Tehran Decree (34 page)

Jansen shook his head in disgust, then realised he
was one of the onlookers himself, just an extra in a real life
movie set that portrayed life as it really was. TV news helicopters
massed at the scene, perilously close to each other, trying to get
the best overall views

It was amazing how quickly news spread, only twenty
minutes ago, it was just a normal traffic area totally devoid of
any sensational views. Now there was no shortage of media
personnel, cameras abounded from different TV stations and
newspapers, with paparazzi photographers tagging along, hoping to
get at least one sensational shot, which might make them a small
fortune.

Jansen sat in the driving seat of his car and looked
at Dutton as the apocalyptic scene rapidly unfolded.

‘I’ll bet the US vice president didn’t expect such a
warm welcome from one of his staunchest of allies,’ said Jansen
behind a sneaky smile.

‘Well he certainly earned it sir.’

‘I hope you’ve got lots of spare time Jeff...because
we’re going to need it for the debriefing report and write up,’
Dutton smiled a skeptical smile, it would read like a thriller, but
the necessary politically correct police writing methodology would
ruin it. It would become unreadable to all but the keenest
criminology student. He wished that he could write it his own way
just once. At least it would have given vent to a long felt
expression of personal freedom.

Chapter Sixty-nine

Sunday morning was normally a rest day for political
indulgences, unless there was a good reason to think otherwise. But
the PM had deliberately fixed the meeting date to confound the
media, whilst also, discretely beefing up the security around
Kirribilli House.

Jensen had parked his car in a public area and made
his way to the PM’s residence. He showed his identity card at the
front gates and walked slowly up to the house. Mrs. Ashcroft, the
Kirribilli house keeper, opened the door almost immediately, as
Jensen was about to ring the door bell.

‘Please come in commander, they’re expecting you on
the terrace,’ Jansen stepped over the threshold and looked around
the old house, both eyes wide open, it had the ambiance and smell
of statesmanship, and yet at the same time seemed terribly
domesticated. Family heirlooms, candid black and white photos, some
with a tinge of sepia from a bygone age, dominated the main
rooms.

The house keeper renewed her smile and directed him
through the house and into the rear gardens, where a group of men
were talking quietly.

There didn’t seem to be any undue increase in
security, and the media was totally absent, although this was
almost certainly an illusion.

Jensen recognised all four men present as he stepped
onto the patio with an outstretched hand towards the PM, who was
talking with the defence minister. To the left of the terrace
amongst the roses was the ASIO Director and the Governor General,
admiring and discussing the pros and cons of large rose gardens in
public spaces. The PM introduced the other politicians and directed
them towards the shaded garden area.

. It was down to business as they all took their
places at the polished glass table, which had been tastefully
covered by a patterned lace table cloth; a turn of the millennium
present from Nottingham city council in the UK .

Jensen handed the PM his written report along with
other relevant documents, a deliberately constrained smile graced
his features.

‘It’s all there sir,’ the PM looked sullen as he
accepted the large manilla envelope.

‘I’m sure its all there commander. However, before we
proceed, I would like to hear your own personal story first -- and
commander, don’t pull any punches,’

‘Right sir, as you wish,’ Jansen took a sip of lemon
tea and touched his lips with his napkin. He looked into the garden
vista conjuring up the right expressive sentiments.

‘What we have here sir is a criminal triad of
unprecedented dimensions. To the person in the street unfamiliar
with the political machinations of the present day, it would be
quite unbelievable.

Vice president Jenkin’s made a deal with Muslim
extremist Farid Kazeni over the phone. For thirty million dollars
he gave Kazeni the complete itinerary of US president Garner’s
visit to Australia.

Kazeni then contacted police commissioner Chester and
arranged to pay him ten million dollers if he gave them secret
tunnel information and allowed them free passage through the
tunnels during the siege,’ The PM stared intensely at Jansen

‘So Chester sold his soul for ten million
dollars?’

