Channelling people’s mistrust, anger and disenchantment was enough.
‘And I’m not so blind that I can’t see why you wanted me to go there. You wanted me to see Arthur Fried so I would want to fight him too,’ Lia said.
‘Well, do you?’
Lia admitted she did. Sitting in that audience, the sickening dread that Fried and his shock troops might actually enter Parliament had been all too real.
How could it be possible for a party like Fair Rule to win even a single seat? Lia wondered out loud. Of course, believing that they would be able to accomplish much in Parliament was difficult, since the other parties would hardly stand for Fair Rule’s outrageous declarations.
‘Their ideas definitely do offend a lot of people. But that won’t stop them from growing,’ Mari said.
The rise of tiny right-wing extremist parties had been one of the greatest political changes Europe had seen in recent years. Mari reeled off the countries where groups like Fair Rule had gained representation in town councils and Parliaments: France, the Netherlands, Austria, Hungary, Switzerland, Italy, Bulgaria, Slovakia, Denmark, Sweden, Norway… Of course the parties were different in each country, but two things united them. First, they were built around a strong leader and, second, they opposed immigration, ethnic minorities and gay rights. Mari reminded Lia that Finland had its own version of the phenomenon. The ‘True Finns’ were not a blustering far-right party, but they were populist, reactionary and racist.
‘The problem is that there are a lot of people who think that things should just be allowed to play themselves out,’ Mari said. ‘No matter what bad things happen, they don’t intervene. They appeal to freedom of speech and claim that we should always be civil to others and respect their opinions. So to all intents and purposes Fair Rule can do and say almost anything.’
Educated women like Mari and Lia were especially likely to oppose the issues pushed by parties like Fair Rule. But most of them did nothing about it.
‘I’m not going to stand around waiting for Fair Rule to grow. Some things need protecting. Social order, for example.’
Lia nodded. She recognised herself in Mari’s words, her own unwillingness to intervene.
They had to get closer to Fair Rule’s operation, Mari said. By this point they had sifted through more or less everything ever written about Fried. They needed more material. They needed someone who could observe the party’s work at close quarters.
‘Like a volunteer,’ Mari suggested. ‘All the parties use them. There were a lot of them at the ice arena, weren’t there?’
Lia took a few seconds to realise what Mari was suggesting.
‘You want me to join Fair Rule?’
‘If you want to. But we can find someone else if we need to.’
‘I don’t want to be anywhere near that crowd,’ Lia said. ‘What could I do there anyway? Isn’t this more Paddy’s territory?’
Paddy would be a good fit for the job, Mari admitted. A big white man with a buzz cut would fit in perfectly. But Paddy was frequently tied up with other assignments for long periods of time. He also avoided gigs where he had to work with people as himself. That didn’t sit well with a private detective.
Mari listed the reasons Lia was a good candidate. She seemed so normal that she wouldn’t arouse any suspicions. She had already met party workers at the arena. And any party would welcome with open arms a volunteer who knew graphic design. Parties needed placards, brochures, bulletins and websites.
‘And besides, if I have you there observing things, I’ll feel almost like I’m looking at the place with my own eyes. You see the world almost the same way I do.’
Lia understood but still hesitated.
‘I don’t know if I’m up to it. I’ve never done anything like it before. Spying on people.’
‘I know,’ Mari said. ‘And no one is going to force you to do it. I’m just giving you the opportunity. We agreed that you always get to decide what you do.’
Lia thought for a moment.
I must be crazy. Mari definitely is. But I’m going to do it anyway.
‘OK,’ Lia said. ‘If it starts feeling too hard, we’ll handle it some other way.’
This time she did not want to make up any complicated cover story. Perhaps her own background would do.
‘Hmm, that could work, but we have to think through the basics,’ Mari said. ‘At least don’t tell them your real name or any other personal details. Tell them you’re a graphic designer. If they ask anything else, change the subject. Maybe say that your boyfriend got you interested in Fair Rule.’
‘Sounds good,’ Lia said. ‘My boyfriend is a neo-Nazi. I just love a man in uniform.’
Mari smiled, but Lia noticed how quickly her smile evaporated.
The Fair Rule party offices were crammed into three rooms above a shop on Epping High Street at the end of the Central Tube line. Apparently the party lacked the funds to pay London rents. Lia had rung ahead to ensure they were taking volunteers for office work.
‘Miss, if you’d like to help, come on down,’ the man who answered the phone had said.
Since she was still on holiday, Lia didn’t bother getting up early, so she didn’t arrive at the office until eleven o’clock.
The place didn’t look like the efficient command centre of a political movement. What it looked like was a tatty office with people trying to cope with the issues flooding through the door and out of the telephones and computers. There was no shyly making her way in all alone. If anything, she had to dodge the flow of traffic to avoid being knocked down.
Arthur Fried was nowhere to be seen, but Lia had expected as much. The party had to have other uses for its leader’s time than sitting in an office.
She presented herself to the man whose desk was closest to the front door.
