inefficient, but it seemed nowadays that half the work in the accountancy office was actually being done for the Government. Winner knew where he would like to start an efficiency drive.
Perhaps Jack Evans could be persuaded, or maybe he could oversee his assistant? Just so long as the forms were filled in reasonably well. Winner had heard about authorities that had lost grant aid through misreading the arcane annotations. He picked up the phone and dialled Evans' number, but instead of getting the dialling tone he straight away heard Evans speaking. It was an occasional fault on the system. If two people dialled the same number at the same time they could find themselves party to a confusing three-way call. Winner was about to put the phone down, but something that was said caught his attention.
"Eight o'clock tonight then. She'll be there." It was Evans speaking.
"The usual fee?" A man, but not a voice familiar to Winner.
"In advance, direct as usual."
Evans put down his phone and Winner clicked the rest down on his own. He leaned to one side slightly so that he could see Evans through the doorway. Evans was scribbling down some details, then he made a series of brief calls. The rumours must be true. He appeared to be running some sort of dating agency, or worse, at the Council's expense. Winner would have to tackle him about it some time, but not for the moment. First of all the forms. He lifted his finger off the telephone rest and dialled Evans again.
After lunch Winner went up to the Personnel Section to check on the final details for the redundancies in Sanderman's Direct Services Organisation. For once the door was closed. Winner was surprised, because it suggested that the heating had been repaired. He pushed the door, but it didn't move. A small notice was pinned to the door post, announcing that the office was temporarily closed and that enquirers should go to the Chief Executive's anteroom.
Winner went up the stairs and headed for the executive suite. He met Pat Johnson as he went in.
"You've finally done it," he said. "I didn't really believe you when you said you would move in here."
"Hadn't you heard?" she asked. The early morning refuse truck swiped away one of the steel supports that held up the offices."
"The offices were still there when I drove in."
"They didn't actually fall down, though it's not clear why not. They're underpinning it with temporary props this afternoon so we'll be able to get our files out. This is it, though. I'm definitely not moving back in there until all the repairs have been done."
"Good for you. Forbes won't want you here for too long, so they'll probably get started straight away. Wasn't there anywhere else to go?"
"We could have set up shop in one of the stores, but I don't think that would have been a good move."
Winner laughed. "I don't suppose this is a good time to ask about Sanderman's redundancies."
"That's one of the few things I do have details of. The papers were all in my briefcase. I'll give you a copy if you can hang on for a moment. The men were told yesterday afternoon."
Winner waited while Johnson fed a sheet through the photocopier. She handed him the copy and he had a quick look.
"It's as bad as that?" he said. "I didn't think he have to get rid of anyone from the salaried side just yet. Steve Jenkins has been there for years and he's a first class administrator. How is Sanderman going to run the place without him?"
"How can anyone manage properly these days?"
The atmosphere in Barry Freeman's office was distinctly heavy. Steve Jenkins was sat in the visitor's chair at the front of Freeman's desk.
"These are very serious accusations, Mr Jenkins," said Freeman.
"I didn't really expect you to believe me. I know it all sounds rather far fetched."
Freeman sat back in his chair. "I didn't say that I don't believe you. Some hard facts would be useful, of course. Do you mind if I ask one of my colleagues to join us? I take this matter so seriously that I would have asked the Treasurer himself, but he's away at a seminar. I'd like Dave Winner, the Chief Accountant, to join us. If you would like to have someone else here with you, I'd quite understand."
"No, that's all right. You go ahead and call Mr Winner."
Freeman picked up the phone and just caught Winner on his return from the executive suite.
"He'll be along in a minute or two. How about a cup of tea or coffee?"
Winner arrived just as Freeman's clerk was taking in the drinks. He sat down at the side of the desk. Freeman pulled out his memo recorder and put it down beside his coffee.
"Do you mind?" he said to Jenkins, pointing at the recorder. Jenkins nodded. "Perhaps you'd tell us again what you told me a short while ago?"
