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Authors: Michael Dibdin

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I was mystified and saddened at first, but I soon convinced myself that it was all for the best. Any attempt to revive old friendships would have been doomed to failure. My circumstances had changed too much. Then I had been a temporary expatriate, a visiting foreigner with no means, no roots, no responsibilities and no future, here today and gone tomorrow. Now I am a man of substance, a permanent resident with long-term plans and investments. I no longer have anything in common with people whose idea of entertainment was an evening of beer, jazz and politics at some doubtful dive which a respectable citizen such as myself would think twice about entering.

 

I have reached the end of my narrative. Before you retire to consider your verdict, however, I should like to comment briefly on the spirit in which the application before this court has been presented. This country has a long and complex relationship with the United Kingdom, and one to which Her Majesty’s accredited representatives have not scrupled to appeal to in the hopes of influencing your judgement. At the risk of wounding your sensibilities, I would like to dispense with the diplomatic rhetoric for a moment. The fact of the matter is, I’m afraid, that my compatriots think of you, on the rare occasions such as this when they bother to think about you at all, as a bunch of gormless wops hanging about some clearing in the jungle waiting for the man from Del Monte to say yes.

I am not suggesting that the request for extradition should be rejected merely because it is delivered in a spirit of neo-colonialist arrogance rather than as a legal petition from one sovereign state to another. On the contrary, I have every confidence that this court will remain entirely unswayed by such extraneous factors. Its verdict will be delivered after duly weighing the facts, the majority of which are inconclusive and the rest in dispute. The case against me rests not on evidence acceptable to a court of law but on gratuitous moral censure. The British authorities argue that I have showed myself to be a ruthless self-seeker who would stop at nothing to better his social and financial status.

I have no quarrel with this assessment. On the contrary, I am justly proud of the energy and determination I displayed in turning my life around, and I strongly deprecate the attempt to make this the grounds for charging me with two murders which I did not commit. This is a cynical manoeuvre unworthy of the ideals to which the present government is supposedly committed, and to which I endeavoured to dedicate myself. In a free democratic society, law and morality can have nothing whatever to do with each other. The selfish instincts we all harbour in our breasts, and without which a market economy would instantly collapse, are of no concern to the law, which is purely conventional and utilitarian in nature, a highway code designed to minimize the possibility of accidents. It does not ask where you are coming from or where you are going, still less the reason for your journey. Such prying would rightly be regarded as unwarranted ideological interference typical of the now-discredited totalitarian regimes of Eastern Europe. As long as you obey the rules of the road, the law has no claim on you.

Now it may be objected that I have
not
obeyed those rules. This is perfectly true, and I have made no attempt to conceal the fact. On the contrary, I have admitted unlawfully disposing of my wife’s body, conspiring to kidnap and inflict grievous bodily harm on Clive Phillips, and lying to the police and the courts about these and other events. I am even prepared to admit that I may be guilty of involuntary manslaughter, since Karen’s death apparently occurred while she was locked in the boot of the BMW rather than immediately following the accidental blow to her head. Had any of these charges appeared on the extradition warrant, I should have had no option but to plead guilty and let the law take its course.

But they do not, for the simple reason that none of them fall within the terms of the relevant treaty between this country and the United Kingdom. Unable to request my extradition for the crimes I have committed, the British authorities have therefore resorted to fabricating charges in a category which
is
covered by the treaty, namely murder. The case they have argued before this court is neither more nor less than a blatant piece of expediency designed to obtain my forcible repatriation at any price. The British have no intention of trying me for murder, as they know perfectly well that they would be unable to obtain a conviction. If they get their hands on me, the spurious murder charges will instantly be dropped and replaced by the non-extraditable charges mentioned above. Such a procedure will naturally make a laughing-stock of these proceedings, this court and the republic it represents. It would be impossible to underestimate the extent to which anyone in Britain will care about that. Having served your purpose in this charade, you will be dismissed to go and play in your third-world sandpit until the next time the big boys need you.

I wish to thank the court for having let me make this lengthy statement, and to take this opportunity of acquiescing in advance with its verdict. The deluded humanist I once was would no doubt have drooled and snivelled after the manner of his kind, but I have grown up since then. I know there is no point in sulking because society is unjust, still less in trying to do anything to change it. There is no such thing as society, only individuals engaged in a constant unremitting struggle for personal advantage. There is no such thing as justice, only winners and losers. I have not deserved to lose, but if I do so, it will be without complaint or regret.

 

10 March

Dear Charles,

Needless to say I understand and share your anger and dismay, but I can assure you that suspicions of slackness this end are completely unjustified. Even H.E., who has taken the dimmest possible view of our hands-on intervention, will confirm that we had been given every reason to suppose that our application would be granted.

As yet I have been unable to ascertain what went wrong. For obvious reasons it would have been injudicious for me to appear in court, but having studied a transcript of the proceedings and assisted at a debriefing of our legal team I can confirm that there were no evidential revelations or technical hitches to justify the judges’ verdict. The accused delivered a rambling apologia for his infamies which made the worst possible impression on the court and everyone concerned assumed that the outcome was a foregone conclusion.

