“Embarrassing, though, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it was tricky for a bit,” Jackson admits.
“Did Thomas know about your friendship?”
“Well, he does now,” says Jackson, neatly avoiding the question.
He finishes his coffee and announces that he must go. He checks that no-one can see them and gives Felicity a brief kiss on the lips. She smiles, but says nothing.
******
Two more weeks pass by without any calls from Thomas or Binnie. Jackson is beginning to feel more relaxed. News from the patch has gone quiet and he tells Mack that he and Pete might do the feature on the Fouad Rehabilitation Centre. As the three of them discuss what form the feature might take, Samira comes in, grinning from ear to ear. “Have a look at the email that’s just gone out from Marina’s office,” she says excitedly.
Mack goes into his email folder and within seconds he also breaks into a broad smile. “How fucking wonderful,” he shouts. “Listen to this: ‘Departure of Richard Passick. A brief note to let you all know that Dick has decided to leave us to pursue new opportunities outside broadcasting. His resignation will take effect at the end of the month, but meanwhile, he will be using up the leave that is owing to him. I take this opportunity to thank him for his valuable contribution to our operations over two decades. I am sure he will be in contact with his many friends should he wish to arrange a farewell party. Signed on behalf of Marina Kerner, Head of News.”
“Wow!” exclaims Jackson, “what’s behind that I wonder?”
“Let’s find out,” says Mack as he dials the Foreign Desk. The call is taken by Mary.
“Hi Mary, it’s Mack. We’ve just seen Marina’s email about Dick.”
Mary laughs. “I didn’t think it would take you long to call. The whole place is buzzing with the news. The creepy bastard came in as usual this morning and soon after was called to an urgent meeting with Marina and the Human Resources bosses. After about an hour, he returned to his office, gathered up his things and left without saying a word to anyone. Extraordinary!”
“Well, c’mon, Mary. Tell us why he was fired?” demands Mack impatiently.
“There’s been nothing official, of course, but he recently had a very beautiful intern, just out of university, begin working for him. Within a few days Dick tried it on with her. She brushed him aside, thinking he was an opportunistic old groper, but later on, he invited her out to dinner. She said no, but he didn’t give up. She recorded him on her smartphone just as he began telling her that if she wanted to have a television career she needed to adopt what he called ‘a more positive approach to the social opportunities’ offered her. When she continued to reject his advances, he got angry and told her he was going to terminate her internship.”
“So what happened next?”
“She went straight home and played the recording to her very important father, who went nuts.”
“And her father is?”
“Sir Ivan Biddlestone, a High Court judge.”
“Holy shit!” roars Jackson as the office erupts in gleeful laughter. “This is magnificent!”
“So what happened next, Mary?” asks Mack.
“Well, I believe Biddlestone got straight onto the DG who’s a member of his club in Pall Mall, and the rest is history, as they say. Bye, bye Psycho Passick!”
Samira chips in. “I guess the creep will still walk away with a big pay-off and a confidentiality agreement, so no-one outside the organisation will get to hear what happened.”
“I doubt it, Samira, as one of his many enemies here has apparently leaked it to the Daily Mail, so he won’t be able to hawk himself around as someone who just got bored with the BBC and is looking for new challenges. And he is too young to start drawing his staff pension.”
“I know it’s not nice of me to say this, Mary, but revenge is so sweet.”
“Indeed it is.”
The call ends and Mack, Jackson and Pete return to planning the feature on the Fouad Centre.
******
Jackson and Pete arrive at the Fouad Centre and are greeted by Felicity and her staff. Neither she nor Jackson indicate to Pete that they were once in a relationship. The filming takes a couple of hours as they talk to Felicity, the Arab nurse being trained as her deputy, and several of the child patients. They have the makings of a compelling feature – a mix of sadness and kindness and an inspirational determination by the injured victims to make the best of their lives.
Felicity offers Jackson and Pete a coffee. They are excitedly regaling her with news of the downfall of Psycho Passick when Yassin bursts in saying that Samira has been trying to get in touch.
