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Preparation / Ch. 8: Leaks and interviews

BOOK 4: PREPARATION / CH. 8: LEAKS AND INTERVIEWS

9 A.M. MONDAY 27TH NOVEMBER. N.W.N.

Tony, passing the editor's office, saw the door was open. He popped his head in. “Albert, can I have a quiet word?”

“Yes, Tony. Got a new lead?”

“Hmm. Sort of. Not my territory though.”

“Oh?”

“There's going to be an invitation to tender coming from Pete West. For all sorts of reasons, I'm not going to be touching it, but it's solid.”

“Any chance you can name your reasons?”

“Number one is it's not my territory and I don't want to trample toes. Number two is I probably wouldn't do a good job, number three... probably comes down as conflict of interest.”

“Conflict of interest? How?”

“Hmmm... how much can I say? Ok... It would be against everyone's interests if the story were linked in people's minds to the Institute, which my involvement would do. It's not Institute-related, and there'd probably be unpleasant repercussions, say for my Security clearance.”

“You're telling me you know about this somehow, and you know what it's all about?”

“I think I've said too much already, Albert. Except that Eleanor will quite possibly kill you if you let it go.”

“Eleanor?” Albert's mind raced. Eleanor was the royal correspondent. “You couldn't have just put her in contact with your contact, could you?”

“I guess I could have done, but I advised her to talk to Pete instead.”

“This isn't some kiss and tell story is it? We don't touch those, you know.”

“No, Albert. It's exclusive, but there's going to be strings attached.”

“About royalty?”

“I'm not saying any more, sorry.”

“But you could?”

“Not without legal advice.”

“Well, call your fiancée then.”

“I'd be happy to, but I think I'd end up needing to call someone in Internal Security.”

“Just what have you got yourself into now, Tony?”

“I'm just an innocent bystander, honest.”

“So why are you dropping these hints?”

“Loyalty to my employer, sir. I'd hate to see someone else get this.”

“And you'd like your friend to get rich?”

“No. Winning bidder gets to make a charitable donation. My friend isn't even in it for the glory.”

“All right Tony. I'll pay attention.”

----------------------------------------

10.30 A.M.

Eleanor sat at her desk and looked at the note. It wasn't often that she got such a thing. Someone was obviously concerned about security, because it was on paper, hand-delivered by a courier. “Exclusive interview offered, open, online auction (charitable donation) starts 4.30pm Monday. Closes three minutes after final bid. Background piece for a palace announcement, expected this week. Publication timing is restricted by legal reasons. Oversight by Internal Security is required. Contract will be available to bidders from 4pm.”

She decided that it wasn't her call. As she walked to the editor's office she thought about it some more. There had been a few palace announcements in the past few week about the impact, but she presumed that a physical letter wasn't going to be sent about that. The royal family had been quite open about that. So was this something about the prince's love-life? There'd been a lot of speculation, of course. Perhaps he'd decided to start dating the girl? The legal stuff was... peculiar.

“Albert, I've had a paper note delivered.” Eleanor said.

“Curiouser and curiouser. From Pete West?”

“Yes. Offer of an exclusive interview.”

“And just a couple of hours ago young Tony was telling me that you'd kill me if we lost it.”

“Tony Randle? Bob's understudy? What does he know about it?”

“More than he's telling, obviously. Sounds to me like he could be writing it himself, except that he thought it would upset Internal Security. Is that the note?”

“Yes.” She passed it over.

“Not very explicit is it?”

“No.”

“Your guess?”

“My guess, is that someone knows something about the prince's love life, the girl he isn't dating. But I've no idea what all this is about the timing restrictions.”

“And the 'Oversight by Internal Security is required.' line is really odd. By who, the palace? Tell me your guesses.”

“OK... let's consider what the rumours say... A red-head in security got quoted as saying that she's not dating him any more than he is dating her, now that's a get-out clause if ever I heard one. Maybe they're not dating, but she's with him a lot anyway, so they can talk, and love has bloomed. But she's in Security. She can't talk about her work, especially not if her work is him. Maybe they're about to announce that they are dating, and we're getting the chance to talk to her or a colleague, with some sort of official wink from the palace, but they want to keep their job and not give away operational secrets. Would that work?”

“It's possible. Tony did give away that you'd be talking to a woman.”

“Assuming that we win it.”

“He also told me that you'd probably kill me if we don't.”

“I'd only consider killing you for not getting a wedding announcement Albert,” Eleanor joked.

“Does he know that?” Albert asked, taking it dead-pan.

“What? It was a joke, Albert! I'm not planning on murdering anyone!”

“But... might he know that for you a wedding announcement would be that significant?”

“I'd have thought all royal correspondents would find a royal wedding that important, Albert.”

“Hmm. So. What's the value of it?”

“I have no idea. Say, two percent of the population will want to see anything about the prince's love life. Five percent might want to see some sort of topical muck-raking. If it's really first news about a wedding, then, I don't know. Thirty, forty percent. It depends on how long we have the exclusive information. I'm worried about the timing restrictions and the Security oversight thing. We could end up getting a wonderful story and have it broadcast to the world by the palace before we get it out.”

“A really wonderful story might hold its value after the announcement though.”

“Yes. All depends on what the palace say.”

“But this is background information. From that I'm guessing that means we'd be getting stuff that the announcement doesn't cover.”

“And therefore remains newsworthy?”

“I think I'll verify that with Mr. West. If you manage to get some more out of Tony, then that'd be grand.”

“I'll give it a try.”

----------------------------------------

“Hi, Tony, Albert tells me that you know all about the note that landed on my desk this morning.”

“Hello, Eleanor. I know more than I can say. Does that help?”

“So... off the record.... what can you tell me?”

“I can tell you that you're going to be seriously miffed if Albert gets outbid.”

“Albert said you said I'd kill him.”

“I was exaggerating. You'd probably just slip laxative in his coffee just before he meets with the directors or something like that.”

“So is this a unique opportunity?”

