Sons of Fortune

“I know what I’m going to call him,” said Fletcher as the nurse returned to the room.

“I think you should try and get some sleep, Mrs. Davenport, it’s been an exhausting time for you.”

“I agree,” said Fletcher. He removed several pillows from behind his wife’s head, as she lowered herself slowly down the bed. Annie smiled and rested her head on the remaining pillow as her husband kissed her. As Fletcher left, the nurse switched off the light.

Fletcher raced back up the stairs and along the corridor to check if his son’s heartbeat was any stronger. He stared through the plate glass window at the monitor, willing it to flicker a little higher, and managed to convince himself that it had. Fletcher kept his nose pressed up against the window. “Keep fighting, Harry,” he said, and then began counting the heartbeats per minute. Suddenly he felt exhausted. “Hang in there, you’re going to make it.”

He took a couple of paces backward and collapsed into a chair on the other side of the corridor. Within minutes, he had fallen into a deep sleep.

Fletcher woke with a start when he felt a hand gently touch his shoulder. His tired eyes blinked open; he had no idea how long he’d been asleep. The first thing he saw was a nurse, her face solemn. Dr. Redpath stood a pace behind her. He didn’t need to be told that Harry Robert Davenport was no longer alive.

“So what’s the problem?” asked Nat as they ran toward the Commons where the vote was being counted.

“We were leading comfortably until a few minutes ago,” said Joe, already out of breath from his trip there and back and unable to keep up with what Nat would have described as a jog. He slowed to a fast walk. “And then suddenly two new ballot boxes appeared, stuffed with votes—and nearly ninety percent of them in favor of Elliot,” he added as they reached the bottom step.

Nat and Tom didn’t wait for Joe as they bounded up the steps and through the swing doors. The first person they saw was Ralph Elliot—a smug look on his face. Nat turned his attention to Tom, who was already being briefed by Sue and Chris. He quickly joined them.

“We were leading by just over four hundred votes,” said Chris, “and we assumed it was all over, when two new boxes appeared out of nowhere.”

“What do you mean, out of nowhere?” asked Tom.

“Well, they were discovered under a table, but hadn’t been included among those that were registered in the original count. In those two boxes,” Chris checked his clipboard, “Elliot polled 319, to Nat’s 48, and 322 to Nat’s 41, which reversed the original outcome and put him in the lead by a handful of votes.”

“Give me a few examples of figures from some of the other boxes,” said Su Ling.

“They were all fairly consistent,” said Chris, returning to his list. “The most extreme was 209 for Nat, against 176 for Elliot. In fact, Elliot only polled higher in one box, 201 to 196.”

“The votes in the last two boxes,” said Su Ling, “are not statistically possible, when you compare them with the other ten that have already been counted. Someone must have literally stuffed those boxes with enough ballot papers to reverse the original decision.”

“But how could they have managed that?” asked Tom.

“It would be easy enough if you could get your hands on any unused ballots,” said Su Ling.

“And that wouldn’t have been too difficult,” said Joe.

“How can you be so sure?” asked Nat.

“Because when I voted in my dorm during the lunch hour, there was only one teller on duty, and she was writing an essay. I could have removed a handful of ballots without her even noticing.”

“But that doesn’t explain the sudden appearance of two missing boxes,” said Tom.

“You don’t need a Ph.D. to wo

rk out that one,” chipped in Chris, “because once the poll has closed, all they had to do was hold back two of the boxes, and then stuff them with ballots.”

“But we have no way of proving that,” said Nat.

“The statistics prove it,” said Su Ling. “They never lie, though I admit we don’t have any first-hand proof.”

“So what are we going to do about it?” asked Joe, as he stared across at Elliot, the same self-satisfied look still in place.

“There’s not much we can do except pass on our observations to Chester Davies. After all, he is the chief elections officer.”

“OK, Joe, why don’t you do that, and we’ll wait to see what he has to say.”

Joe left them to make his submission to the dean of students. They watched as the expression on the elderly academic’s face became grimmer and grimmer. Once Joe had made his point, the dean immediately called for Elliot’s chief of staff, who did nothing more than shrug his shoulders and point out that every ballot was valid.

Nat watched apprehensively as Mr. Davies questioned both men, and saw Joe nod his agreement, before they broke away to join their respective teams.