Contrarian, page 61
“Have you received any replies on the origin of those various banque drafts?”
“We have. I’ve shared all of them with the Justiciary minister. That was where I was this morning.”
“I take it that they trace back to specific corporacions?”
“To the same corporacions you suggested in your notes file.”
Dekkard wasn’t surprised. In fact, he would have been astonished if Trujillo hadn’t read the notes he’d written for the file kept in the records room.
“In each case,” Trujillo continued, “a corporacion accounting clerk presented a corporacion cheque and an authorization for the banque draft. In each case, the banque sent a separate confirmation of the transaction to the corporacion. All the banques were kind enough to provide a copy of that as well.”
“Did the Justiciary minister say anything?”
“Of course not. She just thanked me and had copies made before returning the original replies to me. She was kind enough to make a second copy for the records room. I’ve put the copies with the files. She did tell me to keep the originals safe. They are.”
“That would seem to make it difficult for the corporacions to deny sending marks to a corporacion tied to the New Meritorists.”
“I’ve seen many instances where corporate guilt didn’t result in individual guilt, Councilor,” replied Trujillo. “Even the corporate guilt was waived after a year or two on the grounds of the best interests of the Imperium. Some of them may claim they didn’t know about the ties between Capitol Services and the New Meritorists.”
In other words, the subcommittee still has a long way to go. “I appreciate the observation, Guard Captain, and all you and the Council Guard have done.”
“In the end, the Council Guard must answer to the Great Charter.” Trujillo laughed softly and mirthlessly. “That’s the way I see it. Other previous Guard captains have been somewhat more ‘flexible.’”
Dekkard realized that observation was also a warning—that this might be the only time in his life where returning the Council to the basic principles was possible. “Thank you.”
“I haven’t had a chance to inform the Premier, but I will inform him that you requested and received that information.”
“I appreciate that.” Dekkard stood. “I’d appreciate it if Council Guards were immediately available during the hearing on Tridi.”
“During hearings bearing on possible high crimes, guards will always be available. That is a standing order.”
Dekkard shook his head. “There’s still so much I don’t know.”
“That’s true of all of us.”
“Until later, Guard Captain.” Dekkard inclined his head and left, closing the door to the corridor quietly.
Neither Avraal nor Gaaroll said anything as the three walked toward the courtyard doors.
Dekkard couldn’t help but think about the proof of involvement of the five corporacions, but particularly Siincleer Shipbuilding, and the fact that all seventeen cheques the corporacion had sent to Capitol Services had likely been authorized by the late Pietro Venburg, and that there were likely no ties whatsoever to Juan del Larrano. Then he recalled something he’d discovered in trying to find out more about military contracting, although he didn’t recall all the particulars.
When the three neared the courtyard doors, Dekkard looked to Gaaroll. “Is there anything that’s even remotely dangerous anywhere close by?”
“I can’t sense anything.”
“Neither can I,” said Avraal.
Even as he’d asked, Dekkard realized that the greatest danger would likely come from something that neither Gaaroll nor Avraal could sense. That realization made him feel even more vulnerable, and he quickly crossed the courtyard to the Council Office Building.
As soon as Dekkard and Avraal returned to his office, he immediately asked Roostof to join him and Avraal in his personal office. Dekkard was still standing when the senior legalist entered.
“Sir?”
“If you’d have someone pick up the afternoon editions of Gestirn and the Tribune when they come out, I’d appreciate it. I’d like to know if anyone revealed anything about the subcommittee hearings. Nincya can do it, if that works for you. I’m not going anywhere for a while.” He paused. “There’s one other legal item. As I recall, unfair competition or fraud in military contracts can bar a corporacion from obtaining future contracts for up to ten years. Could you or Shuryn look into what other actions can trigger exclusion from obtaining contracts?”
“How soon do you need that, sir?”
“The sooner the better, but not if it means letting anyone outside the office know. I don’t need it today, but before the office closes tomorrow would be very helpful.”
“Yes, sir. We should be able to run that down by then.”
“Thank you, Svard.”
After Roostof left, as well as Avraal, who said she’d help Margrit, Dekkard settled behind his desk and immediately picked up the weekly report from Zenya Onswyrth and began to read. Most of what he read was similar to what seemed to happen weekly, except for two matters. The first was that the snow was melting fast and the Lakaan River was already at flood stage and might near its all-time high. The second was definitely disturbing.
Legalist Desharra stopped by the office on Furdi. She said that an examination of Sr. Seigryn’s body showed no wounds or bruises. There was no sign of poison … she also mentioned strangers in town were asking about how you became councilor …
Dekkard wondered if Jens had really just drunk too much or his drinking had been supplemented in some way—and by whom. Several people had suggested that Jens had more than a few enemies, but his death couldn’t have come at a less opportune time, especially with inquiries at nearly the same time. But then, death is almost always inopportune.
Somewhat more than a bell later, Dekkard had read through the incoming letters and was reading and signing responses when Avraal slipped into his office and closed the door.
Dekkard looked up.
She laid the afternoon editions of Gestirn and the Tribune on the side of the desk. “There’s nothing about the subcommittee in Gestirn. The Tribune handled it differently. It’s on the editorial page.”