“I'm not sure if it counts as unique, but it's not the sort of story you get every year.”

“I've been in this job thirty years, Tony. Has it happened in my career?”

“Yes, Eleanor, but I won't tell you how often. We don't want to get accused of insider dealing, do we?”

“I suppose not. But from what you understand, will the story still be newsworthy after the palace announcement?”

“Yes, unless the announcement says more than I heard discussed.”

“Just where were you when you heard this?”

“Look Eleanor, you know I have clearance to be somewhere that Security uses occasionally for different purposes. That doesn't mean I can report on who's there.”

“And the prince was in town on Saturday.”

“Yes, I understand that he was.”

“And you've met his red-head?”

“I'm saying nothing.”

“But if you know all about it, why aren't you writing the article, or being the source?”

“Because there's a better source than me, I don't want laxative in my coffee, and this has nothing to do with the Institute and no one wants it linked to it in people's minds.”

“By no one, who do you mean?”

“The Institute, Security, me, the palace.”

“But you went to the Institute to meet the prince?”

“No. I went to an undisclosed location to meet some friends, some of whom need to keep a low profile, and we were surprised several times in quick succession.”

“Need to keep a low profile? You can't mean royalty, you mean people with the gift?”

“No, Eleanor. People with the gift do the shopping just like everyone else.”

“I'm confused then.”

“How I got involved isn't relevant, or publishable, Eleanor. You'll find out plenty if Albert wins the bid.”

“Albert needs to know what to limit his bids to.”

“I've said too much already, Eleanor. There's going to be accusations of unfair process, insider dealing, breach of trust, all those sorts of things. Sorry.”

“That's all you'll say?”

“Yes.”

“If Albert doesn't win it...”

“Then it's not my fault.”

“I was going to say, would you give me a few more hints?”

“I'd have to discuss that with various people.”

----------------------------------------

3:45PM

“Hi, Pete, Albert Campbell, N.W.N. Interesting note you sent to my royal correspondent this morning.”

“Hello, Albert. Nice to hear from you again.”

“Can you fill me in on a little detail or two?”

“That would very much depend what you want to know.”

“The key one is how much of the interview becomes old news when the announcement is made, and how much publication lead we get.”

“Hmm. Well, my understanding is that the announcement will be fairly brief and to the point, and will contain some things that will not be in the interview, whereas the interview will give a much fuller picture. That fuller picture will not be negated by the announcement. But of course I'm not involved in writing palace speeches.”

“But the interview has palace approval?”

“Yes.”

“And it will be given by someone involved in the announcement?”

“No, a relative.”

“Distant, or someone who knows things?”

“Knows things, has opinions and is prepared to share them.”

“Anyone else asked you these sorts of questions?”

“Not yet, Albert.”

“That's encouraging.”

“Depending where you're looking from.”

“Anything else I should be asking?” it was always worth a try.

“Probably. You understand the bidding process?”

“Bidding continues until we all go quiet for three minutes. Simple enough.”

“That's it.”

“Is it any charity?”

“No. Details are on the contract. I take it you'd like to see a copy?”

“Yes please.”

“O.K. You're added to the list. Let me know if it's not arrived by five past.”

“Many others on the list?”

“I don't expect you'll be the only one bidding, not by a long shot.”

“How many of those invitations went out?”

“Oh, about a hundred.”

Albert whistled. “Postage must have cost something.”

“Not my budget.”

“Can I ask whose?”

“You can ask. I can't answer though, sorry.”

“I see. Well, speak to you later!”

“Speak to you later!”

Disconnecting, he said, “Well, Eleanor, I count that as positive.”

“In that the competition aren't asking questions?”

“Yes. And that Pete thinks the story isn't going to vanish.”

“That's encouraging. Any other leads?”

“The hall of fame for Internal Security notes that an agent received a commendation for creative thinking under pressure and imaginative use of a wig.” Eleanor said.

“So, the red-head could be not a red-head?”

“And possibly isn't even the right woman. Tony did let slip something else: that he'd been meeting with friends, and I quote 'some of who need to keep a low profile.' If the mystery woman were some kind of spy, would that work?”

“And they're waiting for whatever she's involved in to end? It doesn't seem very plausible. If she's undercover, why would she be hob-nobbing with reporters, let alone royalty?” Albert said. “It doesn't make sense.”

“No. It doesn't make sense, does it.”

“So, where does that leave us?”

“Waiting on the contract, hoping our legal guys are happy, and winning the bidding war.”

“Speaking of which, I'll just check my in-box. Oh, lookee here! There it is, safe and sound.”

“Any gotcha's?”

“Not so far. Here, have a copy.”

Eleanor read the legalese. She didn't see anything, except to notice what she'd expected already — Security would be present during the interview, and would hold reporter and editor personally responsible for any breaches of the contract.

It was interesting that Security was involved, quite interesting. She wasn't quite so sure about the next phrase. 'Representatives of Internal Security are available to check final copy and timing of publication is not in breach of any relevant laws, and request that their services be used.'

“Does this mean censorship, Albert?”

“What I hope it means is someone is nervous about us breaking the law, and that if we publish too soon or too much then we do. This reminds me of something... I know, sub-judice laws! Publish too soon, and we get into big trouble. Wait a bit and we've got a great story.”

“I'm going to interview someone involved in a trial?”

“Possibly. A witness?”

“Needing to keep a low profile! Witness protection!”

“And the prince isn't dating her... Well, he couldn't if she's in witness protection. Interesting hypothesis, explains all the details, but we can't run with it. If we go suggesting anything about witness protection then we're in trouble. But I think you can go with a 'not the red-head' piece.”

“It might be a double bluff.”

“It might be, but... it'll give you something to write up while I'm bidding.”

“Yes. Best if I don't see how many week's of my salary this costs us.”

“Go on, get writing!”

“Bye.”

Albert looked at the contract again. It looked water-tight. He'd put the agreed price into an escrow account. The interview would happen, and then either they'd publish or syndicate the story to someone else, in which case the money would go to the charity or if they decided it wasn't worth publishing then most of the money would come back to them.

