Saints and Sinners

Chapter Thirty-Six

United Nations HQ

New York

"Everything is agreed then...except for the specific assets you expect Symonds to liquidate to pay his share?" Bellamy Osborne sat back in his chair and looked rather expectantly at the Secretary-General and former President Fletcher, after less than half an hour of genial and respectful negotiation. Montague had only left him a few queries to clear up, and the loans required to pay the British government's share of the two trillion pound fine were confirmed as being in place. Charles Montague had kept all of his solemn promises, including delivering Sebastian Osborne's extensive recommendations for the restructuring of the church and the Order to the table. It was not perfect, and it was subject to some alteration as it passed through parliament, but it was a good enough start, even for Fletcher. "But that is out of the British government's control and in yours...so, that will not delay our business?"

"No, Mr Osborne...the visible assets are all frozen and in our hands in terms of access to bank accounts...it is just a matter of getting the paperwork out of Mr Symonds and tracking down all of his hidden funds, before we legally take control of the businesses and assets that will make up the majority of his trillion pounds." Delacorte said with a smile, visibly charmed by the young man, who had made quite an impression on her from the moment he kissed her hand. "Do you have any further information that might help us with that process, Sir?"

"Not really, Madame...I am afraid that relations between Connor and Nick Symonds and Buckingham Palace are rather strained at present...although my father did hear something that you might find interesting...although it is little more than a rumour?"

"Any help will be much appreciated, Mr Osborne?" Delacorte said, whilst Fletcher raised an expectant eyebrow.

"Well...my father obviously still has friends within the church...many good people who are considerably more loyal to him than they are to Archbishop Carter...who is closer to Mr Connor Symonds and his associates than he ought to be," Bellamy sighed, finding it harder than he expected to stir the pot some more. Like all members of the Reformist elite, he had been trained to keep their problems in house. There had always been arguments, and rivalries between ministers, and between the church and the state, but those disagreements were never made public. For four successful decades, the Christian Democratic Alliance had presented a united front to the British people, putting an end to the constant bickering that had blighted the political landscape since Margaret Thatcher was Prime Minister, and Bellamy had been raised to keep his cards close to his chest. But things had to change. International scrutiny would only ease off if the United Nations got the full picture. "And he has been told...by a source we implicitly trust...that ownership of the new Boston hospital and convent has been transferred to the Church of Christ the Reformer, via the Bishop of Boston?"

In hindsight, Fletcher was not surprised by the news. Montague had hesitated to seize the assets left by Drew Symonds, and that had given Connor Symonds ample opportunity to hide some of his interests and get rid of others. And that was deliberate. Montague was a clever man, a real player, and he was not going to just rollover to external pressure and risk his own position at home. His plan was undoubtedly to use the period of national government to push the far right back into their box and prepare the ground for a more moderate administration to lead the renaissance into a second phase. And he could not achieve that if he threw Connor Symonds to the wolves.

"Can't we go after the Bishop?" Grace asked later on, joining her uncle on the balcony of his hotel suite. He was in shirtsleeves, looking out over the Hudson, and smoking a cigarette in the sunshine. Grace, in a floral print summer dress, with sunglasses resting on the top of her head, was pouring coffee. "He is essentially a slave owner?"