Body Politic Read Online Free PDF Page A

counts.
    Hamilton, the public order guardian, shot to his feet, the iron line of his jaw visible even under his beard’s thick grey curls. “I object.”
    I can’t say I was surprised.
    â€œThis matter comes under the jurisdiction of my directorate. Citizen Dalrymple . . .” He paused, then repeated my name like it tasted putrid. “Citizen Dalrymple chose to withdraw his services from the Council at a critical time – while, I might add, the Ear, Nose and Throat Man was still at large. If it is indeed the case that the killer has struck again, this citizen can be seen as responsible. He never completed his investigation.” The city’s chief policeman looked round his colleagues. “Besides, he has been working as a labourer in the city’s parks since then. What possible use can he—”
    â€œOne moment, guardian.” The speaker interrupted him without raising her eyes from her papers. “There is to be no discussion about this. The senior guardian has sent a written directive.” She turned to him. “You will provide citizen Dalrymple with everything he needs to track down the murderer.” She looked around. “That applies to all directorates.” Her eyes rested on me. “I’m afraid you may find the city’s resources in the fields of forensics and criminology rather meagre. There has been little call for such expertise recently.”
    The public order guardian sat down noisily.
    â€œWe are dealing,” continued the speaker, “with the killing of a city auxiliary. This raises several concerns. The most significant of these would appear to be public awareness and the potential effect on the tourist industry. Your thoughts, please.”
    The information guardian got up, her flaming hair standing out above the sombre grey of her tweed jacket. She proposed keeping all news of the murder out of the Edinburgh Guardian and of Radio Free City. She was worried that such a major crime could lead to a loss of confidence in the Council. The public order guardian nodded vigorously in agreement. I might have been more convinced by the argument if the information guardian hadn’t once been an award-winning investigative journalist on the Scotsman . People who change that much always make me suspicious. Anyway, I’d heard all this in the past. One of the most disturbing things about the Council is its obsession with secrecy. If the aim is to educate citizens to think for themselves, it seems to me that they should be trusted not to revolt as soon as things go wrong. Then again, who am I to talk? I’ve kept my mouth shut about what happened to the ENT Man and that makes me as egocentric as a pre-Enlightenment politician. Christ, how low have I sunk?
    Whenever I give myself a bad time, it isn’t long before I start looking for an alternative target. There was a whole shooting gallery of them in front of me.
    â€œExcuse me,” I said politely. Hamilton was the only one who smelled a rat; his glare was steelier than the toecaps of a guardsman’s boots. “I suppose it’s theoretically possible that my fellow citizens won’t find out about the murder, but in my experience word always gets out, especially when measures are taken to keep things secret.” I gave the public order guardian a cheerful smile, which deflected his hard man’s stare for a second. “I mean, I heard about this supposedly confidential crime not long after I got your message.”
    That provoked more gasps than I’d expected, but Hamilton’s reaction was about what I guessed it would be.
    â€œI want the name of the citizen who informed you immediately,” he demanded, his fists clenched.
    I shook my head slowly. “No chance.” I might have known my former chief would assume it was an ordinary citizen who had told me rather than one of his own auxiliaries.
    â€œThat will do,” said the speaker sternly.