The specified charity was the royal fund for injured sailors, soldiers, astronauts, and agents. They did a lot of good work, he knew, but it wasn't the charity that he'd expected. It was the sort of charity that people in the civil service or armed forces might think of, but not outside. No wonder they'd mandated Security involvement.

----------------------------------------

4:28PM

Karen and George knocked at Kate and Pete's front door. “Hi, it hasn't started yet has it?” Karen asked.

“Not quite.” Kate answered.

“Thanks for having us over.”

“Oh that's fine. It's quite exciting, really. I've never been involved in this sort of thing before. I know it's early, but I've got some nibbles.”

“Thirty seconds!” Pete called from the living room.

“How long do you think it'll take?”

“I expect that the first few bids will come in quickly, Then it'll probably settle down. Come and see the display set up.”

The screen was full of boxes, five across the screen, and ten down — only half of the invitations had resulted in people asking to bid. Each box had an news organisation's name and a number. Karen recognised most of them, everything from serious broadcasters to kiss-and-tell publications, and a few that normally published things like 'aliens ate my dog'. Karen really hoped it wouldn't be one of those that won.

George asked “So, the highest bid will be highlighted somehow?”

“Yes. Highest bid in yellow, second highest in white, others will be fading towards dark blue based on when they last bid. People who declare themselves out will go black. And the stopwatch in the middle shows how long ago the last bid was.”

“And it's due to start about now.” Kate said.

It did. Initially the yellow blurred from place to place as different opening bids came in. Some of the bids had already been passed by the time they registered.

Karen was surprised at the amounts. “We're already at my book budget for last term!”

“It's the numbers involved.” Pete said “If they can get an extra percentage of the population accessing them, then that's a lot of money, for just one report. And then you can add the advertising revenue. I'd expect to see another couple of zeros on there by the end of the evening.”

“I hope the charity's happy.” George said, seeing the first of Pete's predicted zeros get close.

“I'm sure they will be.” Karen said. “Right now they don't know about it at all.”

“They don't need to, until the paper publishes.” Pete added. “Then I'll attach a note from Security to confirm that the interview wasn't breaking any rules. They get touchy about that sort of thing.”

“I'm sure they do!” Karen said.

“No bids from some of the big names yet.” George said, looking at the screen.

“Not worth their time, as long as the bidding is so low.” Pete said.

“So low?” Karen was surprised.

“They're going to be devoting at least the equivalent of half a working month at this, Karen, when you add all the different production staff into the mix. They're letting the little ones have their fun, that's all. Or maybe they're not all interested. NWN are, I've spoken to their editor in chief.”

“Do you think Tony's been encouraging interest?”

“I'm sure he has, and I'm sure he's been very careful not to say too much, too. Oh look, a bid.”

“Ouch!” Karen said. “I know you said so, Pete, but...”

“You're planning to give them the story of the year, Karen. Remember that. If there's enough interest then it'll pay the salaries of the entire staff for a couple of weeks, if not a month.”

“Then what did Bob's reporting do?”

“Made sure that NWN keeps going for another few years, I expect.”

“Wow.”

“No one's beaten NWN's bid, I see.” Kate said.

“I know. It was about four times the previous bid, after all. The others are talking to their accountants, I expect.”

“I'm not surprised.” Karen said, shaking her head.

The time ticked by. After two minutes, another bid came in, a fraction higher than NWN's bid.

“They're testing NWN.” Pete said. “Was that their upper limit?”

“Oh, a third big bidder!” Kate said.

“Hmm. Not one I'd expected either.” Pete said. “I'd have thought that was a month's revenue for them.”

“A big gamble?” Tony asked.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“More likely their final bid, so they can tell their staff sorry, we tried really hard.”

“NWN bids again.” George said. It was thirty percent more than the previous highest bid. “Ouch! That must hurt the little guys, if that was their highest bid.”

“I didn't know NWN were this big.” Kate said.

“I wonder if Tony said too much.” Karen said.

“I doubt it.” Pete said. “Look — NWN are out-bid again.”

“Hmm, by twenty percent, too.” George observed.

“We're now in about the right region.” Pete said. “NWN have asked me some questions which should convince them to bid a bit higher than the others. Those guys might have deep pockets though.”

“But I thought they were just kiss-and-tell merchants.” Karen said.

“Yes, but that makes them used to paying for stories, and with a wide circulation. They throw money at a real story now and again to keep up appearances.”

“Maybe I shouldn't be watching this.” Karen decided. “It's too much money. Are you really saying that this would have been coming to us if I'd accepted it?”

“They're bidding high because of the charity angle. Plus of course if you'd been making money from this then I'd have taken my cut, and there'd be taxes and legal fees and things to pay too.”

“Whereas you're doing it from generosity now?”

“Not entirely. This is good advertising for my friends' agency, after all. And the palace is funding the external costs; they approve of your choice of charity. That's not for sharing with anyone.”

“I've seen how much they've helped Pris.”

“And this little sum should help them continue with that.”

“NWN are five percent clear again.” Kate noticed.

“Yes. Serious bidding now. No more trying to shock the opponent, just seeing how much deeper their pockets are compared to the other side's.”

“I didn't realise it would be this much!” Karen said.

“Remember, Karen, they're convinced they can make this much and more out of what you're going to tell them, and I might add, once they've interviewed you the contract says that if they're not happy they can withdraw. If they don't think what you tell them is worth it, then they publish nothing and most of the money goes back to them.” Pete said.

“I didn't know about that. So they're not risking the company in the hope that I'm a good enough subject.”

“When you say most, what does that mean?”

“Ten percent, minus bank fees, goes to the charity come what may.”

“OK. So it's not zero-risk bidding, so they'd bid ten times that to stop the other one from winning.” George said.

“No. But take off a zero for how much they're actually gambling with.” Pete said.

“OK. That makes me feel better.” Karen said. It was still a lot of money, of course.

