Kompromat

Half an hour later, after Barnard had had a quick shower and changed his clothes, the two men sat together on the terrace, pre-dinner drinks in hand.

They hadn’t seen each other since Moscow.

‘My God, what a summer!’ Boles began. ‘I can’t help wondering whether Mabel Killick didn’t do some kind of a deal with Jeremy Hartley. Go quietly or the coppers will be feeling your collar.’

‘Let’s not go there,’ Barnard replied. ‘We are where we are.’

He stood up as Julia Boles came to join them on the terrace. The butler served champagne and the evening sun bathed the Embassy’s vast lawn in a soft golden light.

‘We’re going to be a very small party tonight,’ Boles said. ‘We know you’re friends with Rosie Craig, so invited her. Her office said she was thrilled. Having you here was obviously a major draw. Big plus for the Embassy. Rosie’s not just her father’s daughter. Apparently he consults her on just about everything.’

‘She’s bringing Jack Varese too,’ Julia Boles added. ‘I gather you were all in Australia together a few weeks back.’

‘We were indeed. That was quite an adventure,’ Barnard said.

While they waited for Rosie and Jack to arrive, Andrew Boles summarized the current political scene:

‘Basically, Caroline Mann is in trouble. For some reason best known to himself, Wilbur Brown, who, as you know, is the director of the FBI, with only a few weeks to go before the election, has just announced that the FBI is reviewing some 30,000 of her emails, all of them mailed to or from her private, unauthorized server. This has been a total bombshell as far as her presidential campaign is concerned. Caroline has slumped in the polls.’

‘How did the FBI get the emails?’ Barnard asked.

‘Well, they haven’t told us so directly, but the most likely source seems to be WikiLeaks.’

‘And how did WikiLeaks get them? From the Russians?’

‘Almost certainly.’

‘So how did the Russians get them?’

‘This is where it gets a bit murky,’ the ambassador replied. ‘It looks as though some FSB-related units hacked into the Democratic National Committee and then into Caroline Mann’s own emails. But all this is still pretty speculative. The odd thing is that apparently the FBI has also got a whole lot of compromising material on the Craig campaign, too. But so far it hasn’t announced any plan to release it.’

‘No favouritism there then?’ Barnard chuckled.

They spent a few moments checking Barnard’s schedule for the next day. ‘You’ve got meetings at the Treasury in the morning, then lunch at the IMF,’ Boles told him. ‘Then drinks here tomorrow evening. Lots of people keen to meet the new chancellor of the exchequer. We’ll get you to Dulles in time for the last flight back to Heathrow.’

‘Sounds fun,’ Barnard said.

‘Oh, by the way,’ Boles added. ‘We left a gap in your schedule after lunch. If you’re up for it, you could call in at the FBI. Wilbur Brown is very keen to see you. Nothing to do with finance. That’s why we haven’t put it on your formal schedule. As far as I understand, it’s something to do with that trip you made to the Russian Far East. Something they need to check. He didn’t say much on the phone. Just said he would greatly appreciate it if you could spare a moment.’

‘Pretty much like a Royal Command, isn’t it?’ Barnard commented.

‘That’s what I thought too,’ said Boles. ‘You can use my car tomorrow. I won’t need it. If you’re summoned to the FBI, you may as well arrive in an armour-plated Rolls Royce, don’t you think?’

‘Sounds good to me,’ Barnard agreed. ‘I don’t want anyone else taking a pot-shot at me.’

Rosie Craig arrived moments later. She gave Barnard a big hug.

‘It’s so good to see you again,’ she said. ‘Last time we met you had just been bitten by a deadly poisonous spider and now you’re the new secretary of the Treasury.’

Barnard returned the greeting. ‘In the UK, I’m called chancellor of the exchequer. Pretty much the same job as your Treasury secretary’s, except you guys have a lot more money.’

Rosie turned to her hosts. ‘Jack’s on his way. He’s on the phone to Dad. Dad wants Jack to endorse his candidacy, but Jack’s playing hard to get. Says Dad has to change his tune on global warming and promise to stand by the Paris agreement. Just for starters.’

Sir Andrew Boles laughed. ‘Good luck with that. There’s going to be a sigh of relief all round, if your father changes tack on that one.’

When Jack Varese finally arrived, they went straight on into dinner in the small, private dining room.

‘Rosie was telling us before you arrived that you’ve been talking to her father about global warming,’ Andrew Boles said, once they were settled. ‘Can you tell us what he said, or it a secret?’

Jack Varese laughed. ‘Nothing’s a secret in this town. People know what you’ve said, before you’ve said it.’