“Sorry!” mutters Jackson, “our phones have been switched off while we were filming. I’ll call her back as soon as we’ve finished our coffee.”
“No, she say you come back now. She say it important,” Yassin insists.
Jackson switches on his mobile. “Okay. I’ll give her a call.”
“No, no call. You come with me – now!”
Jackson turns to Felicity. “Sorry about this. I’d better do as I’m told. It could be a development with the Soldiers of Allah lot.”
******
As soon as Jackson and Pete arrive back at the bureau, Samira ushers Jackson in to see Mack in his office. They close the door behind them.
“What’s all this about?” asks Jackson with a frown.
“Take a seat, Jacko,” says Mack, “we’ve some sad news for you.”
“Like?”
“I’m afraid your mother’s died.”
“Oh, God! When?”
“About 10 days ago, apparently.”
Jackson is shocked and instantly angry. “Why am I being told only now?”
Samira replies. “I had a call from her solicitor an hour or so ago and she said that your mother gave instructions that in the event of her death you weren’t to be notified until after the funeral and cremation had taken place.”
Tears begin to roll down Jackson’s face. “How did she die?”
“The solicitor said she had a couple of severe strokes, the second one being fatal.”
“Oh God,” says Jackson, “they must have been something to do with the headaches she was complaining about when we had that terrible row a few weeks ago.”
“That’s possible, I suppose,” replies Samira, “but you never know with strokes.”
Jackson slumps forward, his head in his hands. Samira goes out to the work area to tell Pete, Farouk and Yassin what’s happened. Mack gets his whisky bottle from a drawer in his desk and pours himself and Jackson stiff drinks. Mack fidgets uncomfortably, not quite sure how to handle the situation. Eventually, he suggests that Jackson let Pete and Farouk put together the rehabilitation centre feature and that he leave the voice track until tomorrow.
Jackson, now red-eyed, agrees and goes back to his desk. Pete, Farouk and Yassin all tell him how sorry they are. Pete gives him an embarrassed hug and decides that he should take Farouk and Yassin out for a coffee, leaving Samira to help soothe their colleague’s grief.
Jackson unlocks the bottom drawer on his desk and takes out a folder. It contains photographs and stories about his mother and father. He picks out a large black-and-white studio portrait of a pretty girl in her late teens or early twenties and holds it up for everyone to see. “This is her. This is Mother as she was in the 1960s.”
Samira comes over for a look. “Oh, Jacko, she’s so beautiful.”
Jackson picks out a yellowing newspaper clipping with the headline Nixon Must Go. The byline is Roger Dunbar, Washington Correspondent, alongside a portrait of a distinguished grey-haired man wearing a jacket and tie. “Mmm. Your father was so handsome,” says Samira. “I can see something of him in you.”
“I’ve never really thought about it,” Jackson replies as he continues to go through the file. He shows Samira a photograph of his mother standing alongside President John Kennedy in the Oval Office.
Samira is impressed. “
Fancy your mother knowing Kennedy!”
“Oh, I don’t think she knew him at all, but she sure knew how to get herself into celebrity photos,” he replies.
Samira remembers there is something else she needs to tell him. “Um, the solicitor also said that you should look out for an email from his firm because they would be sending you a copy of the will.”
Jackson checks his emails and finds the message. He stares at the screen for a minute, summoning the courage to open the attachment. He takes a deep breath and clicks on it. He studies the contents and tears run down his cheeks.
He turns to Samira. “It’s all gone to animal welfare organisations.”
“Really? Nothing for you?"
He shakes his head. “Doesn’t look like it. See for yourself.”
Samira comes over and reads from the will as Jackson scrolls through it. “Mmm. Battersea Dogs Home, the Cats Protection League, The Horse Trust, The League Against Cruel Sports, and even some swan and owl sanctuaries. Mmm. Your mother obviously loved animals.”
“More than people, I’m afraid,” he shrugs.