Kate said, “The other guys are being slow to bid. Two minutes gone.”

“Probably getting close to their limit, or reached it already.” Pete said.

“Or they're talking to their owner about going over for one last bid.”

“Ouch.” George said. “That's quite a jump!” They'd just bid twenty five percent above NWN's previous bid.

“I expect that's their final gasp, hoping to shock NWN into backing off,” Pete said.

“NWN must be feeling rich, or angry.” Kate said. “Look at the speed of that response.”

“Hardly past the other's bid, though,” Karen said. “Does that mean something?”

“I think it could mean, 'I know you were bluffing and you owe me a drink for not leaving you with that.' Look at the difference.”

“Yes. I think you're right.” Kate agreed.

“Karen, I think you might be talking to NWN,” George said.

“I can't say I'm disappointed. I much prefer them to the kiss-and-tell mob.”

“So, when are you available for interview?”

“This evening would be OK by me, assuming they can pay up on time,” Karen said. “Tomorrow it'd have to be in between lectures or after nine.”

“Your pair of followers outside as normal?”

“No, just Eliza tonight. Dirk's doing something else.”

“Why are they normally in a pair?” Kate asked. “Eliza just has Bella with her, I thought.”

“Yes. It's because Eliza-the-agent has been shadowing her big brother — she'd only just started in protection when I first met her. Now she's counted as fully qualified.” Karen said.

“Oh. And there I was wondering if it was because your Mum was worried for you, but now you've got George to go with you, you just get the one agent.”

“I wouldn't put it past her,” Karen said, shaking her head, “But I'm fairly sure that it's true.”

“The winner is NWN,” Pete announced.

“So who calls who at this point?”

“I'll call them,” Pete said. “You know where their office is, if they want to interview you there?”

“I know where, but Pris was wondering if the owner's lounge would be possible, Kate?”

“Oooh, more rent for the institute's coffers! Yes, that's quite possible. Let's use it while we can. I'd say it's far better than the paper's offices. We get the recordings too, not them.”

“OK. I'll tell Mr Campbell.” Pete said, selecting the contact.

----------------------------------------

5:30PM

Karen and Eliza were waiting in the owner's lounge when Eleanor arrived.

“Hello, welcome, I presume you're Eleanor, since the computer let you up here.”

“Yes. and what do I call you?”

“Well you can call me Hagar for the moment, but it's not my real name. For your piece, I think I'm 'Anonymous source close to the happy couple', or some-such.”

“So there is a happy couple?”

“Oh yes. But I need to introduce Eliza. As you can guess she's in Security, and I don't think it's much of a secret that she's currently assigned to protect me.”

“To protect you? Who from? Me?”

“Not from you, no. I'm not really sure. It was from Roland Underwood and his cronies, but now I think it's just unspecified other threats.”

“You were at risk from Underwood?”

“Botched kidnapping attempt, my home got broken into, and so on. All orchestrated by him.”

“Oh. But this isn't about you, I've been told.”

“No, it's about my cousin. I've told you that so that you understand that I'm not going to upset Security. They're my friends and they keep me safe.”

“From the sound of it you're not actually with Security yourself.”

“No. I understand that you have a certain level of clearance, is that right?”

“Yes. Urm, I can't remember what the number was though.”

“You're cleared to level four gamma, maam.” Eliza supplied

“Is that very high?”

“Not particularly, no. Bob McDaniel is cleared to three alpha, for instance. Because of who my parents are and where I grew up, I'm cleared to one gamma.”

“So... you're a highly placed source?”

“I'm just a student at the moment. But I'll probably join Security or some other branch of the civil service eventually.”

“Your cousin, she has family in high places too?”

“My cousin's mother is dead, and I'm certain that you've heard of her father. But I won't be mentioning her name.”

“I understand. We were speculating that the restrictions on reporting this might be because she was a witness to something?”

“So you're not convinced by the red-head rumour?”

“Not after I saw a commendation to someone for wearing a wig.”

“Oh well. It was fun while it lasted, wasn't it, Eliza?”

“It was. I got so many people whispering and trying to pretend they weren't pointing me out to people.”

“You were the red-head?” Eleanor asked.

“Yes, maam.”

“And your cousin?”

“My cousin is currently in witness protection. She did get kidnapped, and was held hostage overseas for a month. Her protection officer was due to talk to the royal family and for some reason the replacement officer didn't turn up. So, my cousin got an unexpected trip to the palace. There, she met the prince and they got on very well. When you see the official engagement photos, you might recognise the decor. He proposed in this room.”

“So the announcement later this week will be of an engagement! But what about the witness protection?”

“My cousin will discharge her duty as a witness by making an affidavit and giving evidence under oath before the trial begins. Shortly after, the press will be called to the palace for an announcement. At that conference the prince will tell the world who he's marrying and when, plus the reason that he wasn't able to date her. I assume that my cousin will be beside him by the end of that statement, and that there'll be so many people trying to get photographs that questions won't get much of an answer.”

“And the timing of my article?”

“Your article can be published once she's made her statement. Since you don't know who she is, and we've no intention of leaking that to anyone ahead of the prince's announcement, then either someone from Security will contact you or you can use the prince calling the press for the announcement as an indication that the affidavit and so on is all done.

“My guess is that the call to the press will be going out in the late afternoon or evening, with the announcement taking place mid-morning.”

“So my article will be about the prince's love-life being limited by our laws, that he's expected to announce his fiancée and the wedding date at his announcement?”

“Yes, and other things that I'm planning to tell you about their crazy headlong rush towards matrimony, assuming that you ask me enough questions.”

“Thank you for the hint. I don't suppose you could tell me when they're marrying?”

“Roughly half way between my wedding and the impact.”

“Oh! Congratulations! I had noticed your ring. When's your wedding?”

“December the 23rd.”

“Well, before your wedding would certainly have been shocking, So... roughly seven weeks of engagement? That's fast!”

“You think that's fast?” Karen laughed “You haven't heard the best bit.”