“Another editorial on the questionable Councilor Dekkard?”
Avraal nodded. “It’s about what you’d expect.”
Dekkard picked up the Tribune, leafed back to the editorial page, and began to read.
THE HIGHLY QUESTIONABLE COUNCILOR DEKKARD
Remember the questionable Councilor Steffan Dekkard? How could anyone forget? The Military Institute graduate who never really served out his service obligation? The short-term former security aide who got himself appointed a councilor for a district in which he never lived? And who bought a house there that no one on his pay could possibly afford, in solid marks, no less? Who miraculously survived the shelling of the Council that killed the Premier who had been his champion?
Those questionable deeds are hardly the end of his dubious exploits. More recently, the most questionable councilor was conveniently at a meeting away from the Council Hall the morning that the New Meritorists’ captured cruiser rained shells down on Machtarn. His office was again targeted, but he and his staff weren’t there. Was it fortuitous because of a light snow, as he claims, or does the councilor possess knowledge he’s hidden from others? And there’s yet another dubious death, that of Jens Seigryn. Seigryn reputedly had been the choice of former Premier Obreduur to fill the seat Dekkard now holds, the seat of Haasan Decaro, who died mysteriously before he could be sworn in. But several weeks ago, Seigryn was reported missing. His frozen body was recently found when the snows melted in Gaarlak. Interestingly enough, just before his disappearance, Seigryn had talked about how Dekkard had manipulated key members of the Gaarlak Craft Party to gain appointment to the Council.
But the latest exploit of the questionable Councilor Dekkard is even more astonishing. Despite being the second most junior member of the Council’s Security Committee, he has managed to get himself appointed as the chairman of a special investigatory subcommittee ostensibly looking into how the New Meritorist terrorists obtained the explosives they used. Without evidence, or at least without evidence known to this newssheet, Councilor Dekkard has apparently decided that the explosives were military dunnite and has launched an investigation apparently focused on discrediting reputable and long-established Guldoran manufacturing corporacions.
Does Guldor really need politicians of dubious intent and even more dubious background?
Dekkard put the newssheet back on the desk. “It’s more of the same, except that the last part could have been written by the presidente of Suvion Industries.”
“Then it probably was … or by one of his legalists.”
“Did you show it to Svard?”
Avraal shook her head.
“If you wouldn’t mind asking him to come in?”
Avraal smiled. “I can do that.”
“And come back with him. I want to know how he really feels.”
Avraal returned in moments with Roostof.
Dekkard stood and handed the Tribune to the senior legalist. “Our friends are at it again. I’d like you to read the latest editorial on the questionable councilor and give me your honest opinion.”
Roostof turned to the editorial. When he finished, he shook his head. “A legalist drafted that … or at least reviewed it. There’s only one outright wrong statement, and that’s about evidence, but even that’s hedged. It does suggest that someone is very worried about you.”
“And since it doesn’t mention votes and the facts are correct, if misrepresented, any attempt I might make to set things straight would just make them worse.”
“You’re a better councilor than I’d ever be, sir, but that would be my judgment.”
Dekkard smiled. “I agree with your judgment about the Tribune editorial, but not about how good a councilor you’d make. One other thing. I’ve been so involved with the subcommittee work, and a few other matters, that I haven’t had a chance to talk with Luara about putting together a legislative package on legalist representation of working women for the Workplace Administration Committee.”
“We’ve gone over that, and she should have something ready for your review in a week or so.”
“Thank you.”
When Roostof left, Dekkard asked, “His reaction?”
“He was angry … a little depressed, too.” She paused, then said, “I’d like to say I’m beyond anger, but it’s beyond anger into cold fury. These bastards backed a group that never really could have succeeded at changing government—and actually gave them a shot at it—all in an effort to get more power and to kept the Crafters out … and they still might be able to get away with it, especially if they can get you off the Council.”
Or remove me in some less legitimate way.
“You look … distracted … distant,” said Avraal quietly. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m wondering what new form of removal Ulrich and Presidente Daenyld might come up with. Something that we haven’t thought of, something hard to predict or foresee.”
“More likely something simple and direct in an unexpected setting.”
“Like a men’s room?”
“It was effective. But that’s why I concentrated on Felix Quellar—to make certain there was no malign intent.”
Dekkard nodded, then looked at the stack of responses he needed to sign, something that he doubted his predecessor had been all that diligent about, at least not in the last year of his term. “I need to finish these before we go.”
In the end, he did finish signing or revising the responses quickly enough that it was only a few minutes past fourth bell when he, Avraal, and Gaaroll left the office.
The walk to the covered parking and the drive home were both uneventful, and neither Avraal nor Gaaroll sensed any danger that felt focused anywhere close to Dekkard. Even so, he felt uneasy the whole time, and that feeling didn’t subside after he garaged the Gresynt and was in the kitchen, where Avraal and Gaaroll were already helping Emrelda with dinner.
Emrelda half turned from the stove. “Captain Kunskyn sends his condolences. Over the newssheet article. He said you must be doing something right to make the Tribune that mad.”
“He isn’t a great supporter of the Tribune, I take it?”