Jackson continues to scroll down the page. Towards the end, he sees a sentence that refers to him. It begins: “I have chosen not to provide for my only son Roger Jonathan Dunbar known professionally as Jackson Dunbar and currently a foreign correspondent with the BBC for the following reasons: 1) As I have approached old age, he has failed to behave as a son should towards his mother and…”
Jackson scrolls further down the page to read the rest. Samira continues to look over his shoulder.
“2) I know that if I leave anything to my said son he will use it to feed his gambling addiction.”
Jackson kills the screen, but it is too late. Samira has seen it. “Gambling! Oh, Jacko, so that’s why you’re so short of money all the time!”
Jackson is acutely embarrassed. “She exaggerates. I’m not addicted. I just like the occasional harmless flutter. Anyway, I’m giving it up.”
“Are you sure? Absolutely sure?”
“I’m sure.”
Samira remains unconvinced. “Well, just promise me that if it’s anything more than a ‘harmless flutter’, you will seek professional help.”
“No need to worry about me, Samira. It’s just Mother giving me a farewell kicking. You won’t tell anyone will you?”
“No, of course not – just as long as it doesn’t interfere with your work.”
“Thanks. You’re a gem.”
Jackson closes the file on his mother with a sigh and wipes away his tears. Pete and Farouk return and ask him if he is okay, not knowing what else to say. He assures them that he is alright, so they get to work editing the interviews shot at the rehab centre. “Thanks for doing that, guys,” he tells them. “I’ll put down the voice track in the morning.”
******
Back at his apartment, Jackson pours himself a whisky and studies the file of photographs and newspaper clippings. He finds a photograph of his mother as an older woman and is overcome with sadness. He closes the file and makes a sandwich while he runs a bath.
CHAPTER 27
Jackson wakes up next morning with another hangover and a vague memory that he lost more of this month’s salary on Towering Treasures Inc. He studies himself in the mirror and hates what he sees. He rubs shaving gel into his whiskers and begins shaving himself. As his face reappears through the shaving gel, he feels a flash of anger and smashes his fist into his reflection. The mirror shatters and gashes his hand.
“Fuck!” he screams. He runs to the kitchen and wraps kitchen towels around the injured hand. He returns to the bathroom, cursing his anger and stupidity and rummages through a first aid kit to find a suitable bandage for the wound. He washes the blood away and fixes the bandage into place, then gets dressed.
On arrival at the bureau he finds the team gleefully studying a computer print-out of a page from the Daily Mail. There is a bold headline Exclusive: Beeb boss and the judge’s daughter. It goes into detail about what Dick Passick is alleged to have said to his intern and there is a snatched photograph of him looking uncharacteristically dishevelled as he collects his milk from the doorstep of his Islington apartment. He is quoted as threatening to sue anyone who suggests he has ever done anything improper.
Jackson is pleased to see Psycho get his comeuppance, but is too pre-occupied by his own troubles to spend time gloating. Mack notices the bandage on his reporter’s hand and is told that it was an accident with a kitchen knife and is nothing serious.
Jackson goes through the edited package on the rehab centre with Farouk and puts down the voice track, making sure that there is a reference to where donations can be sent. He is pleased with the finished feature and asks Farouk to forward it to London. Farouk burns a courtesy DVD of the feature for Felicity. Jackson takes it to her, along with news of his mother’s death.
Felicity is full of sympathy, having had her own ups and downs with Lady Dunbar when she and Jackson were lovers. “You really shouldn’t feel bad about your mother,” she tells him as they share coffee in the rehab centre kitchen. “She was attracted to the rich and famous like bees to honey, and she was very upset when she was forced by her parents to marry your father.”
“Why ‘forced to’? Was it a kind of arranged marriage?”
“No, nothing like that. It was a ‘shotgun marriage’, if you’ll excuse that crude term. Surely you knew that?”
“I had no absolutely no idea,” says Jackson, astonished by this revelation.
“Oh dear, I seem to have let the cat out of the bag. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Felicity. Tell me more. I need to know.”