“Urm... Oh, so... how long have they not been going out?”

“Since Thursday.”

“That's when the Prince spoke about her, but when did they meet I mean?”

“Thursday.”

Eleanor dropped her note-taker.

“Shocking, isn't it?” Karen sympathised. “If it's any comfort, they know it's too fast. But, for the good of the country they've decided it's better to rush themselves than to delay their engagement a few more weeks. They didn't think it would be right to have a royal wedding when the people of this city are rebuilding their lives.”

“And their majesties approve?” Eleanor asked.

“Their majesties have seen fit to allow Prince Albert to give my cousin an heirloom ring. I'm afraid that the precise identification of the ring will need to wait until the announcement.”

“So they approve of her.”

“I understand that she made a good impression on their majesties. She's studying history and knows how fragile our society is. She told me that she found herself declaring to her majesty that she'd dedicate her life to uphold the monarchy, and as she said it, she was fully convinced this was God's calling on her life. She'd no idea at the time she'd be doing it from the inside.”

“You say our society is fragile?”

“Yes. It's based on shared values and assumptions, which come through education. Eliza, what did you learn during civics classes?”

“Urm... we visited lots of places, police stations, churches, you name it. Why?”

“I'm demonstrating something to Eleanor. What do you do if you need a flat?”

“Eh? I save up and buy it, don't I?”

“What? You're a civil servant, girl!” Eleanor said, shocked.

“Eliza is typical of my generation. Ask your brother, and if he doesn't know, find someone older, O.K., Eliza? Eleanor, civics week was turned into visit places week. You see? The seeds of a return to chaos.”

“And your cousin has been researching this, to bring it to light?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting, but that doesn't make for a marriage.”

“No. Being in love and certain about each other does in our society. In others it's things like political alliances, or arranged marriages, and perhaps the couple are less convinced that it'll be plain sailing all the way. Prince Albert has been keeping a diary of when he prays for things. He's been praying for his future wife over the past few years.”

“Has he? And what makes him think he's found her?”

“That what he prayed for and when matches what was happening in my cousin's life. For example, in mid-September four years ago, her mother died. At the time he started praying regularly that his future wife would become a Christian if she wasn't already. He felt he should start praying something else at Christmas time. My cousin started going to church at the end of September and committed her life to Christ at a Christmas service. There were lots of other times. It convinced them that they would marry eventually. They certainly weren't opposed to the idea, but seeing as there are only two and a half months before the impact is due, they decided to sacrifice their good sense to the needs of the country.”

“But they could have waited until they knew each other better.”

“Yes. They could have decided on a one month engagement, or even three weeks, I suppose, with things happening behind the scenes. But they're both on the invitation list to my wedding and they said they didn't want to steal my limelight. Everyone else first seems to be their motto.”

“Should I recognise who you are, that you're expecting royalty to your wedding? You do look familiar.”

“I've been assuming that you wouldn't recognise me.”

“You've met the Prince before?”

“Yes, when we were younger.”

“But your cousin hadn't?”

“No. She was raised by her mother, and was never close to her father who was the black sheep of the family, she never looked into his side of her family tree, and thought he was an only child.”

“Oh. I'd had the impression you'd grown up together.”

“We didn't know about each other at all until a few months ago, but we're pretty close now. We've been spending quite a lot of time talking about different things since then.”

“So, how did you get in touch?”

“I'm afraid that's not something I can tell you much about, it was to do with her escape from where she was being held.”

“She escaped? She wasn't rescued by the authorities?”

“The authorities didn't know about her. Her father reported nothing — he was being coerced with her as the lever — and her actual abduction was quite cleverly planned. A convincing lie to get her into their hands. I'm afraid I can't say more as this is still sub-judice. Even publishing about her being held hostage might be too much to publish.”

“But she wasn't hurt by the kidnappers?”

“A few rope burns, a month of imprisonment. Apparently they wanted to keep her father cooperative, so they treated her relatively kindly.”

“But with your own attempted kidnapping you've had quite a lot to talk about?”

“Hmm, interesting that, mostly we've been talking about much more mundane things, like studies, faith, and of course since Prince Albert proposed we've been talking a lot about the dress.”

“'The dress?' Her wedding dress?”

“Our wedding dress, actually. It's an heirloom, we're both entitled to wear it, and why not? It's gorgeous. People have been saying it's fit for a princess for a long time, why shouldn't it make it to a royal wedding?”

“It's very old?”

“I could probably work it out, but over a hundred years, certainly.”

“And it's survived in your family so long! That's amazing!”

“It's been well looked after, and I guess the original designer knew her fabrics well.”

“Who was the last person to wear it? Your mother?”

“No, actually a third cousin of ours. I guess it was her mother before her. Mine didn't want to attract that much attention.”

“Could you describe it to me?”

“Now if I do that too well, you might be able to find out too much about us before time, mightn't you?” Karen said with a smile.

“You mean I could look up the reports of society weddings over the past more than a hundred years for a matching description?” suggested Eleanor. “How could you suggest such a thing? It would take ages.”

“Oh, I don't know. Computer searches can be very quick.”

“So, no description?”

“Hmm... I don't think I'll give much away if I say it's white.”

Eleanor laughed. “Well that certainly cuts it down. Lace?”

“No lace, no ribbons, no pearls.”

“That tells me it's more than a hundred and fifty years old, Hagar.” Eleanor said.

“You don't surprise me.”

“There aren't many dresses that old outside museums. Hagar is a Biblical name, isn't it?” Eleanor asked.

“Yes. A friend of mine's called it, but she's not from round here.”

“Oh. And there I was thinking there might be some connection to Sarah.”

“Abraham's wife lived a lot longer ago than a hundred and fifty years.” Karen laughed.

“I was wondering about another one, more like a hundred and eighty years ago. Her dress seems to match.”