‘Not quite sir...Chester was strongly addicted to
marihuana and Kazeni was his supplier. He got all the drugs he
needed for free, provided he left the BIB alone. Of course he had
to make it all look legitimate, and so he botched the tunnel siege
so that the BIB would get away with it.’

‘But how does Jenkin’s fit into this, surely he
wouldn’t sacrifice his career and betray his country for a mere
thirty million.

‘Stranger things have happened sir, but you’ve got to
realise that Jenkins was politically driven and power mad. He had
spent millions on his political campaigns over the years and was
now heavily in debt. Indebtedness would be his ruination if the
public found out about it, and so he was desperate for money,’ at
the mention of money, the ASIO director’s normally bland features
brightened.

‘Speaking of money commander we know 10 million is in
Rosey Chester possesion...but we’re not sure about where the rest
is?’

Jansen smiled knowingly and walked over to the drinks
tray, poured himself a whiskey, adding a splash of soda.

He sat down in front of the ASIO director.

‘At the moment sir, this is just a good theory.
Clement Chester was murdered and strung up by the BIB, while his
wife was at a Ladies Club meeting...he had become a liability to
their cause and was therefore expendable.

The BIB planned the terrorist operation right down to
the finest detail. The moment they realised the police commissioner
could be bought with drugs, and the US vice president with money,
they played it for all it was worth.

Jenkins arranged a low key visit to Australia to pick
up the money the BIB owed him,’ the defence minister finished his
coffee and interjected.

‘But surely commander he could have simply had it
credited in an account in the US without leaving the country.’

‘True he could, but Jenkins was ever cautious of his
high profile position, and any account dealings would have left an
electronic trail,’ the PM frowned.

‘So it was cash in the hand then commander.’

‘That’s right, except Jenkins didn’t even want to
dirty his hands with the cash, so he instructed they convert it
into diamonds, which were so much easier to hide.’

The governor general rubbed his chin. ‘Why didn’t the
BIB just keep all the money,’ Jansen smiled impishly.

‘You mean double cross the US vice president...I
don’t think so sir. There was no way the BIB could have stood up to
the most powerful man in the world, who was both United States
president, and as corrupt as they were.

Jenkins was more than capable of annihilating the
BIB, he could easily have arranged a preemptive strike behind their
backs at anytime.

Ever the resourceful man, he arranged for two
possible outcomes to cover his back. His first great ambition was
to be permanent president of the United States by removing Garner
at the first opportunity, and he almost succeeded. But when that
failed he had a ready made second plan. He made a deal with the
BIB, and insisted they pay him for the information he gave them in
diamonds.’

The PM helped himself to a double whiskey and topped
the glass up with tonic water. He surveyed his immaculate
collection of roses, strolled around the upper garden terraces,
turned round and squinted at Jensen.

‘Jenkins had it made then!’

‘Apparently...unfortunately for him he finally bumped
into reality.’

‘So where did they make the diamond drop then
commander?’

‘Once again sir, Jenkins cautious nature came into
play. Since the BIB had easy access to Clement Chester, dead or
alive, Jenkins suggested that they arrange a dead drop in Chester’s
coffin.’ The governor general had so far listened with growing
incredulity.

‘You mean they stowed the forty million dollars worth
of diamonds beneath Chester’s dead body...and they were there
throughout the entire funeral service?’

‘Yes, but they were actually in his coat pockets,
both were stuffed to the brim with white diamonds,’ the PM took
another large gulp of whiskey and tonic and initiated a doubtful
grimace.

‘How do you know this commander?’ Jensen picked up
his attaché case opened it and took out two black velvet bags.

He deposited the contents on the table. Two large
clumps of soiled gem stones covered in carbonised fabric occupied
the centre of the table.

‘I’m afraid Chester’s dead body and the Vice
president were both incinerated in the fireball following the
crash. But these babies weren’t,’ Jansen ran his fingers through
the slimy collection of carbonised debris and tarnished stones.

