Kompromat

CHAPTER FORTY

Wilbur Brown, director of the FBI, had the television on in the corner of his office.

Gina Paulson, Vixen TV’s star presenter, was asking her nationwide audience: ‘Will Caroline Mann lose the election because the FBI has decided to make a further investigation into the way she handled her emails?

‘Back in July,’ Gina Paulson continued, ‘the FBI undertook a major investigation of the way Caroline Mann used a personal email server to handle top-secret and confidential messages. After examining some 30,000 messages, FBI analysts concluded that a large number of top-secret and confidential messages from and to several departments of government, including the State department, had indeed been handled on Mann’s private email server. But instead of pursuing criminal charges, Wilbur Brown, the director of the FBI, let Mrs Mann off with a rap on the knuckles but not much else. All he said was that Mann and her aides had been – and I quote – “extremely careless” – but not criminal with their email practices. But he also told Congress that he would reopen the investigation if – and I quote again – “relevant and substantial” information was uncovered. That now seems to be the case.

‘The FBI has sought and obtained a court warrant to search a computer used both by former congressman Julius Lomax and his wife Sandra, an aide to Caroline Mann. Having received the warrant, the director of the FBI has told Congress that the FBI is indeed reopening the enquiry into Caroline Mann’s emails.’

Gina Paulson paused to allow the full weight of her next pronouncement to have the effect she intended. ‘Today Caroline Mann’s ratings are in free fall.’

Wilbur Brown switched to another channel. It had become increasingly plain in the course of this election campaign that Vixen TV, the crown jewel in Mickey Selkirk’s global media empire, had long since cast aside any pretence of impartiality. It was totally dedicated to promoting Ronald C. Craig as the next president of the United States. How much money, Brown, wondered, had changed hands? What promises had been made? The truth would come out in the end, he supposed. The FCC would get its act together and ask questions. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe it would be abolished or neutered by the incoming administration and Selkirk Global would take an ever bigger share of the market.

On CBS, Eric Longhurst, the revered anchor of Good Morning America, was putting another slant on the Caroline Mann email story. Brown used the remote to turn the volume up. He had known as soon as he authorized the second investigation that there would be fight back by the Mann campaign.

‘A series of Democratic congressmen,’ Eric Longhurst said, ‘have been taking to the air today to complain about the FBI’s “blatant favouritism” in the presidential race.

‘Here’s congressman Bill Whitelaw, the ranking member of the House Judiciary Constitution and Civil Justice Subcommittee.’

Wilbur Brown knew and respected Bill Whitelaw. He winced involuntarily at the personal nature of Whitelaw’s attack.

‘FBI Director Wilbur Brown’s recent comments on former secretary of state, Caroline Mann, and her emails, apparently before seeing any evidence, and against the advice of the Justice Department, according to press reports, and even, some have suggested, in violation of the Hatch Act, make it clear that for the good of the FBI and the Justice Department, he should resign immediately.’

Longhurst chipped in for the benefit of viewers who might not be familiar with the finer details of the US Constitution:

‘The Hatch Act limits the political activity of federal employees, for instance barring them from seeking public office or influence to interfere with or affect the result of an election’.

Congressman Whitelaw was followed almost immediately by Larry Kinder, outgoing Senate minority leader, who also called for Wilbur Brown’s resignation, comparing Brown to the FBI’s notorious founder, J. Edgar Hoover.

Like Whitelaw, Kinder didn’t mince his words. ‘The director of the FBI’s actions in recent months,’ he thundered, ‘have demonstrated a disturbing double standard for the treatment of sensitive information, with what appears to be a clear intent to aid one political party over another.’

Finally, Eric Longhurst took back the mike.

‘The FBI’s action in reopening the email enquiry,’ he said, ‘less than two weeks before the presidential election, has stunned former and current law enforcement officials and rocked Caroline Mann’s campaign, which appeared to be coasting to victory. The Bureau’s director, Wilbur Brown, said in a memo to FBI employees he felt obligated to update lawmakers after testifying under oath – back in July – that the investigation into Mann’s private email server was complete. And he feared that word of the newly discovered emails – found in the course of a separate investigation into former US congressman Julius Lomax – would leak to the media and suggest a cover-up.’

Wilbur Brown turned the TV off. He had known, when he had authorized that second investigation, that he might be stirring up a hornet’s nest. But he hadn’t realized just how much damage this might do to Caroline Mann’s prospects of winning the election.

What an amazing coincidence, he thought, that the story about that sex-obsessed idiot from Boston had appeared in Mickey Selkirk’s Daily Clarion precisely when it did. The timing, from the Craig campaign’s point of view, could not have been more perfect.

His mobile pinged. A Google Alert had just come in. ‘Craig jumps into lead in two out of three national polls.’

And then a text message came on his personal number, caller ID withheld: ‘Hope you can live with yourself after what you’ve done, you ***t!’

As Wilbur Brown stood there, his secretary came in with an envelope.

‘Here’s an eyes-only for you, Director,’ she said. ‘Couriered overnight from London.’

Brown opened the envelope. It was a handwritten note from Warren Fletcher, US ambassador to the Court of St James’s:

As Wilbur Brown returned to his desk, a wave of relief came over him. Over the months, that Golden Shower rumour had proved remarkably persistent. He had faced accusations, sometimes not too polite, from Caroline Mann’s people that he was sitting on the file for reasons of his own. Only that morning congressman Terry Harman had called on him to set up an enquiry.

‘If the FBI can reopen the file on Caroline Mann,’ Harman had challenged, ‘why can’t they investigate the possibly illegal behaviour of Ronald Craig? Who knows whether minors were involved in the Golden Shower scene?’

Wilbur Brown passed a hand over his forehead. Slime and innuendo. That’s what politics boiled down to nowadays. Was there any depth they wouldn’t sink to?

What a narrow escape, he thought. If Warren Fletcher’s note had not arrived in the nick of time, he might have succumbed to the mounting pressure and announced the Golden Shower enquiry that people like Terry Harman were calling for. And that might have allowed Caroline Mann to pull ahead again in the tightly fought race.

In the end, Wilbur Brown decided to do nothing. In view of Warren Fletcher’s letter, he felt confident that announcing an enquiry into the Golden Shower episode would be totally unjustified. But he also he saw no need to announce that the Republican presidential candidate was not involved in the shenanigans in the Hotel Kempinski. Caroline Mann was cross enough with him as it was. If he came out now with a statement exonerating Craig, that would only add fuel to the flames.

He folded Warren Fletcher’s letter and put it in his wallet.