Karen said, “It did not occur to me that my choice of pseudonym was in any way risky,” and glanced at Eliza, who said, “Maam, I think that Security would very much appreciate it if your article did not pre-empt the Prince's announcement of who his bride is, or provide sufficient information for anyone to identify her. By anyone I include even relatives of hers who are not aware of the relationship. It is not the purpose of this interview to enable you to do that. This is why you are interviewing someone using a pseudonym. There are factors that you will only become aware of once you become aware of her identity. We would not, of course, object to a follow up article reacting to the announcement with details of who previously wore the dress, photographs of it being worn, even, and other such details. But we ask that you be very careful in this area. You have been granted the information and access you have on the basis of your security clearance, and it would be most unfortunate if that clearance should be revoked.”

“You're threatening me with loss of clearance unless I agree to censor my article?” Eleanor was shocked.

“No. I'm telling you that you are going to be held responsible for your actions,” Eliza said.

“I'm sorry, Eleanor. It is not just for the sake of the Prince's self-esteem that we are being coy about who his fiancée is. I have sought to give you all the information that I could and preserve that one fact. I obviously got too close, and I'm sorry for that. If you will give your oath not to pass on the information in any way shape or form, then I will tell you explicitly. You writing in the initial piece that my cousin will wear a certain dress will, without doubt make it possible for certain people to identify her, and I would not like her happiest moment to be spoiled by prejudice.”

Eleanor started putting together some things Karen had said earlier. “You said that her father was the black sheep of the family.”

“Yes. I did.”

“I take it that he's the relative you don't want to be known or to know?”

“You have that freedom of thought,” Karen said.

“I do not like censorship,” Eleanor said.

“I understand that. I do not like knowing secrets I cannot tell either. But I know quite a lot. You must be used to protecting your sources.”

“You do not strike me as needing my protection.”

“No. But my cousin does, until the prince's announcement, and the statement I expect she will be making immediately after it.”

“So her father has a certain notoriety, and you don't want her blamed for his actions until she can disown him, is that it?”

“Eleanor, will you swear that you will not put my cousin's identity into the public domain, or is this interview over?”

“What makes you think I'll keep my word?”

“Because I know that your employer and your colleagues are ethical people and you also have a sense of ethics.”

“Not to mention that I don't want to be treated like scum for the rest of my career.”

“That too,” Karen acknowledged.

“I swear I will not identify your cousin until the prince has done it,” Eleanor said.

“Thank-you,” Karen said. She was very tempted to check on her thoughts, but resisted the temptation. “Her biological father, my uncle, is Roland Underwood. He tortured my mother when he was a little boy, he tried to kidnap me. My cousin hardly saw him as she was growing up and had no idea what he was like until my mother told her. She has worn the name Underwood all her life, and it is a proud name with a great history, and the occasional scumbag, the worst of whom is my uncle. She is a committed Christian who has sworn to work ceaselessly for our society that her father sought to destroy.

And when she goes down the aisle she will wear the dress passed down to us from 'princess' Sarah, and worn by Queen Beatrix on her wedding day, but which was made by another dubious character, princess Sarah's mother.”

Eleanor took that in, and eventually said, “If her surname name becomes known before the announcement, then the prince won't be able to make himself heard against all the hatred and name calling, will he?”

“I expect not, no. I'm sure they're planning the announcement very carefully.”

“I see your concern. I'll prepare two articles.”

----------------------------------------

[Hi Eliza, are you free?!]

[Hi Karen, how did it go?]

[I used a pseudonym of Hagar, only thinking of my friend. Unfortunately it made her think of Abraham's wife and then when I talked about the dress, I'm sorry, she thought of 'princess' Sarah. So we switched to plan B. She doesn't want to ruin your day though. She's going to encrypt the second article.]

[Thanks for the update. How did she accept the stuff about the prayer diaries?]

[Accepted it, no real comment, actually. Hinted at the obvious question about your captivity.]

[You know why I wasn't raped, don't you?]

[No. Well, other than Ibrahim threatening you with it. I'd guessed that meant that others weren't allowed to first.]

[Actually... about half way into my time there, he said that I could choose. He said that my usefulness as a hostage only lasted for so long and that if dad disobeyed then he'd rape me and then have me killed like he said at the beginning, but on the other hand he wouldn't be opposed to the idea of a marriage if I decided I could be a nice submissive wife.]

[Oh, what a romantic proposal!]

[So, after that he told his people to look after me well, while I got used to the idea.]

[You poor thing.]

[Oh don't you start, I get enough of that from Albert! If I hadn't been a prisoner, I'd have never met Bella, her dreams wouldn't have been known and I'd hardly have met Albert would I? God used it for good. I almost feel like thanking Ibrahim for his part in introducing me to Albert. Not quite though.]

[I'm glad you're able to look at it that way. How are you going to announce your name?]

[Albert's going to introduce me as his fiancée, just as Eliza, tell the world our wedding date, and say that he's given me Queen Beatrix's ring for reasons that will become apparent later.]

[About an hour later, I expect, once Eleanor's had time to rewrite that bit of her report.] Interrupted Karen.

[Fair enough. And then he's going talk about us not being able to date, because I was in witness protection, but that we plan on making up for lost time. Then there'll be a short picture opportunity of us gazing lovingly into each others' eyes or something equally mushy, and after that I'm going to drop the bombshell about who my dad is.]

[I hope you're not going to say that first. You'll be drowned out by their noisy shock.]

[Oh I know. I'm going to say that I'm going to shock them soon with who my father is, but that I never even got a birthday card from him as I was growing up, and were never close. Then I'll say that I was horrified to find out about the depths of his crime, and will be working to try and undo the damage that he's done to our society. I'll emphasize that I will not be inviting him to my wedding. Then I'll drop the bomb, but it'll hopefully not be too shocking by then.]

[Any news on the affidavit?]

[Tomorrow.]

[Get some sleep, then, it'll be a tough day.]

[I will, once I've talked to Albert.]

----------------------------------------

6.30 A.M. TUESDAY

“Wakey-wakey, rise and shine, Eliza,” Bella said as she knocked on the flat's door.

[Ugh. I know you said early start. I should have asked when exactly.]

