A Twist in the Tale

I waited with nearly as much anxiety as Menzies must have done while I listened to others giving their opinion as the minutes ticked by in that little room. Then, four hours later, a note was sent up to the judge.

He immediately asked the jury to return to their places while the press flooded back into the courtroom, making it look like the House of Commons on Budget Day. The clerk dutifully handed up the note to Mr. Justice Buchanan. He opened it and discovered what only twelve other people in the courtroom could have known.

He handed it back to the clerk who then read the note to a silent court.

Mr. Justice Buchanan frowned before asking if there were any chance of a unanimous verdict being reached if he allowed more time. Once he had learned that it was proving impossible he reluctantly nodded his agreement to a majority verdict.

The jury disappeared downstairs again to continue their deliberations, and did not return to their places for another three hours.

I could sense the tension in the court as neighbors sought to give opinions to each other in noisy whispers. The clerk called for silence as the judge waited for everyone to settle before he instructed him to proceed.

When the clerk rose, I could hear the person next to me breathing.

“Would the Foreman please stand?”

I rose from my place.

“Have you reached a verdict on which at least ten of you have agreed?”

“We have, sir.”

“Do you find the defendant, Paul Menzies, guilty or not guilty?”

“Guilty,” I replied.

CLEAN SWEEP IGNATIUS

FEW SHOWED MUCH interest when Ignatius Agarbi was appointed as Nigeria’s Minister of Finance. After all, the cynics pointed out, he was the seventeenth person to hold the office in seventeen years.

In Ignatius’ first major policy statement to Parliament he promised to end graft and corruption in public life and warned the electorate that no one holding an official position could feel safe unless he led a blameless life. He ended his maiden speech with the words, “I intend to clear out Nigeria’s Augean stables.”

Such was the impact of the minister’s speech that it failed to get a mention in the Lagos Times. Perhaps the editor considered that, since the paper had covered the speeches of the previous sixteen ministers in extenso, his readers might feel they had heard it all before.

Ignatius, however, was not to be disheartened by the lack of confidence shown in him, and set about his new task with vigor and determination. Within days of his appointment he had caused a minor official at the Ministry of Food to be jailed for falsifying documents relating to the import of grain. The next to feel the bristles of Ignatius’ new broom was a leading Lebanese financier, who was deported without trial for breach of the exchange control regulations. A month later came an event which even Ignatius considered a personal coup: the arrest of the Chief of Police for accepting bribes—a perk the citizens of Lagos had in the past considered went with the job. When four months later the Police Chief was sentenced to eighteen months in jail, the new Finance Minister finally made the front page of the Lagos Times. A leader on the center page dubbed him “Clean Sweep Ignatius,” the new broom every guilty man feared. Ignatius’ reputation as Mr. Clean continued to grow as arrest followed arrest and unfounded rumors began circulating in the capital that even General Otobi, the Head of State, was under investigation by his own Finance Minister.

Ignatius alone now checked, vetted and authorized all foreign contracts worth over one hundred million dollars. And although every decision he made was meticulously scrutinized by his enemies, not a breath of scandal ever became associated with his name.

When Ignatius began his second year of office as Minister of Finance even the cynics began to acknowledge his achievements. It was about this time that General Otobi felt confident enough to call Ignatius in for an unscheduled consultation.

The Head of State welcomed the Minister to Durden Barracks and ushered him to a comfortable chair in his study overlooking the parade ground.

“Ignatius, I have just finished going over the latest budget report and I am alarmed by your conclusion that the Exchequer is still losing millions of dollars each year in bribes paid to go-betweens by foreign companies. But have you any idea into whose pockets this money is falling? That’s what I want to know.”

Ignatius sat bolt upright, his eyes never leaving the Head of State.

“I suspect a great percentage of the money is ending up in private Swiss bank accounts but I am at present unable to prove it.”

“Then I will give you whatever added authority you require to do so,” said General Otobi. “You can use any means you consider necessary to ferret out these villains. Start by investigating every member of my Cabinet, past and present. And show no fear or favor in your endeavors, no matter what their rank or connections.”

“For such a task to have any chance of success I would need a special letter of authority signed by you, General…”

“Then it will be on your desk by six o’clock this evening,” said the Head of State.

“And the rank of Ambassador Plenipotentiary whenever I travel abroad.”

“Granted.”

“Thank you,” said Ignatius, rising from his chair on the assumption that the audience was over.