"As you know," Jenkins began, "I've worked for this authority for many years, going back to long before all this competition nonsense. I never expected it to end like this, and not just because I've been a loyal, honest employee. In fact, Sanderman promised me a while ago that I'd never lose my job while he was in charge. I suppose he thought he was safe now because I'd have to implicate myself if I accused him of anything. Well, I'm not going to let him get away with it. The truth of the matter is that he's been rigging tenders for years to make sure that he got the work."
"How was he doing it?" Winner asked.
"He'd convinced one of the Committee clerks that it was done in loads of authorities to protect jobs and livelihoods. You know, so common that it wasn't really dishonest. By the time the Committee clerk realised he'd been duped, he was in too deep to pull out. That's how Sanderman works. He gets a hold on people. I'm not saying it's for personal gain, mind. I think he started off down this road in a genuine attempt to avoid sacking people."
"Where do you fit in to this?"
"I came in the night before a tender opening and found him with the other tenders laid out on the table, busy changing his own submission. He pretty well put it to me then that if I wanted to keep my job I'd better not say anything. Then he asked me to help him. I've got mixed feelings about how dishonest it's all been. As far as I know, the local taxpayers are no worse off because of it. The DSO has managed to return a small profit, so the contracts haven't been undertaken at a loss."
"But you know it's illegal," said Freeman. Jenkins nodded, reluctant to have his admission recorded on tape.
"Why do you think he's got rid of you now?" was Winner's next question.
"He's in a jam, he has to get rid of someone. Like I said, he thought I probably wouldn't talk, wouldn't want to jeopardise my redundancy money. Apart from that, I think he can see the end. Someone was sure to latch on to the fact that he was winning such a high proportion of tenders with such a small margin. It was only a matter of time. If he can't fix the bids he'll be out of a job himself within two years."
Possibly sooner, thought Winner.
"Do you know which Committee clerk it was," Freeman asked.
Jenkins looked hard at Freeman. "The person involved was a victim, not a criminal."
"I can promise you, we'd look at all the circumstances. We're not inhuman."
"Very well, it was Peggy Simon."
"You realise we may have to call in the police."
"I know, but I've gained nothing. I'd say I was pressurised by Sanderman under threat of dismissal. Any court would be sympathetic to that."
The tape recorder hummed as Jenkins told them every detail he could about the fiddling. Eventually there was nothing left to say.
"You were right to come to me," Freeman told him when he had finished. "As you said, it was bound to come to an end sooner or later and you can be sure that we'll take your openness today into account if we decide to take any action."
"What do I do now?" Jenkins asked.
"Did you tell anyone in the office that you were coming to see me?"
"No, it's none of their business."
"Just carry on as usual. I can promise you we'll investigate what you've told us."
Freeman showed Jenkins out of the office and then went back to his desk.
"What do you make of all that then?" he asked Winner.
"Mostly true, I expect. I'm not so sure about the business of it not costing the taxpayers anything. If they could make a profit at the low prices they eventually tendered, why weren't they quoting those prices in the first place and winning the contracts honestly."
"That's true, but in fairness to Jenkins, he may only know half the story."
"What are you going to do about it?"
"First of all a full report to Westerman. He'll probably want a copy for Forbes. Then a rather difficult formal interview with Mr Sanderman and perhaps Miss Simon."
"You're not going straight to the police?"
"No, and I'd rather you didn't say anything about what you've heard this afternoon, David. At the moment all we've got is some accusations from a naturally angry member of staff."
"It wouldn't look too good if it's all true, would it, coming hot on the heels of the fifty thousand pound theft?"
"It's up to the Treasurer and Forbes to decide what to do. If they decide to bury it, I'd have to go along with them if there's nobody who's actually stolen anything and the leak's been plugged."
Winner raised his eyebrows. "Do I detect a descent from the normal moral high ground?"
Freeman smiled. "Nothing's what it seems and nothing's quite what it used to be," he said, rather enigmatically.
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