[That's OK. I didn't know, either. Is your wrist unit turned off? They said they'd tried to ring you with a wake-up call but couldn't get through.]

[It shouldn't be off, but I took it off. The signal in the bedroom is terrible.]

[OK well, I'll wait, official transport turns up in half an hour.]

[I'm getting dressed. Help yourself to breakfast.]

[Thanks, I've had a bite, but maybe a bit more. Tea?]

[Yes, please!]

8.30AM TUESDAY

“Hello, Eleanor.” Albert said as he arrived at work. “You're here early.”

“Late actually.”

“You're crazy. Don't you know what that's going to do to your health?”

“I just wanted to prove I could still write good copy after being awake twenty four hours. I'm not sure I succeeded. Just in case I keel over, there's two articles. Cunningly labled 'Pre-announcement article' and 'post-announcement article'. Don't get them round the wrong way, please. Article two puts my immortal soul in danger if it gets out too early.”

“What on earth?”

“Some people need to lay very very low indeed, Albert. Otherwise their relatives might find out what they're up to.”

“So, did I mortgage the retirement fund for a good cause?”

“I hope you're joking, but I certainly hope so. It's taken a lot of writing and re-writing.”

“And have you got any copy for today?”

“Of course. On your desk.”

“Headlines?”

“Red-head is a red-herring.”

“You know that for a fact?”

“I met her. Apparently she had a lot of fun earning that commendation.”

“I see. And the real news is?”

“The real news is they first met on Thursday got engaged on Saturday and the wedding is in about six weeks' time.”

“Very funny. So, he's got himself a girlfriend?”

“No, he's got himself a fiancée. On Saturday. I'm too tired to joke.”

“That wasn't a joke?”

“No. That was what they call the impetuosity of youth, or as my informant said, they've decided to sacrifice their good sense for the good of the country.”

“Why not wait until after the impact?”

“That's my third paragraph. I think.”

“And the answer?”

“You can't have a royal wedding when people are trying to rebuild their lives, their homes, and their city. And how long is it going to take? I don't believe you can rebuild a city in a year. Nor even two or three. And long royal engagements just mean extra security hassles. Diverting much-needed resources from where they're needed. They've thought it through carefully and entirely ruthlessly relative to their own needs, even bringing the engagement forwards so that her cousin's wedding won't be quite so spoiled by all the media frenzy they rightly expect around themselves. Though, of course, it still might not have died down by then.”

“And you know the girl?”

“No. I know her name, and I swore that I wouldn't tell anyone. Post-announcement article is encrypted.”

“So what's the passphrase?”

“Security have it, I'm not going to tell you.”

“What?”

“Albert, if what's in that file leaks, then the prince's announcement goes badly wrong and the news topic will not be how did they meet and other questions I'm answering. I swore an oath that I wouldn't tell, and I'm not going to. Me telling you that the article exists is just in case I get killed or something.”

“But Tony knows?”

“Tony knows part of it. I expect he doesn't know all. My source beats him, any day.”

“Highly placed source?”

“That too. I'm sure I've met her somewhere. She's got official connections.”

“You could try talking to Bob. He might know her.”

“Probably. I think I will, just to stop it nagging at me. But if I decide it's relevant then it goes into article two, just so you know.”

----------------------------------------

“Hi, Bob. I wonder if you can help me.”

“I'll try, Eleanor. Congratulations on getting the big scoop! Rumour has it you need some sleep.”

“Rumour is right. Albert's sending me home soon.”

“How can I help?”

“My source used a pseudonym, open about using it. But I recognised her. I'm sure I've met her before at some function or something. She's about twenty, knows you, or at least knows your security clearance, by the sound of it didn't grow up here. And because of her parents and where she grew up she's got a clearance of one-gamma. Ring any bells?”

“I can think of a couple of people it might be.”

“Any of them getting married soon?”

“Well that cuts it down. But why do you want to know?”

“Because it's bugging me. She started off using a pseudonym to protect the identity of one of the subjects of the scoop, but unwittingly gave me one hint too many. So having sworn that I wouldn't tell until they've handled making that side of things public, I've got the whole dope on who I'm reporting about, but my source just smiled when I asked her who she was, and said I could surely work it out.”

Bob laughed “And you want to go to sleep instead of working it out?”

“Yes. I could work it out, she's right. I tried in fact. I thought I could just look up family trees and the like, except that for obvious reasons highly placed officials don't get their family trees put on the net, so I'd have to look through a couple of generations of birth and marriage data to see if what I want to find out is in there or if her parents are so highly placed I can't even find out that way. A need-to-know enquiry takes a week. I need to sleep before then.”

“Oh, Eleanor! I understand your pain, but I don't think I can give you a name. That'd probably be breaching official secrets laws.”

“You're no help!”

“So, you'll just have to see what Society functions you were at in Autumn last year or the year before that, look at the pictures and see if you spot her.”

“You are a help. Regular ball sounds a very likely context. Thank you, Bob. But she was missing from this year's?”

“Recovering from a broken leg, probably been there every other year since she turned fifteen though.”

“Oh, of course! The fund-raising ball for the charity that the bid goes to. Obvious! Thank-you Bob.”

“Sleep well, Eleanor.”

----------------------------------------

The official bullet-proof transport took Eliza and Bella to a military airbase. There, they boarded a small jet plane — it had space for twelve passengers — which took them to the airport which served the nearest outpost of the UN court. As they descended from the plane, two men, UN security officers from their uniforms, came to meet them, at which point Bella's expected role was simply to hand Eliza over into their care, and wait for her return.

“See you soon, Eliza,” Bella said.

“I certainly hope so,” Eliza said, with a grin. [I'll keep you posted.] she added, as Bella stepped off the steps to one side.

“Court rules state that no recording devices are permitted. Please leave your wrist unit with your protection officer.” The UN agent said.

“This is standard procedure?” Bella asked surprised then added, “Stay on the plane steps please, Eliza.” That was a jurisdiction thing.

