The Last Stand Down

by Philip J Bradbury

  "Oh my God!" said Martin, the laugh quickly falling from his face. "Not the one with the hunting lodge in Ludlow, the apartment in Kensington and the resort in Jamaica? The one with the race horses and mansion just south of here, in Wallington?"

  "Exactly the one," said Arthur, incredulously. "How did you know?"

  "Oh, one of my partners has been working for one of Lord Atkinson's larger claimants, the Empire Aid Bank, the EAB. You know, the development bank that used to be the government department that supplied everything for the empire, from railways to cutlery for the ambassadors."

  "Yes, yes, I know the bank," said Arthur quickly. "They're claiming money for some project in Nigeria ..." He vaguely recalled that was the bank the young Australian was ousted from. 'Greg Cousins, wasn't it?' he wondered to himself.

  "Absolutely, that's the one," said Martin, excitedly. "After the bank was privatised in 1998, it really got into funding in developing countries, using aid money from, mainly, the British, Japanese and Swedish governments."

  "So what's the project in Nigeria?" asked Joan.

  "I'm not sure but what I do know is that the EAB has been having a few slip-ups, lately," said Martin. "Well, it is over 150 years old and, after privatisation, it seemed to develop some holes, some slip-ups."

  "What sort of slip-ups? Large ones?" asked Arthur.

  "All sorts, really - big and small," said Martin, warming to his favourite subject, commercial intrigue. "Since the British colonies have dwindled over the last 100 years, they needed to diversify to keep all the jobs for the boys and girls there. So, they privatised the bank, sort-of, and became an agent for many governments, besides the British one ... and the United Nations aid programme."

  "Sounds like a good cause to me," said Joan.

  "Yes, and that's the problem," said Martin. "When people are dealing with what seems like benevolent work, others are loathe to question or audit that work. For example, the British government's aid department, Department for International Development, DfID, runs no aid programmes but just gives EAB money to dispense as per its requirements."

  "But the DfID must audit or check that spending," suggested Arthur.

  "Well, yes it does, but only superficially, not wanting to take away any jobs from people in the government club and afraid of interrupting these 'benevolent' acts," said Martin. "So, the two-yearly audit is simply a matter of visiting friends at the EAB's London head office, enjoying drinkies and food and listening to two or three inspiring talks on the great works of EAB and watching a video of their amazing success."

  "But they must be doing a lot of good helping these poorer nations, surely?" asked Joan.

  "Oh, absolutely," said Martin, "much of the money does go in the right direction but no one knows how much ... not even EAB! No one in government - or from anywhere else, for that matter - traces each pound ... or even a million pounds. They pay the money to EAB, see a result and assume they're linked!"

  "So where does our Lord Atkinson come into this," asked Arthur.

  "A good question and no one's quite sure, yet," said Martin. "But Simon Cruickshank, the partner I mentioned, knows that Atkinson is great friends with many in the current government and he has, over the years, provided large sums of money to both Labour and Conservative administrations."

  "You're talking about bribery! Surely not!" said Joan, astounded.

  "Not sure. However, what we're very sure about is that the change to privatisation has not been entirely healthy," said Martin. "Instead of employing experts in international development, they've favoured existing staff and moving them sideways, some to their levels of incompetence, one might say. So, when they finally admit they can't do something, they do a quick-fix by bringing in short-term consultants ... who never remain short-term. Because EAB know little of the function they're hiring the consultant for, they don't know whether they're getting valuable consultants or charlatans - it's a bit of a lottery, really."

  "A lottery where cronies of the government, with inside connections, favours and knowledge of available contracts, can take advantage of, like our Lord Atkinson?" said Arthur, suddenly understanding much about the insurance claim that he didn't before.

  "Well, yes, we need to be careful of who we're accusing of what, just yet," said Martin in solicitor mode, "but it seems there's intense competition for these contracts - hand out a million or so, with little checking how you spend it - quite a gift for someone with profit in mind!"

