Never Apologise, Never Explain - James Craig [57]
‘Maybe one day.’ Carlyle shrugged.
‘So . . . what can I do for you?’ the Ambassador continued cheerily. ‘Ask and you shall receive, as they say. I’m already in your debt for saving me from your Mayor, if only for a short time.’
Carlyle laughed. ‘So he’s not to your taste either?’
‘No, no.’ Orb wagged an admonishing finger, ‘it’s not that. I’m a diplomat, so taste doesn’t come into it. And, in many ways, Mr Holyrod is a very admirable man. Apart from anything else, he was a fine soldier.’
‘But?’ Carlyle, relaxed about being distracted from what was, at best, a fishing exercise, was curious about the man’s opinion of the Mayor.
‘But he’s playing games with us a little bit.’
‘How so?’
‘The last time I looked,’ the Ambassador said gently, ‘I was Ambassador to the Court of St James’s, not to the Court of St Christian Holyrod. The Mayor wants to use people like us as he tries to develop his own mini-foreign policy on the side, while expanding his own business interests at the same time. He wants to be the next Prime Minister and needs to fill in gaps in his CV. That’s why he’s touting TEMPO.’
‘What is that?’ Carlyle asked.
‘TEMPO is a big arms fair, held in London every other year,’ Orb explained. ‘Chile has a successful military technology industry, so it is an important event for us. But we do not seek publicity.’
‘No?’
‘It should be a discreet place to do business. If Mayor Holyrod goes and turns the event into a political platform, well, that is not good for anyone.’
‘No,’ Carlyle agreed. He had never stopped to consider the problems faced by international arms dealers before, but he could see the Ambassador’s point.
‘Then there’s the whole question of conflict of interest,’ the Ambassador continued. ‘I thought that you British were always quite . . . proper when it came to that kind of thing.’
‘What conflict of interest?’ Carlyle asked, trying not to sound too interested.
‘Christian Holyrod is a non-executive director of the company called Pierrepoint Aerospace.’
Carlyle shrugged, none the wiser.
‘“Aerospace”,’ Orb continued, ‘is a widely-used euphemism for “arms manufacturer” these days, Inspector. Sophisticated arms, true, but they still kill – when they work, that is. Holyrod is busy trying to drum up business for his company – and, no doubt commission for himself – at the same time as he’s supposed to be running this city.’
Carlyle made a face. ‘I thought that you had to give up outside interests like that when you took office?’
‘Apparently not,’ Orb sniffed.
‘And you think that’s wrong?’
‘It’s not my country.’ Orb held up a cautionary hand. ‘And it’s not my business. It would be wrong for me to express a view. Anyway, I have seen a lot worse activities in my time.’
Carlyle smiled. ‘I’m sure you have.’
‘I am just an amused observer.’
Watching a pleasure craft head upriver, Carlyle pondered what the Ambassador had said. ‘Are we talking about corruption here?’ he asked finally.
A gust of wind from the river blew across the terrace, and Orb shivered. ‘That is such a vague term,’ he said. ‘Look at it this way, there is no danger of him going to jail. All I’m saying is that I’ve been around a long time and there are certain ways of doing business. No one likes it when confronted with someone who is becoming too pushy.’
‘Isn’t that just the modern world in microcosm?’ Carlyle said.
‘You are absolutely right,’ Orb laughed. ‘Anyway,’ he took his hands from the rail and spread his arms wide, ‘you didn’t come here to listen to me being undiplomatic, Inspector. I am sure that you will ignore my indiscretion.’
Carlyle nodded. ‘Of course.’
‘The end of my career is looming,’ Orb said solemnly. ‘I don’t have to worry so much about my every utterance, but even so . . .’
‘I have no interest in causing you any embarrassment, sir,’ Carlyle said. ‘After all, that is not what I was seeking out your opinion on.’
‘Good,’ the Ambassador nodded. ‘Thank you. So . . . what is it that you want to talk about?’
‘Well,’ Carlyle looked at