Kompromat

Fletcher waited for a man with a plate of canapés to pass, then he said, ‘Between you and me, there’s a lot of dirty pool going on in this election. The release of those emails has hurt Caroline Mann badly. The Mann campaign is putting a lot of pressure on the FBI Director, Wilbur Brown, to show a bit more even-handedness. Now you guys could help there. You could help a lot. Your man, Martin Silver, reported that Craig featured in that Golden Shower tape. If you could come out with a statement saying there is there is strong and credible evidence that Ronald Craig was indeed implicated, then that could really swing things in Caroline Mann’s favour.’

It was as close to a direct plea for assistance as the ambassador could get without being overtly partisan. In a way, Harry Stokes felt sorry to have to disappoint him. The Fletchers had been fun. They had transformed the atmosphere at Winfield House. Pop stars had sung there. Jazz concerts had been staged there. Prince Charles and the Duchess of Cornwall, as well as the young royals, had popped in on a regular basis. But the day Craig was elected president would be the day the Fletchers received their marching orders.

‘Oh dear,’ Harry Stokes said. ‘We couldn’t support that kind of statement. Apart from the fact that we don’t get involved in other people’s elections – officially, at least – all the “strong and credible evidence” – to use your words – we have, indicates that Ronald Craig was absolutely not the man on the bed in the Kempinski. On the contrary, we think the culprit’s a fellow from the FSB St Petersburg, called Fyodor Stephanov. Your people ought to check that out before you finger Ronald Craig.’

Warren Fletcher drained his glass. He checked his watch. ‘I’m going to scoot,’ he said. ‘We had word last night that Wilbur Brown plans to make a statement this morning. I need to contact him. Can I name you personally as the origin of this information? He’ll have to decide what to do with it.’

Harry Stokes shook his head. ‘Best not. We’re still trying to keep our hands clean on this one.’

‘What about calling you a “very reliable source”?’

‘I’ll settle for that.’

Just as Harry Stokes was preparing to leave, he noticed Gennadiy Tikhonov, the Russian ambassador, standing by himself with a glass of champagne in his hand. In the months since he became foreign secretary, Stokes had been at least twice to social events at the ambassador’s residence in Kensington Palace Gardens and had returned the hospitality in one of the Foreign Office’s own glittering reception rooms, the Council Chamber of the Old India Office.

Tikhonov was a large, cheerful man. He waved his glass as Stokes approached. ‘Hello, Foreign Secretary, what a wonderful occasion! Next time President Popov will bring a lovely Amur tiger-cub as a present for your marvellous zoo.’

‘Fantastic! Room for lots more tigers here!’ Stokes waved his arm at the large, leafy enclosure.

The two men shook hands warmly. Officially Britain was still taking a tough line on sanctions, but Stokes didn’t see why that should prevent him from having cordial personal relations with one of Russia’s top diplomats.

The two men stood together for a moment watching the clubs playing.

‘I see you were talking to our good friend Warren Fletcher,’ Tikhonov said. ‘I am sure we will all be sorry to see him go. I imagine Mr Craig has already picked his successor.’

‘What makes you so sure Craig is going to win the election?’ Stokes asked.

‘Some little bird told me.’ Tikhonov smiled.

CHAPTER FORTY

Wilbur Brown, director of the FBI, had the television on in the corner of his office.

Gina Paulson, Vixen TV’s star presenter, was asking her nationwide audience: ‘Will Caroline Mann lose the election because the FBI has decided to make a further investigation into the way she handled her emails?

‘Back in July,’ Gina Paulson continued, ‘the FBI undertook a major investigation of the way Caroline Mann used a personal email server to handle top-secret and confidential messages. After examining some 30,000 messages, FBI analysts concluded that a large number of top-secret and confidential messages from and to several departments of government, including the State department, had indeed been handled on Mann’s private email server. But instead of pursuing criminal charges, Wilbur Brown, the director of the FBI, let Mrs Mann off with a rap on the knuckles but not much else. All he said was that Mann and her aides had been – and I quote – “extremely careless” – but not criminal with their email practices. But he also told Congress that he would reopen the investigation if – and I quote again – “relevant and substantial” information was uncovered. That now seems to be the case.