Suddenly realising the enormity of it all, the PM
grasped the manilla envelope and held it firmly to his chest.

‘So the official story is all in here then
commander?’

‘That’s right sir...a complete write-up’

The PM abruptly turned and walked into the house then
keyed in a number on the phone. Jansen gazed at the governor
general his curiosity getting the better of him.

‘What’s the PM doing sir?

“He’s probably talking to the media right now,
putting a positive spin on things,’ the ASIO director looked
contemptuously at the governor.

‘You mean he’s covering his own arse.’

‘So much for Sunday meetings without the media,’
Jansen muttered. His mobile buzzed and Dutton’s voice came through
the earpiece.

‘There’s a call from the Canberra office sir, an
urgent case has come up.’

‘Right Jeff, be with you in a tick,’ Jansen looked
around at the gardens, it was a lovely place for Sunday tea, but
politics had spoilt the ambiance, and as far as he were concerned,
the tea party was over. He gazed at the PM still avidly talking on
the phone and turned to the others.

‘Well it seems he’s got what he wants...my regards to
you gentleman, and please excuse my absence to the PM, but I have a
security firm to run in Canberra,’ Jansen smiled politely, sprinted
across the well manicured lawns and paused briefly at the gate to
flash his security card.

Chapter Seventy

It began to rain as Jansen reached his car; he
quickly slipped behind the steering wheel.

‘Thank god that’s over.’

‘You gave the PM the reports then sir?’

‘Yes...he’s playing politics with them at this
moment.’

‘What did he say about the Clement Chester life story
expose?’

‘Nothing, I was about to brief him on Chester’s
biography when he shot off with the reports...eager to disseminate
the info to the world and pull his own chestnuts out of the fire.
That means he won’t be privy to the caveat Mrs. Chester sent
me.’

‘The caveat sir?’Jansen dipped into his inside pocket
and produced a DL sized envelope addressed to himself.

There was a massage written on the back of the
envelope, it said...

Commander Jansen: Open Only On My Death

Mrs. Rosey Chester

Jansen passed the Letter to Dutton, he opened it out
and read the first line...

To Commander Roger Jansen

My Dear Commander

I know you are a trustworthy man...my senses tell me
this, and they are never wrong. I trust your judgment implicitly --
over the last few months my own judgment has been seriously
wavering. I’m afraid Alzheimer's disease is beginning to take its
toll and I can’t remember things like I used to. This being the
case, I decided to put a caveat on publishing Clement’s life story.
I feel that my days here without Clement are numbered, and I could
pass on at any moment.

I have therefore instructed the publishers, via the
caveat, to follow your instructions as to whether to publish the
book or not. The choice is yours...I’m sorry to put this burden on
you commander, but your mind is much clearer than mine. I can no
longer make a clear decision, and there is too much political
wrangling for my liking.

I wish you all the luck with this case, but please
remember, when you come to judge Clement Chester. Every stick has
two ends and they point in opposite directions, but they fuse in
the middle. Clement was like that stick, he was no worse or better
than most other men...he was just terribly misunderstood.

Kindest Regards

Rosey Chester

Dutton looked searchingly at Jansen.

‘Are you going to stop its publication sir?

‘Hardly Jeff -- would you prevent the callapse of a
government knowing it was full of corrupt, conniving weasels.’

‘Probably not sir.’

‘In any case, who am I to stand in the way of truth;
if I were to prevent the book being published, I would be just as
guilty as those about to be exposed. Truth is the only true
reality, everything else is rubbish.’

‘The big wigs aren't going to like it sir.’

‘That’s unfortunate, and by the way, I forgot one
other thing about truth...it’s also a bitter pill to swallow.’

‘Meaning exactly what?’

‘I was thinking of the rather strange SUV incident in
the dessert just after the MOAB was dropped.’

‘Oh yes, you never did explain that sir.’

‘It makes for some very interesting deductions...you
see there are only three places that this nasty event could have
originated.

The Americans, the Muscat authorities, and the
Australian government.