“Not for years, and not after the way they savaged the patrol last year.”
“You mean when the Tribune supported the STF’s shooting all the unarmed demonstrators in the back, and condemned the patrollers for not doing the same?” asked Gaaroll.
“The station patrol captains across the city threated to shoot the STFs or Specials who fired on unarmed demonstrators,” Avraal said to Gaaroll. “That was before the New Meritorists took up arms—” She stopped as the front bell rang.
“It’s the nanny from next door, I think,” said Gaaroll. “Feels like an empie.”
Avraal frowned, then nodded.
“Avraal, you and Steffan see what she wants,” said Emrelda. “Nincya and I can finish up here.”
Dekkard followed Avraal to the front door, where she opened it.
Sigourna Miletus stood there, a look of concern on her face.
“Are you all right?” asked Avraal.
“I’m fine, Ritten. I’m worried. There’s been a blue Realto. It’s been by here three or four times this afternoon. It isn’t just the steamer. There are Realtos everywhere, but this one has a different feel. There are always two men in it. They feel cold. Not like patrollers.”
“You can sense all that?” asked Avraal, stepping back and motioning for the empath/nanny to come in before closing the door.
“Not all at once,” admitted Miletus. “The second time they drove by, I was outside with Tomas. I got a better feel then. They didn’t even look at me or Tomas. I could sense they were studying your house. The last time they came by was maybe a sixth before the Ritten—she’s a Ritten, too, isn’t she? A sixth before she got home.”
“Was it an old Realto or a new one?” asked Dekkard.
“It wasn’t either. Not new, but no rust or scratches.”
“Did you see either of the men?”
“Not that close. They were both dark-haired and wore dark jackets. Brown, maybe.”
“Was there anything else that stood out?”
“I can’t think of anything, sir.”
“Thank you so much,” said Avraal. “We appreciate that. If you notice anything else, please let us know.”
“I will, Ritten.”
“You’ve been practicing, haven’t you?” asked Avraal.
“As much as I can. Quietly … and carefully. It’s made things around the house much calmer.” Miletus offered an amused smile, an expression that made her look older.
“We should talk,” said Avraal. “Perhaps this endday?”
“I’d like that very much. I’d better go now. I told Sra. Waaldwud I’d only be a few minutes.”
“Thank you … again,” said Dekkard.
“You’re welcome, Ritter.” Miletus turned and left through the door that Avraal opened, then closed behind the nanny.
“Very interesting in a definitely sinister way,” said Dekkard.
“We need to tell Emrelda and Gaaroll.”
When they entered the kitchen, Emrelda said, “We’re serving. Just sit down.”
Dekkard exchanged glances with Avraal, and then they seated themselves.
Once everyone was seated and helped themselves to the veal and mushrooms and the potato cakes and pickled beets, Emrelda asked, “What did the nanny want?”
“To warn us,” said Dekkard, nodding to Avraal to continue.
After Avraal finished explaining, Emrelda said, “That sounds like they’re scouting. Making several trips more than a bell apart so that they don’t have to stop. People notice when strange steamers stop. Most likely, they won’t do anything tonight. I’ll talk to Captain Kunskyn in the morning to see what he might be able to do.”
“We’ll stop by Carlos’s office in the morning and let him know as well,” added Avraal.
“Nincya,” said Dekkard, “in addition to everything else, you now also have the duty of watching and sensing for blue Realtos driven by cold-feeling men.”
“Fewer blue Realtos than cold-feeling men,” countered Gaaroll sarcastically.
“More like a toss-up,” replied Emrelda. “What else happened today?”
Avraal looked to Dekkard.
“We had the hearing for Northwest Industrial Chemical. It turns out that there were some irregularities in the way they hired Jaime Minz.” Dekkard gave a brief summary of the day, but left out anything concerning Suvion Industries or the banque drafts, but ended by mentioning that Namoor Desharra had told Zenya Onswyrth about strangers in Gaarlak asking about him.
Emrelda shook her head. “As Captain Kunskyn said, you must be doing something right to have half the major corporacions in Guldor wanting your head.”
“Only about a quarter,” replied Dekkard. “I’m both honored and really, really worried.”
“That’s sensible,” said Emrelda. “Being worried, that is. But you do have three empaths and a few patrollers looking out for you.”
“If I didn’t,” answered Dekkard, “I wouldn’t be worried; I’d be terrified.” And maybe you still ought to be terrified.
“Now that we’ve covered that,” said Avraal, not quite tartly, “could we change the subject for a while?”
“The veal is very good,” said Dekkard cheerfully. “I know it would be a step down, but I wish you two were the ones cooking for the councilors’ dining room.”
“Dream on, dear,” said Avraal.
Even Gaaroll smiled.
Once Dekkard and Avraal retired to their room, he went over in detail what he’d found out from Trujillo about the banque drafts.
“None of that is surprising,” said Avraal, “except possibly the arrogance and the belief that they’ll never be called to answer for it.”
“We’ve discovered it, but we don’t have much proof that would identify the specific individuals actually behind it all. So…” said Dekkard, drawing out the word, “who’s the mastermind? Ulrich or Daenyld? Or del Larrano?”