“Well, your mother let it all pour out one day over a few sherries, and she told me she was six months pregnant when she married your father. Her parents were pillars of society and devoted Catholics. They were upset about the shameful possibility that they would have an illegitimate grandchild. An abortion was out of the question, so they pushed her into getting married.”
Jackson goes silent while he takes in this information, then he poses another question: “Do you think she was in love with my father?”
“I don’t know,” Felicity admits. “They were certainly much attracted to each other, but I don’t think parenthood was ever on their agenda. They were party people. He was bewitched by her great beauty and she enjoyed having her social insecurities endlessly indulged by a man who could open doors to a new and glamourous world.”
“So, Mother can’t have been pleased to have me come along and disrupt this life?”
“Well, she didn’t put it quite like that – at least not to me -- but you’ll have to accept that she was not one of life’s natural mothers. I gathered that she didn’t object when your father’s mother – Granny Dunbar – volunteered to bring you up.”
Jackson is dumbfounded by what he has learned, and he and Felicity sit quietly as they finish their coffee.
“Must get back to the grindstone,” Jackson says finally. “Thank you for what you’ve just told me. It explains a lot.”
He gives Felicity a chaste kiss and goes back to the bureau. Further contemplation of what he has just learned about his mother is swept away when he finds Mack keenly watching the CNN monitor which has just announced some breaking news: the Soldiers of Allah website is stating that Bin Hassan has been “martyred” in a drone attack on a building on the outskirts of Armibar.
“Wow, that’s a turn-up!” declares Mack as he calls up the website on his screen. Jackson and Pete gather around to study it. “That might be why everything’s gone quiet,” says Jackson.
The three of them study the screen which displays what appears to be the badly scarred body of Bin Hassan lying on a makeshift stretcher. Beneath the “martyr” announcement is a bold-lettered declaration in Arabic with an English translation: “Allah Will Have His Revenge”.
“Boy, that sure changes the game!” exclaims Jackson. “We’d better do a holding piece for London, then I’ll
investigate further.”
“I’ll look after the holding piece,” says Mack. “You check around our contacts for anything more.”
Pete has been studying the website intently. “Hold on guys, there’s something odd about this,” he warns. He enlarges the picture of Bin Hassan, studies it further then declares: “It’s been Photoshopped! Look closely and you can see that the head doesn’t join up properly with the body. It’s been faked, guys!”
“Shit! But that makes no sense,” says Jackson. Why use a Photoshopped picture instead of the real thing?”
“Maybe his face was too messed up to show,” speculates Mack.
”That’s possible,” says Jackson.
“There’s another thing,” says Pete. “I reckon the head is a frame grabbed from my video of the Bin Hassan interview. It’s from my set-up shots when I filmed him side-on and in close-up. Whoever has done this has snatched a frame with his eyes closed during a blink.”
As they sit thinking about the reasons for the fakery, they see Al-Jazeera is now also running the story of Bin Hassan’s “death” as a fact. Jackson suggests that they should tip off Omar that Al-Jazeera should be cautious about going hard on the death and Samira says she will give him a discreet call.
Mack’s phone rings. It is Harry Kingston on the Foreign Desk in London wanting a ‘matcher’ on the story.
“I’ll do something for you shortly,” Mack tells him, “but we’re going to do a rather careful piece, at least to start with.”
“Why the caution, Mack? It’s as clear as a bell. The official Soldiers of Allah website shows Bin Hassan’s body. The guy’s dead. Why would they claim that he’s been martyred if he’s still alive?”
“That’s what we’re trying to figure out. There’s a smell about it we don’t like. I can’t say any more over the phone.”
“Okay, Mack. But let’s have something very soon. The news desks are already on my back and are chasing the White House and the Pentagon for comments.”
The call ends. Mack starts work on a piece for London. Jackson decides he should pay a quick visit to his apartment on the off-chance that there is something on his answering machine.
The Mortal Maze Page 27