ON Duadi, Dekkard woke to the sound of rain, and the comparative coolness of the air told him that the rain had moved in from the north, and that it heralded the coming of true fall—by the weather and not the calendar—and possibly the beginning of the waterspout season.
“We might even have a week of cooler weather,” he said, leaning over and kissing Avraal.
“Optimist,” she replied, after returning the kiss.
With a smile he sat up. “I’ll hurry.”
“You always do,” she replied with a smile that was faintly sleepy and mischievous.
Dekkard winced. “Not in everything.”
“That’s true.” She smiled again, warmly.
Dekkard showered, shaved, and dressed quickly—except for cravat and jacket—then said, “I’ll have your café ready.”
“Thank you.”
When he reached the kitchen, he saw that Emrelda was already in full uniform and about to leave.
“You’re up earlier,” she observed.
“The rain.”
She raised her eyebrows. “It’s been raining since before midnight.”
Knowing any explanation would just invite more comment, he just shrugged, then said, “At least it will be cooler for a while. This has been a hot fall.”
Emrelda grinned. “Especially for you two. I’ll see you tonight.” Then she turned and headed for the portico door.
Dekkard shook his head, then took a quick look at Gestirn. The only directly political story was on page three and stated that the Council was holding closed oversight hearings on certain questionable policies of the Treasury and Security Ministries.
That had to come indirectly from Obreduur. It also had to be part of the Premier’s tactics to buy time before the New Meritorists returned to more demonstrations … or worse. Dekkard set the newssheet aside.
He had the café and croissants ready well before Avraal entered the kitchen, wearing a gray skirt and a pale cream blouse, but not the jacket that matched the calf-length skirt. “Working grays, I see.”
“It’s easier to conceal the knives … and we need to leave a little earlier.” She sat down and took a sip of café.
Translated loosely, you don’t want to tempt me by showing up in a robe. Dekkard smiled. “You look very good in the teal and gray.”
“I could wear ragged security grays, and you’d say that.”
“You look good in everything.”
“That’s not true … but thank you.”
Dekkard sat down across from her. “Would you like a croissant?”
“Please.”
Avraal actually ate the entire croissant, almost immediately, which told Dekkard that she anticipated a long day and was serious about leaving earlier. They quickly cleaned up, finished dressing, and were in the Gresynt in little more than a third of a bell.
As he headed off Florinda and onto Jacquez, Dekkard asked, “Which project needs you there early?”
“All of them, but especially the Eastern Ironway investigation. One of Carlos’s sources has located several people who may have leads to the mysterious Amash Kharhan.”
“The one who received the twenty-thousand-mark bribe for the illegal coal lease?”
“It’s still legally a commission unless we can prove that those marks were paid contrary to law or that they induced someone to break the law or were paid in return for an illegal act.”
Not for the first time, Dekkard was glad he wasn’t a legalist, until he recalled what Macri had told him several months earlier—that he was already close to being a legalist. He smiled wryly, then said, “It would be helpful if you could tie that to the Commercers.”
“Do you think anyone except the New Meritorists will really care?”
“You might be right.”
“Might be?”
Dekkard laughed. “You’re right. Most people won’t care at all, even if it is another example of Commercer corruption.” He couldn’t help thinking that the tendency of people to ignore corruption or illegalities so long as it didn’t seem to affect them was exactly why the Commercers had gotten away with so much for so long. It was only when their policies started to squeeze more from the really poor segments of Guldor that unrest began to grow, along with New Meritorist support.
Dekkard dropped Avraal off and drove to the Council Office Building without incident.
There were no important messages—sent by Guldoran Heliograph or otherwise—waiting for Dekkard at his office. The mail and petitions were all matters that Roostof could handle or delegate to Luara Colsbaan. So, after putting it all in Roostof’s inbox, he asked, “How are you coming on the draft legislation?”
“I do have a draft.”
“Bring it into the office. We need to talk about it before you come up with a final version.”
Roostof followed Dekkard into the inner office and closed the door.
Dekkard sat down behind the desk. “To what degree are Special Agents shielded from criminal law and prosecution? Under current law, that is?”