  "And anyone giving out millions to poorer people would gain a lot of friends and favours from those poorer people!" said Arthur, grimly.

  "My God, Dad, you should have been a detective!"

  "Just my cynical insurance mind in overdrive," said Arthur.

  "So, we have the perfect scenario for tossing around government money - many governments' money - to benefit the wrong people," said Martin, smiling at his father with unaccustomed admiration. "And the governments themselves are into it too. For example, the European Union's aid programme provides huge amounts of funds to UE governments to provide aid. But the checking at the EU is as shoddy as in here in England. Some of these governments - the Spanish and Italian ones are apparently the worst offenders - just don't get around to spending all the UE funds they receive and it's a great source of revenue for them - helps their balance of payments deficits considerably!"

  "But that's OUR money, Martin! Don't they care about that?" asked Joan, astounded.

  "Why should they?" asked Martin. "It's not their money and it's free to them!"

  "Well, you look after other peoples' money, other peoples' interests ..."

  "Yes, Mum, most people do but when you've got access to large amounts of power and money, those thoughts of others just seem to slip out the window, somehow. When you create a house with lots of holes and lots of cheese on the floor, the rats turn up!"

  "Oh dear, so what should I do about this work back at AIL then?" asked Arthur.

  "Mmm, sounds like things are hotting up with your Atkinson case, somehow," said Martin.

  "Yes, it all sounds a bit desperate, a bit ... well, dangerous, if you ask me!" said Joan.

  "It also sounds like a lot of fun!" said Martin, rubbing his hands together with glee.

  "Insurance has never been exciting before, for me," said Arthur, feeling a tingle of adventure in his veins. "And, maybe, I could help get some of your money back from these scoundrels."

  "Yes Darling, maybe you could, but I don't like the sound of it," said Joan, "and we were just starting to get along and we're just over mother's funeral and Martin needs help and you now want to go back to work?"

  "Well, I'll be doing it at home," said Arthur, seeing opportunities everywhere. "I'll fit the work in between our family needs."

  "I don't know Arthur ..."

  "Look Mum, Dad needs some excitement in his life," said Martin, standing up for his father for the first time ever. "This could be his chance for that and a chance to really do some good."

  "Yes dear, I would rather relish a challenge like this - you never know where it could lead to!" said Arthur, wondering why he was talking about unknown opportunities, while he took her hands and looked into her eyes earnestly.

  "Oh, I don't know ..."

  "Look dear, let's you and I sit down later and work out what we need to do for each other, for Martin," said Arthur. "Then I can tell Mary what I'm prepared to do. They seem keen to have me at any cost."

  "Yes, but why?" asked Joan, still concerned.

  "And if it doesn't work out, I can simply stop doing the work and hand it back," said Arthur.

  "I don't know about the work but I do know I've never seen you so fired up about anything before," said Joan, still looking concerned. "Maybe it is your chance to do something really special ... I don't know ..."

  "Look, you two," said Martin, "the world won't stop spinning if you do nothing today. Leave it till Monday and call AIL then. If they want an answer before then, just tell them they can't have one - you'll let them know
Monday at, say, ten o'clock. This is your decision, not theirs."

  The Investigation

  Monday, 12th March 2012, 11.00 a.m.

  So it was that Arthur Bayly found himself back on the old map of his life, in Mary's office. She couldn't see that what she wanted she might not get. Or, as Halee, the elfin receptionist from New Zealand said, "They'll get what they need but not in the way they think they need."

  Arthur grinned at that in a way he'd become rather used to lately - hearing something he didn't understand, quite, but knowing he might soon.

  However, understanding was not something Mary was achieving at all. She was under some pressure, Arthur assumed, and needed the job done immediately. Arthur was most surprised - shocked, even - to hear that even Sam had gone. Mary was, effectively, in charge of the Kensington office and, though there were over a hundred thousand clients, this Atkinson one seemed to be her sole concern. She had run out of words to convince Arthur to put his every waking moment into the case.