‘Hi, I’m Lia. I’ve come to volunteer.’
‘Great, Lia. What can you do?’
‘I’m a professional graphic designer. I can do newspaper layouts and…’
‘What you are is an angel from on high,’ the man said and pointed to the next room. ‘That’s the media centre. You can find coffee and tea in that corner there. Welcome aboard to helping us get Britain back.’
He had clearly repeated this greeting hundreds of times.
The media centre consisted of two desks, three computers and three busy people. The two older men in collared shirts and jeans were Stephen and Simon. The younger one, Tim, had the same kind of buzzcut as the men at the ice arena, but his clothing was not so dominated by black. They were delighted to hear that Lia knew graphic design.
‘Excellent,’ Tim said. ‘I’ve been trying to handle the design work, but what I do always comes out pretty crap. Now I can concentrate on writing.’
Three hours later, Lia had designed the poster and flyer for Fair Rule’s next London event, chatted with a couple of party activists she had met at the arena and realised to her relief that no one in the office had time for delivering harangues about putting immigrants in their place or closing the borders. The political content came out of meetings between party operatives, and the day-to-day work of the office was just getting the message out the door.
‘Is Arthur Fried here much?’ Lia asked.
Stephen smiled. This was obviously a typical question for newcomers.
Fried was at the office for a brief time almost every day when he was in London, Stephen explained. Usually he popped by in the evening after his various appearances and meetings. He usually sat in the back room, where the party secretary, Tom Gallagher, worked.
‘They always say that anyone can come back and talk about anything, politics or new ideas. But no one ever bothers. Still, it’s good that they’re around and available.’
Lia worked until six in the evening, but Fried did not appear.
‘Will you come again? Please say you will,’ Stephen pleaded when he saw her preparing to leave.
‘Yes, I think I will. I may have time at weekends.’
/>
‘You’re welcome anytime. Come tomorrow or Sunday, if you can. We have to prepare materials for three more events.’
‘Do you work on Sundays too?’
Stephen snorted.
‘With a potential election looming, there’s no such thing as a day off.’
Lia returned to the Fair Rule office on Saturday evening. She had verified online that Arthur Fried was supposed to be in London. He had a public meet-and-greet session and three party discussion forums.
At the party office, Stephen was delighted to see her, immediately dumping the templates for the upcoming events in her lap and telling her where to find the pictures and text that needed setting.
It’s strange how easily people can adapt to almost anything, Lia thought as she placed and resized slogans for Fair Rule events in Glasgow, Manchester and Edinburgh.
As they worked, Stephen asked Lia what had got her interested in Fair Rule. Lia told him briefly about her boyfriend, who had been to a party event and convinced her to join too. This explanation seemed to pass muster.
At half past nine, Arthur Fried stepped into the office. No one could fail to notice his arrival, and many of the workers rushed to ask him about various situations they were dealing with.
‘Arthur, do you want people to come up to Manchester? We need to reserve the buses if we’re taking a big group.’
‘Arthur, there hasn’t been any activity on your blog for more than a month. We’re already getting complaints. What should we write?’
Don’t these people have any operational leadership? Do they ask Fried about everything?
The operational leadership walked in after Fried. Lia soon saw that Party Secretary Tom Gallagher was the one who had all the answers, but everyone still wanted to have contact with Fried.
Fried smiled and answered briefly. Tired-looking Dorrie, who was saddled with the cleaning, making coffee and other office chores, he patted on the back. Lia thought Dorrie’s job was pure torture, because everyone else was always leaving a mess. Fried praised Stephen and Simon for the news release they had sent to the foreign press about the Better Britain programme.
Fried also noticed Lia.
‘A new face? Arthur Fried. Glad to have you aboard,’ he said, shaking her hand and looking her in the eye.
‘Good to be on board,’ Lia said, looking at Fried carefully.
In a second he had lost interest in her and moved on.
He works like an assembly line. That was a fine show of human warmth. What would Mari have seen in him just now?
Fried continued into the back room with the party secretary. They left the door open, but as Stephen had observed earlier, no one went in to continue any of their conversations.
As she worked, Lia walked past the door a few times, looking in as she went. Gallagher sat at the desk making notes on the computer while Fried sat in an old armchair dictating short instructions. A secretary and a boss, Lia concluded. The party secretary was an influential figure, but he stayed in the background to allow Arthur Fried room to shine.
A lot of what Fried says probably comes out of Gallagher’s head. Interesting. The devil in the detail.
As the evening wound down, Lia found that she had not made much progress in her intended assignment. She had worked obediently, but except for some superficial acquaintance with the people in the office, she did not know much more about the party.
On Sunday morning, she rang Mari.
‘I don’t know if this is going anywhere.’
The brainwork and real leadership seemed to happen somewhere other than at the party office.
‘If you want to stop, stop. How about we go out tonight,’ Mari suggested.
‘No. I want to try a little more. I have a sort of… vihi.’
Mari laughed at the Finnish word.