“Theoretically, they’re not,” replied Roostof. “Practically though, that’s another matter.”
“You mean if someone falls down a set of steps, and there’s no evidence found, or if someone’s shot in dim light and no one saw the shooter … that sort of thing?”
The legalist nodded.
“How can we make them more accountable?”
Roostof offered an amused smile. “The best way is what you proposed. Put the STF under Army control, and put the Special Agents into an information ministry or office without any authorization to carry weapons. I added a provision that gives the new information office the ability to request patroller assistance in specific instances if there is reason to believe it’s necessary.” The legalist paused. “We didn’t talk about this, but I’d suggest the information function be moved to the Justiciary or Treasury Ministry or, if you’d prefer, the Ministry of Health and Education.”
Dekkard thought for a moment. “Justiciary and Treasury would be better for all the Special Agents.” And politically more acceptable.
After going through the draft legislation and suggesting some changes, but mostly appreciating what Roostof had fleshed out from his bare-bones outline, Dekkard had to leave for the Council Hall. He crossed the courtyard under the covered portico with cool rain falling on both sides, the most comfortable walk to the Council Hall in months.
On reaching the Security Committee room, he saw that Hasheem and Navione were already there, talking quietly behind the conference table.
By a sixth before the third morning bell, all the Security Committee members were in the hearing chamber—except Erik Marrak—along with four Security officials, one of whom was seated behind the witness desk, and three others in chairs to the left, who were dressed in suits of differing shades of blue. Only the man at the desk—black-haired and slightly older—wore true security blue. Three committee clerks occupied a table to one side.
Just before the Council Hall bells chimed three times, Premier Obreduur and Isobel Irlende entered the chamber and sat to one side.
Marrak followed them, almost sauntering to his place at the long, curved desk on the dais.
Hasheem did not even look in Marrak’s direction as he tapped the gavel and spoke. “Welcome, Director Mangele. As Deputy Minister Manwaeren should have informed you, the committee requested your presence to determine how your office was taken so unaware by the suddenness and the scope of the destruction created by the New Meritorists this past summer. I would also like to inform you that the nonconfidential portions of your testimony and that of your aides will be released to the newssheets.” Hasheem smiled politely. “Let’s make this simple. Why didn’t your office see this coming?”
“Thank you for your directness,” replied Mangele in a deep voice that carried a touch of irony. “The simple answer is that the New Meritorists provided no reason for the Intelligence Office to believe that they constituted a danger. They committed no crimes. In the past two years, prior to the very recent disturbances, they printed no manifestoes. They posted no posters and distributed no broadsheets. What would the committee have had the Intelligence Office do? Our job is not to look into the private lives of people who have shown no intent of criminality or civil unrest.”
“That’s a very well-crafted response, Director Mangele,” replied Hasheem. “I assume that the legalists of the Security Ministry have reviewed that statement?”
“Of course.” Mangele smiled warmly.
“I think we would both agree that your statement represents how the Security Ministry should handle intelligence investigations. That still leaves several questions. Acting Minister Manwaeren testified that the broadsheets and posters of the New Meritorists publicly available two years ago clearly advocated the abolition of the Great Charter, by force, if necessary. Did you not see this as a potential threat to be investigated?”
“As I said before, there was no evidence of such a threat.”
“Is that the usual practice of the Intelligence Office?” asked Hasheem pleasantly. “Not to investigate individuals or organizations unless there is some evidence of a threat?”
Dekkard noted Mangele’s slight hesitation before replying.
“That is the usual practice, yes.”
“Are there exceptions to that practice?”
“There may be, but I’m not aware of any.”
Hasheem nodded, then asked, “Do you recall the judgment of the High Justiciary in the Guildmeister Andreas Bergstyn case?”
Mangele hesitated again. “I don’t recall the details.”
“In that case, over a period of three months, intelligence agents continually followed the guildmeister. Guildmeister Bergstyn gathered enough evidence and witnesses to bring the matter to the High Justiciary, which issued an order to the Security Ministry to provide evidence of any wrongdoing. Security failed to do so, and was enjoined to discontinue surveillance. You testified before the High Justiciary, and claimed privilege. The Justiciary viewed the documentation in camera and dismissed your claim. Are you sure that you don’t remember?”