  Arthur waited a moment for her to stop pacing and to sit down.

  "Mary, I do see that you have rather a lot on your plate. It can't be easy for you," he said. "However, they say it's best to ride the horse in the direction it's going."

  "What, ride a horse?"

  "Oh dear," said Arthur, realising his helpful epithet went straight over her head. "Gosh, ah, what appears to me, Mary, is that you need a job done and there's no one else to do it. You're between an immovable object and an unstoppable force, as Newton might have said."

  "Newton who?"

  "Newton the scientist ... discovered gravity ..." said Arthur, feeling his fingers slipping from yet another cliff edge. "Look Mary, Joan and I have discussed this at length and what I can offer you is three days a week. I will put all my available time into finishing it just as soon as I can. We just have other things we also need to do."

  "But three days, Arthur?" asked Mary, her voice rising with each syllable. "Can you not give us five days a week till this case is completed?"

  "But you asked me what was best for us ..." said Arthur, confused.

  "Yes, yes, I know I did," said Mary, going quite red. "But it's become quite urgent. With Lord Atkinson under surveillance with his Empire Aid Bank activities and now the burglary at his place ... I don't know. All we know is that they want the full details of our investigation and they want them soon."

  "They?" asked Arthur.

  "Aaahh," said Mary, heavily. "There's been an investigation started by the Financial Services Authority, the FSA, who are supposed to control banks and other financial institutions."

  "Yes, yes, I know them," said Arthur, "but they've never been here before."

  "No, they've never really been anywhere before," said Mary, brightening a little. "The reality is, of course, that they were never intended to actually do anything, but just make the public think they were protected from the large financial institutions. These banking institutions actually control the politicians - look how they've been able to wheedle billions from the government when no other industry has."

  "Oh dear, I'd never really thought about it ..."

  "Absolutely, they don't want you to think about it," said Mary, warming to one of her favourite subjects. "As we continue to believe the illusion of the FSA protecting us, we'll keep depositing our money with the banks and repaying our mortgages and credit cards - like dumb milking cows, every day."

  "Oh yes," said Arthur at a loss for words but poignantly reminded of his own imagined references to cows going to work every morning.

  "Just as the American treasury is owned and run by privately-run banks - not by the US government - so it is with our Bank of England," said Mary, obviously on a roll. "The Old Lady of Threadneedle Street, the B of E, was supposed to be the public's watchdog but when it failed to avert a series of scandals in the 1990s culminating in the collapse of Barings Bank, the Financial Services Authority was created to give the public the impression that all was independent and professional, at last."

  "Oh," said Arthur, wondering why he should be privy to this information. The feeling wasn't good.

  "What the man in the street didn't twig to was that the people at the Bank of England who were supposed to be looking after his interests were the same people employed at the FSA," said Mary, obviously keen to tell the entire story. "You see, the government is quite happy for 1,600 honest, industrious steel workers to lose their jobs in Redcar, in the north of England, but it's unwilling to let millionaire bankers lose their luxurious lifestyles - lifestyles they put in jeopardy by their own gross negligence and greed."

  "Gosh," said Arthur, feeling increasingly uneasy. He sat forward as if to rise, hoping to staunch Mary's verbal flow.

  "No Arthur, it's important you know this," said Mary. "As you now know, the bank that committed the worst of these financial excesses - blind avarice at its worst - comes from my own fair Scotland. And they have their own employee in power and when Mr Cameron makes a big enough fool of himself, they'll appoint another Scot - probably a McDougal, McIntyre or some other Scottish name - to the post. God forbid that an Englishman should rule England!"

  "But our politicians are voted in, not appointed!" exclaimed Arthur, appalled at Mary's story.

  "OK, Arthur, which bank got the biggest payout from the British government?" asked Mary.

  "Ah, the Royal Bank of Scotland, I think," said Arthur.

  "And which bank had committed the greatest of the financial atrocities?" asked Mary.