“Yes, this is standard procedure, you don't need to worry.” The agent said.

“I was not informed of that, and must check.” Bella stated, “I had expected to remain in contact, in case of some emergency.”

“We'll look after your precious client, don't worry.” the agent repeated.

“Oh, I'm not worried.” Bella assured him. “I'm just wondering where the miscommunication has happened.” She contacted H.Q. on her wrist unit. “Hi, Bella here. I'm told that standard procedure is that my client must leave her wrist unit with me.”

“Yes. It is normal procedure. It doesn't apply, special dispensation has been arranged. If they don't accept that, then you are to remain with her, standard rules.”

“Thanks.” Bella said into her unit.

“Well boys, it appears that my information is correct. Special dispensation has been arranged, so that my client may remain in contact at all times.”

“This is most irregular.” the agent said.

“I'm sure it is. Could you please confirm the exception with your headquarters, and any other orders relating to my client, or I'm instructed to remain with my client, in order to ensure that she is properly protected at all times.”

The second man, who'd been quiet until now said “I think she doesn't trust us.”

Eliza noticed that neither had made a move to use their wrist units, and had an uneasy feeling about these two men. In which case, she decided, a strategic withdrawal might help Bella.

[Bella, I'm not sure they're genuine.] she thought and said, “I'm sorry, I've just remembered I left my handkerchief in the plane.” she turned and started quickly up the ladder — there were only eight steps. A couple of steps from the top she heard a decision from one of the men to stun her, and she dived into the cabin. His shot missed, but Bella's didn't. The two fake agents fell, stunned, to the floor. They'd be able to move in a few minutes.

“Stay in the plane, Eliza, please.” Bella said, needlessly, while scanning the airfield for other threats.

“That's going to be interesting to report. In you get, Bella!” the pilot said, who'd witnessed the events and was starting to taxi even before Bella had got the door shut. “Tower, we're leaving. You have a major security breach.”

“What do you mean?” the tower replied “You are not cleared to move anywhere!”

“I have a clear taxiway on my left, it is long enough for an emergency take off, which this is. All inbound traffic, abort abort abort, UN airbase is not secure, I repeat, UN airbase is not secure.”

The tower was not impressed by such an announcement, and demanded an explanation as the pilot did what he'd promised to do. Once airborne the pilot said “Tower, two men dressed as UN agents have just tried to abduct a passenger. Either you have corrupt agents or impostors on-site. I call this a major security breach, we are not staying around to find out if they have any other surprises for us.”

The soldier on duty decided the pilot was right and finally hit the security alert. “Incoming aircraft, we have had a security breach. Contact air traffic control for alternative landing site.”

Meanwhile, Bella had been contacting HQ. “HQ says head home, while they raise a big stink over this.”

“What do you think happened?” Eliza asked.

“My guess, Ibrahim's lawyer discussed interviewing you with his client, which is just about allowed, and somehow those two were going to pervert your statement or make sure you didn't testify.”

“So what happens about my statement?”

“I really don't know. I really hope the agents who should have met you are found tied up somewhere but alive.”

“Otherwise you get accused of stunning UN agents?”

“For instance, yes.”

“But they can't have been, or they wouldn't have been thrown by the wrist unit thing.”

“Or they knew about it, but keeping you incommunicado was part of the plot.”

“And we go through this all again tomorrow or next week?” Eliza asked.

“I certainly hope not.” Bella said, fervently.

----------------------------------------

[Albert, just so you know... it doesn't look like I'll be testifying today. We're on our way home.]

[Some kind of mix-up?]

[We'll find out eventually. But there was a security breach there. The wrong people came to meet me. They didn't know about special arrangements for me, or I'd have blithely walked into another trap. As it was, they acted strangely and we left. All OK, but I might develop a certain paranoia about getting off planes.]

[I'm glad you're OK.]

[{relief}Me too, it was a bit scary.]

[So, what aren't you telling me?] he asked, suspicious, that what she'd said so far didn't sound that scary.

[You mean about how I dived into the plane to avoid getting stunned, Bella stunning them and then us taking off from the taxiway?]

[{shock}Eliza!]

[I didn't want to worry you.]

[Urm. Thanks for your concern... please don't do that.]

[I would have told you later.]

[When?]

[Pass. I'd like to say next time we're together and I can feel out of danger, but... that's too far away. I think we've proved something though.]

[What's that?]

[That he's out to get me anyway.]

[Oh, what a comforting thought.]

[So, I'm safer off with people like Bella around. Oh, she's asking me something. Bye!]

“Sorry, Bella, my thoughts were miles away.” Eliza said.

“Hmm, yes, I expect they were. I said H.Q. would like to know which of the following options you'd like: one, after that fiasco you don't testify at all; two, you tell them that you'll testify before a judge at a home court and they'll have to make do with that, or three, you'll do the whole affidavit and interviews thing, but somewhere genuinely safe. Oh, by the way, they were genuine agents, but hadn't been assigned to escort you. Guess which police force and which senior officer got them seconded to the UN?”

“Not Ibrahim?”

“The very same. They'd intercepted the assigned pair and told them they had new orders.”

“So... not such a big security breach as it might have been.”

“No. But I'm still not recommending we turn around. If the agents there can be confused that easily, then there needs to be some re-training at least. So which option?”

“Hmm. By genuinely safe, what do you mean?”

“I mean somewhere like a bomb-proof interview room in the middle of the military airport we left from, with our guys all around, where there are weapon scanners on the doors and faces I know and trust present, and the only outside people are the judge and lawyers from the international court. And then your affidavit is then digitally sealed and certified by everyone present before being copied electronically to the court.”

“So, no more plane flights?”

“No more plane flights, at least, not for you.” Bella agreed.

“Let's do that one then.”

“I thought you'd like that option.”

“I also think that it should be today, to reduce the chance of Ibrahim whistling up some other plan.”

“I think that might just be possible. After all the judge and lawyers were all ready and waiting for you. I'll suggest it.” Bella said.