“That was an unusual case,” said Mangele.
“What about the assault on Leistyr Abhram…”
Dekkard watched and listened over the next third of a bell as Hasheem cited eight more instances of Security “surveillance” efforts that had been found improper or illegal.
Then Hasheem said, “I have here another sixteen instances of improper and excessive surveillance practices by the Intelligence Office over the past five years. I see little point in citing the particulars of each. What I want to know, however, is exactly how you and your assistant directors could have decided in good conscience to undertake detailed surveillance of individuals for whom there was absolutely no evidence or even hint of wrongdoing, and yet, you could not justify further surveillance of a group that had openly declared its intent to change the government of Guldor by force.”
Mangele did not answer.
“I’m waiting, Director. Why did you investigate these individuals and not the New Meritorists?”
Mangele remained silent.
Hasheem reached down, and a chime sounded. Dekkard assumed there was a hidden bellpull, but he’d never seen or heard of that.
The committee room doors opened, and three Council Guards appeared, followed by the Council lieutenant-at-arms.
For the first time, Mangele looked surprised.
“Since you have refused to answer a legitimate inquiry of the Council, you will be incarcerated in the Council gaol until such time as you are willing to answer truthfully and completely.”
“You can’t do this,” Mangele protested.
“I can and will,” said Hasheem. “That power is clearly invested in the Council. And don’t tell me that you don’t know or some other non-answer. Nor can you take refuge in non-incrimination. That provision does not apply to matters involved with official duties of government, as you well know.”
Mangele paled, slumping slightly in his chair. The silence drew out.
To Dekkard, it seemed as though a sixth of a bell had passed, but it couldn’t have been more than a minute.
Finally, Mangele cleared his throat. “In all of those instances you cited, I was ordered to carry out those investigations by the former Minister of Security, Lukkyn Wyath. I cannot speak to the instances you have not cited.”
Dekkard looked to Erik Marrak, who was clearly stunned, as was Jaradd Rikkard. Pajiin seemed amused, Navione’s face remained impassive, while Haastar actually looked bored.
“Were those orders relayed to you through Deputy Minister Manwaeren? Or did former Minister Wyath give them directly to you?”
Before Mangele spoke, Hasheem’s eyes went to Isobel Irlende.
Mangele moistened his lips, then said, “To the best of my recollection, those orders were given to me directly.”
Isobel Irlende nodded slightly.
“Thank you, Director. You will remain for a few minutes while I ask a few questions of your assistant directors.” Hasheem looked to the man closest to Mangele. “Assistant Director Schoonover, in your capacity as the head of Criminal Intelligence, were you ever given orders to investigate someone for whom there was no hint or evidence of wrongdoing?”
“Not that I am aware, Sr. Chairman,” replied Schoonover.
Irlende nodded slightly once more.
“What about you, Assistant Director Elberto, in your capacity as head of Foreign Intelligence?”
“Sr. Chairman, the office of Foreign Intelligence is charged with reporting on all activities of foreign corporacions and organizations that may impact on Guldor, either favorably or unfavorably. Any criminal activities we discern are referred to the Office of Criminal Intelligence. We have referred a few potential criminal instances, but there was definite evidence.”
“Thank you.” Hasheem nodded and looked to the third Security assistant director. “And you, Assistant Director Oostyr?”
“The Office of Civic Intelligence was tasked by Director Mangele to investigate the instances you cited. There were other cases as well where evidence of criminality was lacking.”
Oostyr’s voice was calm, but resigned.
“Thank you, Director and Assistant Directors. The material revealed in these hearings will be provided to the Minister of the Justiciary and to the Premier and, at his discretion, to the newssheets. You may go.” Hasheem lifted the gavel and hit the wooden base twice. “Because of the legal limitations of the evidence provided, today’s hearing is over.”
Marrak turned to Hasheem. “No one else—”
“What else do you need to know, Erik?” asked Hasheem quietly. “There’s been more than a little bending and breaking of the law, and we will be referring it to the Justiciary. Do you really want to say that it didn’t happen?”