  "The same? The RBS?" Arthur suggested, tentatively.

  "Exactly!" said Mary. "The biggest criminal, so to speak, gets the best treatment. I don't know how it works, or who works it, but the RBS executives continue to pay themselves their millions, annually, and throw away billions on bad investments, knowing they can always milk the cow that never dries up - the government coffers which they control, somehow!"

  "And I thought the English beat the Scots!" said Arthur, chuckling while feeling more than a little queezy at these startling disclosures.

  "Yes they did, Arthur," said Mary. "The English beat the Scots with their guns and then built their mansions and huge estates from the huge incomes they made from the land they stole from us. But we beat them with our money - our loyal British government has ensured that few of those huge, wealthy estates are now financially viable. So, do you know who now owns most of these defunct estates - who has obtained the finance from Her Majesty's Most Loyal government to finance the purchase of them at bargain prices and now make huge profits from showing them to the millions of gawping tourists?"

  "The National Trust?" suggested Arthur.

  "And who actually owns the National trust?" asked Mary.

  "Not the Scots, surely?" asked Arthur, incredulous.

  "I'll leave you to do your own research on that," said Mary, smiling. "It's just the same in the US. After Pearl Harbour, the Americans beat the Japanese with their guns and now the Japanese - well, the Asians, generally - own America. They've disassembled the American car industry and taken it over and, at the moment the US owes China $900 billion and Japan $770 billion. They're the biggest lenders to the US, owning around 44% of it, and so they're the pipers who call the tune, so to speak. America is insolvent and will never be able to repay the debt, just as England is insolvent and will never be able to repay Scotland's debt. The bankers are in charge! Anyway, we digress - back to our little problem with Lord Atkinson."

  "But all the politicians and, well, everyone else, seem to be such good people. Such believable people. Surely this doesn't happen in our civilised society?" asked Arthur, wondering how he'd missed all this and what else was out there, lurking, waiting for him to stumble over.

  "Yes, we would all like to think so," said Mary, smiling sadly. "However, when you move in the financial circles Sam Lord and others do, you'll see the reality is that the banks have their silk-gloved gauntlets firmly round the throats of every senior politician - all very gentlemanly and proper but if any makes a wr
ong move, says the wrong thing, that steel gauntlet closes and our protective police department can be relied on to create all sorts of havoc in a man's life!"

  "No, Mary, not the police too!" said Arthur in disbelief.

  "Look at the facts, Arthur," said Mary, leaning forward. "Every time a politician looks like stepping over that invisible line, there's a police investigation, a messy police investigation and no conclusion or resolution. No one's brought to trial. The poor man just has his property invaded, turned upside down, his name put to question and he quickly falls back into line or disappears like the homosexual magician."

  "Homosexual magician?"

  "He disappeared with a poof!" said Mary, chuckling, while Arthur realised it was a joke he didn't quite get. "Anyway, without going into any more detail just now, Arthur, you need to understand why we're treating this case extremely seriously."

  "The Atkinson case?"

  "Just so," said Mary. "Those who are supposed to be there to protect us just may not be on our side when the chips are down. I just ask that you be careful who you speak to about this."

  "Oh," said Arthur, with real words failing him and a sense of foreboding descending on him like an elevator he's trapped under.

  "So, anyway, enough of that!" said Mary, sitting back a little. "The fact is, Arthur, one of our politicians seems to have upset one of our banks - or maybe a few - and the FSA, doing its real job, is out to put a stop to his shenanigans."

  "Which politician is this?"

  "We don't know yet, but it maybe Lord Atkinson - they're not saying yet," said Mary, shaking her head. "So, to the matter at hand."

  "They're investigating us?"

  "Well, sort of. Their investigation hasn't started but we've been warned, from above, that the Atkinson case could be looked into," said Mary, returning to her harried look. "So, we've got to be very careful to have it completed before they turn up - we want to show how efficient we are to stop the investigation spreading anywhere else. We don't want any questions unanswered. You understand?"