CHAPTER NINETEEN

DAY TWENTY-FIVE – SUNDAY

The metal stairs yielded to Wolff’s light touch as he quietly climbed to the campaign office of Jaya Rukhmani, his eyes scanning for sudden movement and unexpected threats from the dark warehouse. The campaign team never heard him coming and was surprised to see him pushing open the door. Everyone’s attention was immediately drawn to the stranger, but no-one responded to the intimidating man in black as they were unsure what to do.

Wolff disarmed them with a smile, hoping to break the increased anxiety in the room. ‘Hi, folks. I’d like to speak to Jaya,’ he said, stepping into the office and looking about. Jaya was pulling a poster from the wall and hadn’t heard him. ‘Would you be Professor Rukhmani?’

‘I have no comment to make. I’m no longer running for the election.’

Wolff looked about the others as Jaya continued disassembling the campaign material. ‘Yeah, I heard. That’s why I came over. Can we talk?’

‘Who are you?’

‘Hmm, that could be problematic for you,’ said Wolff. ‘I’m Jack Sinclair-Browne from head office.’ Jaya turned and stood gazing at him. Wolff was unsure what to do so smiled broadly. ‘Can we talk, please?’

‘Get out, you moron,’ howled Robert Wong as he quickly walked between them and almost chested Wolff with fists on his hips.

Wolff stepped back a step. ‘Ease up, mate, I’m here to talk,’ said Wolff, then re-engaged with Jaya. ‘I want to explain what happened and talk about strategy.’

‘It’s over, mate. We’ve been let go. Disendorsed. Sacked,’ Wong barked. ‘We’re no longer the candidate and it’s because of you, you fucking moron.’ The others in the room took a few steps toward the confrontation to support him.

Wolff still held Jaya’s gaze, then scratched his jaw. ‘I just want to talk. I have a proposition for you.’

‘I’m not sure I want to hear it,’ Jaya responded, dropping a poster to her feet and taking a step toward Wolff.

‘It’ll take no more than ten minutes,’ Wolff assured her, then waited. ‘The only reason I’m here longer is if you ask me to stay. Nice poster, by the way.’

Jaya shook her head in disbelief at the comment. ‘My reputation has been shredded. The university has demanded a review of my tenure. My case study has gone up in flames. I get weird calls from nut jobs and the media has hounded me for days. And you have a proposition for me?’

Wolff held out his hands, spreading his fingers in a gesture of submission. ‘Ten minutes.’

Jaya walked toward him and sat on a nearby desk. ‘You’re on the clock, go.’

Wong stepped back from Wolff and lingered at another desk. The others went back to what they were doing.

‘Do you disagree with what I wrote for you?’ Wolff got no response. ‘Was there anything you said at the community meeting you considered wrong?’

‘You’re going to have to do better than that.’ Jaya sniffed and crossed her arms.

‘I wrote that speech because I think I know you.’

‘You don’t know me,’ grunted Jaya. ‘Don’t for one moment kid yourself that you know anything about me because you don’t.’

‘I wrote it for you because it was time for someone to say it. To beat Gerrard in this seat, someone has to say it,’ said Wolff. ‘Gerrard is beatable, maybe not as prime minister, but he is very beatable as the local member. And you are the only person who can achieve that.’

Jaya remained unconvinced, raising an eyebrow. ‘Why?’

‘Because you raised the big elephant that has been stomping on immigration policy debate for many years, and frankly, you’re the only one who is entitled to speak about it.’

Jaya slowly shook her head incredulously. ‘You sacrificed me, my project and quite possibly my job so I could start a debate?’

‘I haven’t sacrificed you,’ grinned Wolff. ‘I’ve elected you.’

‘You must be mad.’ Jaya shook her head, stood, thrust her hands onto her hips and walked the floor a couple of times. ‘Surely you know I’m no longer the candidate. Are you for real?’

‘All part of my campaign strategy. That’s why I wrote the speech, initiated the community meeting, had the media there, and got you sacked from the party.’

Jaya vigorously scratched her head above her ear and with a pained expression asked, ‘Please explain?’

‘Look, Jaya. May I call you Jaya? Nice name, by the way, what does it mean?’

‘Are you completely mad?’ Jaya was tempted to call time.

‘No. Humour me, what does it mean?’

‘Victory.’

‘Exactly. That’s why you are going to win, Jaya, because your name means victory.’

‘Oh look, I’ve heard enough of this rubbish. Are we done?’ Jaya flicked her hand at Wolff and turned away. She took a moment then turned back to face him, quickly averting her eyes from his gaze.

Wolff stood. ‘Did the party fully support your candidacy during your preselection?’

‘What?’ Jaya looked up from the floor, directly at him.

‘Did they want you as a candidate and would you have won preselection if they had a white candidate?’ Wolff had her attention. ‘No matter if you won this seat or not, do you think the party would have supported you?’

Jaya assessed the questions and thought through a response. ‘They weren’t overly enthusiastic, let’s put it that way.’

‘Would you have won the election as a conservative candidate against Gerrard?’

‘No.’

‘Would you like to win?’

Jaya snorted. ‘Sweet dreams, mister, but useless to even think that way now.’

‘If I help you with resources, foot soldiers, manage your media and your statements, would you consider continuing to run against Gerrard as an independent.’

Jaya didn’t respond immediately, looking toward Robert who returned a doubtful look. ‘Why would you want to do that?’

