The God Game. Jeffrey Round
Читать онлайн книгу.
client once who lost everything to some unscrupulous sorts who loaned him the cash. In the end, there was nothing he could do but sign over everything he owned. I wasn’t able to save him. There was no question of violence against him, just compulsive behaviour that led to significant loss. I heard he made it back in two years and lost it all over again. It’s a significant illness.”
“I know a thing or two about addiction.”
Will regarded him shrewdly. “You’re quite the drinker, as I recall.”
“Was. Past tense.” Dan nodded thoughtfully. “Do you know a journalist named Simon Bradley?”
Will’s mouth twisted into a hollow smile. “The muckraker. Of course. And not half the journalist his grandfather was, unless you count digging up scandal as journalism. I’ve had to threaten him with legal action on behalf of the government more than once. He always skirts the edges of what’s legally acceptable with his reporting and his dubious sources. What’s he done now?”
“Nothing so far as I’m concerned. But he seems to think Tony’s disappearance is connected to John Wilkens’s death.”
“The MPP who committed suicide? How?”
“Bradley thinks Wilkens was murdered.”
Will’s expression darkened for a second, then he shook his head and laughed. “That sounds like Bradley all around. Trying to make something of nothing.”
“Is there any chance Wilkens could have been murdered for a cover-up?”
“Cover-up of what?”
“Bradley thinks it has to do with the power plant cancellations a couple years back.”
“That issue is dead. What happened was disgusting, but as far as I know it’s all come out in the wash.”
“Bradley thinks otherwise. And he believes it got John Wilkens murdered.”
Will glanced off, as though gathering scraps of thought in the dark corners of his mind. “It’s politics,” he said at last. “It’s a nasty business. Many have killed for it and many more have died.”
“So it’s possible.”
“Possible, yes. Likely, no. Wilkens was suspended for suspected misappropriation of funds. The allegations against him were pretty serious. Everyone seems to think he committed suicide to avoid the charges that no doubt would have been coming his way down the line. I’ve been looking into some of them, in fact. I can’t discuss —”
Dan put up his hands. “I’m not asking you to do that. I was just wondering what you might have heard.”
“I can’t think of any connection between Tony Moran and John Wilkens, except that John was the opposition critic for Peter’s boss, Alec Henderson, as you’ve probably discovered.”
“I had.”
“Other than that, I doubt there was much opportunity for their paths to cross. John was old money and a long-time Conservative with an attractive wife. Tony and Peter are working-class boys, openly gay, and pretty far left as Liberals go. I always wondered why Hansen wasn’t with the NDP. In any case, the abyss between them and John would have been very wide.” He paused. “Funny thing, though. John was said to be a likely candidate for House Speaker if the Conservatives ever got back in power. It shows a willingness to put aside his own views in the interests of impartiality. Maybe that indicates an ambivalence in his political views. Who can say how deep his convictions really were?”
“Have you heard of any behind-the-scenes shenanigans by people trying to fix elections?”
Will’s expression was incredulous. “Fix elections? You meaning rigging ballot boxes and such? That’s Third-World politics, Dan. It doesn’t happen here.”
“What about people hired to help swing votes by the manipulation of media buzz, and so on.”
Will laughed gently. “That happens all the time. They’re called opinion makers. Sure, there is always something afoot. ‘Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,’ as they say. It’s completely legal, so long as you don’t say anything untrue about the candidates. If you do, you’re going to be facing libel charges. Probably from me.”
Dan shook his head. “What about someone hired to damage political careers? Making sure candidates are sidelined for one reason or another?”
“Hired by whom?”
“I don’t know. This is the theory Bradley’s working on. He tells me there’s an individual who can make things happen to promising candidates, who then quietly or otherwise fade from prominence. He calls him or her the Magus.”
“Like some sort of mysterious conjuror? C’mon! You’re kidding me.”
“I’m not.”
“A fixer, in other words. Someone who can make or break a promising career.” Will shook his head. “While it sounds good on paper, it doesn’t work that way in reality. It’s the popular vote that counts. Look how many people voted for Mayor Ford in the last election. Even after that crack-smoking video surfaced, the man is still popular. There’s no accounting for stupidity, Daniel. You know what they say: people get the government they deserve. All we can do is put up a better candidate and hope good sense will prevail next time.”
“One would hope.”
Will glanced at his watch. “I’m sorry to cut things short. I’ve got a caucus meeting in five minutes. One of the parties is hiring a campaign strategist for the upcoming election. Apparently my opinion is important.” He smiled. “My mundane life. You know how it goes.”
Dan stood. “Thanks for your time, Will. I appreciate your candour. You were the first person who came to mind when I heard Bradley’s allegations. I also thought it would be good to catch up.”
“I wish you luck in finding Tony. For what it’s worth, and totally off the record, I never believed Peter and Tony would last. I always felt Tony was too lightweight for a political spouse. Maybe he’s just trying to get away.”
Dan nodded knowingly. “And taking the bank accounts with him. It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“And for what it’s worth …” He held Dan’s gaze. “I don’t think John Wilkens was murdered.”
“I didn’t take the allegations too seriously. I just wondered what you thought.”
Will held out his hand. They shook.
“Watch out for Bradley. He’s trouble. In the meantime, if I hear of anything, I’ll let you know. You know what they say — the walls have ears. Doubly so in politics.”
“Thanks. I’ll do the same.”
Six
The Devil’s Bible
Dan left Queen’s Park and headed east, armed with the list of addresses Peter Hansen had said his husband frequented. He’d been right in thinking them gambling dens of various sorts. The first two looked as though they’d been visited by legal authorities not long before he got there. Heavy padlocks and wire grills pulled across the entrances warned would-be bet-makers that their luck had run out, at least for now.
If Tony Moran gambled for excitement, Dan knew, then chances were it wasn’t simply the lure of the wager that attracted him, but also the need to be where he could share the roller-coaster highs and lows of winning and losing. In that case, the fixed-wage betting booths like Champions on the Danforth, where old men in short-sleeved shirts and linen trousers hung about on the sidewalks waiting for a favourite horse to come in, would not have held his interest long. No, it would have to be someplace grittier, someplace disreputable. Winning in public had its appeal, but for the type of gambler who likes the thrill of beating the odds, an audience of peers is required. Or maybe there were other factors sending Tony to dens in dismal basements. Loans, for one thing.