‘Are you my bloodhound now?’
She knew how Lia felt: she had a sense there was something to find, so she just had to soldier on.
Lia set out for the Fair Rule office in the morning this time. The supply of layout work showed no signs of running out.
On Sundays fewer people were around the office and the pace was slower, which left Lia time to wander around holding a coffee mug listening to people’s conversations.
Dorrie was happy to have someone notice her other than to ask for more coffee or toilet rolls.
She said that her husband had been one of the founding members of the party. He had died four years ago. Dorrie was a widow of limited means in her sixties and childless. She did not know what else to do but come to the office. She had been coming there most days for more than ten years.
‘I don’t care much for politics,’ she said. ‘But after Lee’s death, I was away for two months, and then when I came back I realised that I felt better for it. Being involved in something does the head and the heart good.’
‘I know what you mean,’ Lia said.
Early in the evening, a heated exchange came from Gallagher’s office, making everyone raise their gaze from their work in surprise.
‘I’m not changing one bloody word. If you can’t accept it, go and find another party,’ Gallagher shouted.
The door flew open, and Lia saw a young man by the name of Gareth Nunn march out of Gallagher’s office. Lia had only exchanged a few words with Nunn and did not have any connection to him, but she noticed the other workers lowering their eyes as he fetched his coat.
‘Cheers,’ Nunn snapped, his face pale, as he stormed out the door.
Lia only had seconds to make her decision. Grabbing her own coat, she yelled to Stephen that she was going out for some air and went after Nunn.
Not particularly smooth, but I have to try something.
She caught Nunn on the street and grabbed him by the shoulder.
‘Hey, what was that all about, Gareth?’ Lia asked.
Nunn stared at her angrily.
‘What the hell business is it of yours?’
‘It isn’t really. I’ve just been wondering whether I really belong with those people either.’
Nunn eyed her, surprised at her response.
‘Do you really want to know what kind of people they are?’ he asked.
‘Yes, I do. Let’s go for coffee,’ Lia said, leading him further down the street.
After half an hour chatting with Gareth Nunn, Lia knew she had something significant.
The young man sitting with her in the café was quite impressive. Nunn had studied social policy and political science, travelled the world doing charity work and finally devoted himself to politics. Lia felt like asking how such an intelligent young scholar could get mixed up with this kind of crowd at all, but he told her himself.
‘I joined Fair Rule because our immigration policy isn’t working. Everyone can see the problems, and it’s the one thing the party is right about. But they don’t really want to solve the problems. All their political thought is about is giving the masses a false impression that someone is listening to them. Their solutions to the immigration issue are stupid, or, more like, they don’t have any solutions.’
Nunn had been looking for a conduit for formulating a new, better-managed immigration system. But his ideas were not good enough for Tom Gallagher and Arthur Fried.
‘Fried is a façade for hanging everyone’s hopes on, and he purges all attempts at deeper thought from the party’s statements. Fried tells Gallagher what the people want, and Gallagher writes it.’
They had hoped Gareth Nunn would be the party’s ideas man, and he had been able to participate with Gallagher in writing statements, but the two had quickly fallen out. Arthur Fried had not shown any sort of interest in Nunn.
‘They don’t even think about what they would do in Parliament if they got there. All their energy is channelled into making the party a popular movement. Riding xenophobia all the way.’
Nunn sipped the last of his already cold coffee. He said he was going to make his way home.
‘I have no intention of coming back t
o Epping. It’s clear now that there isn’t any place for me in this party.’
‘I understand,’ Lia said. ‘Thank you for telling me. You’ve made it easier for me to think about whether I want to go on too.’
Did Nunn have any other reasons for leaving besides differences of opinion on politics, she asked in parting.
Nunn glanced at her quickly.
‘Yes, there are other reasons. But I don’t know whether I can talk about them.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t know anything for sure, but I have my suspicions.’
Lia restrained her desire to enquire further.
‘I wouldn’t recommend staying with them,’ Nunn said and left.
Lia returned to the Fair Rule office and continued making up advertisements until evening, but her brain was actually focused on trying to process everything she had just learned.
On Monday at the Studio, Lia delivered her report to Mari, who asked with interest about Gareth Nunn and the other workers in the office, especially Tom Gallagher.
‘Excellent,’ she said once Lia was finished.
In the span of just a few days, Lia had collected a lot of practical information about the party.
‘Do you want to go back?’
‘No, not unless it’s absolutely necessary. Every time I think about what those leaflets are really saying, I start getting angry.’
‘Great. It may be good for you to go back once or twice more until we figure out what Nunn meant about the party’s other problems.’
‘I was thinking that Maggie, Rico and the others could work that out.’
Lia wanted to move back to the Holborn Circus case.
Mari studied her thoughtfully.
‘Surely you don’t intend to go back to those clubs?’
‘No, definitely not.’
She would visit the supermarkets that sold foods imported from the Baltic. At least no one was going to attack her in a food shop.
Cold Courage Page 16