Marrak closed his mouth, then after several moments, said, “The proceeding was rather abrupt, and every councilor should have a chance to question the witnesses.”
“If this had been a normal hearing, you’d be right. But when a hearing reveals criminal activity, the matter has to go to the Justiciary Ministry for possible prosecution. Any further questions might compromise their rights to an unbiased trial.”
“They’re going to be charged as criminals?” Marrak’s voice was almost incredulous.
“That’s up to the Minister of the Justiciary.”
Dekkard doubted that either the assistant director for Criminal Intelligence or for Foreign Intelligence would be charged, but it was likely Mangele and Oostyr would be—possibly the acting minister as well.
“But they were just following orders.”
“That excuses nothing,” interjected Navione. “We’re the government, not a corporacion.”
Dekkard noticed that, during the brief conversation, Obreduur and Irlende had departed, as had the Security Ministry functionaries, along with Rikkard and Haastar. Pajiin remained, standing just off the dais.
Navione nodded to Hasheem. “Deftly done, Fredrich, without theatrics or histrionics.”
“Thank you, Kharl.”
Navione smiled briefly and then stepped away.
Hasheem moved closer to Dekkard. “Frieda Livigne resigned this morning. I understand you spoke with her yesterday, and that she was visibly disturbed after you left.”
“I asked why Jaime Minz had ordered certain committee records turned over to the Security Ministry. She told me she presumed Minz was carrying out orders from Premier Ulrich.”
“That was all?”
“I asked why the records weren’t more extensive, and she said that was because staff was ordered not to take notes.”
Hasheem just nodded, then said, “I’d hoped to keep one professional staffer for continuity purposes.”
“I had no idea my questions—”
“You couldn’t have known. Now, if you have anything the committee might consider, you could bring it up at the meeting tomorrow when we discuss the hearing results. Drafts for the committee members would be useful.”
“I’ll see what I can do, sir.” Dekkard knew Hasheem didn’t want him to mention specifics. He’d made that clear earlier.
“Good. Until tomorrow, Steffan.”
“Until tomorrow.”
Dekkard stood and then stepped off the dais onto the hearing room floor, then waited as he saw Pajiin moving toward him.
“Did you know what Hasheem was going to do?” asked the older councilor.
“I knew he wanted to find out how the New Meritorists got the dunnite. I had no idea that he had all those dossiers and citations.” Dekkard had a good idea who was likely behind that documentation—most likely Carlos Baartol and Ingrella Obreduur. He began to walk slowly toward the door.
Pajiin laughed, quietly but harshly, as he kept pace. “Commercers don’t know what tough is.”
But will tough be enough to deal with both angry Commercers and rebellious New Meritorists? “They think they do, and more than a few corporacions aren’t likely to be dissuaded by hearings.” As he stepped through the door, Dekkard studied the corridor, but no one seemed interested in either him or Pajiin.
“Not until Hasheem and the Premier make sure that various corporacion presidentes are held personally accountable, one way or another.”
“That will require some significant changes to corporacion law,” Dekkard pointed out, stopping just outside the door, his eyes on the corridor, not the other councilor, whom he kept at a slight distance.
“Or using their tactics against them,” suggested Pajiin.
“Fixing the legal frailties would be harder,” admitted Dekkard, “but the social damage would be a lot less.” And so would the body count.
“Good fortune with that,” snorted Pajiin.
“We’ll just have to see. I’ve seldom outthought the Premier, and I don’t know any who’ve outmaneuvered him in the long run.”
“We live in the short run, Steffan.”
“Only because that’s often the only option.” Dekkard smiled. “I need to go. I’ll see you in committee tomorrow—unless I run across you sooner.”
“Until then,” replied Pajiin cordially.
Dekkard walked toward the courtyard doorway, wondering how long it would be before the New Meritorists resumed their demonstrations, and how long it would take Bretta and Illana to type up the necessary copies of the proposed Security reform legislation, not that the final version to go to the full Council would look anything like Roostof’s draft.
If it even gets that far.
Dekkard shook his head.