‘Three reasons. You’re no longer under the weight of the conservatives and the dill they call their leader. You’re now free to say and do whatever you want without the restriction of party policy. You’re now a very clear independent candidate with a higher profile and name recognition than Stanley in the electorate. Two.’ Wolff held up two fingers. ‘You are a female on the coveted top of the ballot paper running as an independent against two male candidates who represent the swamp of party politics and political correctness. And three, because I think you can win the seat.’

Jaya didn’t respond and looked to the floor, thinking about what she had heard. With her head still bowed she said, ‘We don’t have any money.’

‘If I can get you as much money as you would ever need, would you then consider running as an independent candidate and with some dumb luck become the first woman to be elected in the seat of Melbourne?’ Wolff’s phone started making a noise. ‘That’s ten minutes, thanks for listening to me.’ He started to walk from the room, leaving Jaya to watch him go. The others glanced at each other, wondering what to do. He was halfway down the metal staircase before Jaya stepped out onto the landing.

‘You really think I can win?’

Wolff stopped and looked back up to her. ‘I can’t guarantee you’ll win, no-one can – but I know you are a quality candidate and with the right local campaign you are very capable of winning. At the very least you will take Gerrard to preferences for the first time.’

Jaya didn’t respond, and Wolff began to step down the stairs again.

‘Well, you had better come back up and have a cup of tea,’ Jaya smiled then called over her shoulder. ‘Robert, put the kettle on, will you please.’

Over the next three and half hours, Wolff ran through campaign strategy, outlining what was likely to happen during the next two weeks leading to election day. He told them about his plans for the party and how Jaya’s campaign could leverage off it with clear messages he assured would resonate throughout the community. He encouraged the team to continue filming their documentary but on the strict proviso he would never be identified or referred to at any time during or after the campaign, no matter the result. Wolff suggested he needed the assurance to not confuse his employers and any media. If his involvement was exposed, it could mean Gerrard wins. It was in everyone’s best interests if he remained anonymous.

Wolff emphasised the importance of the team to remain focused on doorknocking, street meetings and community group meetings. He wanted Jaya to smile more whenever cameras were around her. He wanted her in summer frocks and away from her dowdy black university garb. ‘You have a nice figure, flaunt it.’

Both Jaya and Robert immediately objected to the sexist comment. Wolff calmed them with a smile and conceding hands, explaining it was important to make a statement to women that Jaya was a positive role model for them and their daughters, so using her femininity was legitimate. He also suggested wearing traditional costume to community meetings, especially cultural groups and meetings with councillors. ‘Take plenty of photos and get them on your Facebook page and Instagram.’

Jaya laughed. ‘I don’t have any saris.’

‘Then get some, especially vivid vibrant colours. You’ll look terrific in them and it will be a point of difference to Gerrard,’ Wolff smiled. Jaya blushed.

‘Are you sure this is the type of behaviour required?’ Wong asked. ‘It all sounds a little cynical and sexist to me.’

‘Mate, listen. I shouldn’t have to tell a young dude like you that social media will play a significant role in this local campaign,’ Wolff said. ‘Bombard the Twittersphere and Instagram with everything and have your university groups begin a retweet campaign. Let’s get your message out there. We want Twitter going crazy with the exotic independent candidate from Melbourne. So we tweet everything and every hour we must have something to say. I’ll write them, but you must tweet them. Photos on Instagram linked back to Facebook are in addition to those comments, as are the political comments you’ll be making on Facebook.’

‘How much will that increase my profile?’

If you get your local folks to retweet and like the entries, I’ll get a few trolls to begin responding, good and bad to your entries, which will promote good and bad discussion. This builds momentum.’

‘Do I need to make any policy statements?’

‘The only thing for you to focus on is drilling down on what the major parties are announcing, and spin a negative impact for your local voters,’ said Wolff. ‘Dumb it right down so anyone can understand it. You have to remember most folks have not been to university, so get it back to a street language you would have used prior to your doctorate. What did you do your doctorate on by the way?’

‘I examined the use of push polling within a local political campaign.’

‘Which one?’

‘A Costa Rica presidential campaign.’

‘Oh yes? Was it the Jose Vargas campaign?’

‘How would you know that campaign, did you read my thesis?’

‘I probably wrote it,’ Wolff smiled shyly.

‘You are an interesting man, Mr Sinclair-Browne,’ grinned Jaya, then smiled more demurely as she looked away from the intensity of Wolff’s return look and smile. ‘Very interesting.’

‘Look, folks, I could talk about these things for hours, but I’m starving and have other work to do,’ said Wolff as he stood and stretched out any aches. ‘You have my number, so stay in touch. If you have any questions, no matter how stupid, call me.’

‘Do you fancy a vindaloo?’ asked Jaya. ‘There’s a khaane kee dukaan nearby.’

‘A what?’

‘An Indian restaurant,’ Jaya smiled. ‘If you like curry, that is.’

‘Sure, let’s do it. I would love something hot and spicy tonight.’ Wolff smiled at his own joke as he started walking out. ‘Coming, Robert?’

Wong looked up at Wolff then passed a quick flick to Jaya, who pursed her lips with a very slight shake of head. ‘No, that’s very kind of you, but you have given me plenty to do here. I want to get on top of it tonight.’

Wolff smiled at his enthusiasm. ‘That’s fine, just make sure there is no reference to me anywhere, okay?’ He was at the bottom of the stairs before Jaya, and he turned to watch her descend.

Jaya liked being watched as she slowly came down the stairs. ‘I’m really pleased you came when you did, Mr Sinclair-Browne,’ she said as she slowed, nearing the bottom step and letting Wolff watch her more closely. ‘You made my day.’

Wolff ran his tongue by the corner of his lips.