I have contacted the Justice Minister and communicated our displeasure to him in no uncertain terms. He was extremely apologetic, but would say only that the decision had been taken ‘in the interests of national security’. The Generalissimo himself has been uncontactable, and indeed all our normal lines of communication appear to have gone dead. To make matters worse H.E. is gloating no end over our discomfiture. If he tells me one more time that such delicate matters are best left to professional diplomats such as himself I shall scream. Thank goodness the Corporation has agreed to review its decision to broadcast the offending programme. It really would be too bad if we found ourselves thwarted by internal pressure here and were unable to respond in kind in our own backyard.

Yours,

Tim

 

16 March

Dear Charles,

Many thanks for your cheering news. Loyalty has always been our great strength, and I am glad to hear that in this instance it has prevailed over the understandable desire to find a scapegoat. The whole affair is of course now stale news, but just for the record you may nevertheless be interested to learn the reason for our discomfiture, the more so in that it fully validates your spirited defence of the way the operation was handled.

I was beginning to despair of discovering the truth before we shut up shop here, when I was quite suddenly summoned yesterday to meet a senior official at the Air Ministry. My anonymous informant revealed that the subject of our extradition order had been detained by a unit of Air Force Intelligence concerned with internal security. The activities of these units, whose existence is officially denied, was of course one of the more embarrassing episodes in the television documentary we managed to suppress. Unofficially, they are estimated to have been responsible for the disappearance of over 5,000 people since the present regime seized power two years ago. An operation this size is bound to leave a few rough edges, of course, and the Amnesty mob have been circulating the usual horror stories, but all in all the Generals seem to have run a pretty clean campaign.

During the long and discursive statement he made to the court, the accused mentioned in passing his friendship with a certain Carlos Ventura, whom he knew during his earlier stay here. It was now explained to me that this Ventura, a labour lawyer with suspected guerrilla sympathies, had been one of the most dangerous opponents of the present regime, and that all his former friends and contacts are regarded as valid targets for the counter-insurgency operation already referred to. Air Force Intelligence therefore moved to block the extradition in order to allow them to pursue their own investigation, which they are no doubt even now doing with their customary vigour and thoroughness.

Despite the embarrassment which this affair has caused us, I feel that the economic reprisals which HMG is reportedly considering would be both inopportune and undeserved. I recall Bernard once remarking apropos of the Charter 88 people that you couldn’t make a revolution without smashing a few eggheads. If the Generalissimo and his colleagues have taken him at his word, who are we to criticize them for displaying a degree of realism about which we can only joke?

It will take me a few more days to wrap up things this end so as to leave no loose ends, but I hope to be back in London by the end of next week. I am looking forward eagerly to hearing more about the Dublin assignment. It sounds extremely daring, even by the standards of the house! Do please try and soften up the embassy in advance this time, though. A few discreet hints in advance of my arrival about the possibility of alternative postings in say Baghdad or Beirut might not go amiss.

Yours,

Tim

ALSO BY M
ICHAEL
D
IBDIN
“Dibdin has a gift for shocking the unshockable reader.
He writes the unmentionable calmly and with
devastating effect.” —Ruth Rendell
AND THEN YOU DIE
When a Mafia bomb explodes under Detective Aurelio Zen’s car in Sicily, he is presumed dead. But the Italian government nurses him back to health—under the finest and most secretive care—in order to use him as a surprise witness in the trial of a Mafioso who eluded the Italian police. But someone besides his caretakers knows he’s alive—and is trying to change that, leaving a number of mistaken-identity bodies in his wake. Wonderfully smart and entertaining,
And Then You Die
is Dibdin at his best.
Crime Fiction/0-375-71925-3
BLOOD RAIN
Aurelio Zen has just been given the worst assignment he could imagine. He has been sent to hostile territory: Sicily, the ancient, beautiful island where blood has been known to flow like wine and the distinction between the police and the criminals is a fine one. Even worse, he has been sent to spy on the elite anti-Mafia squad. The only thing that makes the job palatable is that his adopted daughter Carla is also in town. But when Carla discovers some information she’d be better off not knowing, the plot thickens, and this amazingly complex and gripping story careens toward its stunning finale.
Crime Fiction/0-375-70830-8
THANKSGIVING
Unhinged by his wife’s unexpected death, Anthony, a middle-aged Seattle journalist, becomes obsessed with her past. He drives through the Nevada desert to locate her ex-husband, looking for some unnameable solace. But what awaits him is a bizarre and violent encounter with the past that entangles Anthony with his half-estranged stepchildren, the police, and his own disquieted mind. The crisp dialogue, shadowy atmosphere, and sharp pacing of a master crime writer work to great effect in this arresting story that straddles the precipice of insanity and the extremes of passion and loss.
Fiction/Literature/0-375-72607-1
DARK SPECTER
In this majestically unnerving novel, Dibdin charts America’s dual epidemic of religious cultism and random violence. Murders are taking place in distant cities with no apparent motive. But a dogged Seattle detective and a bereaved survivor are about to come face-to-face with their perpetrator—a self-styled prophet named Los who has the power to make his followers travel thousands of miles to kill for him. Out of the minutiae of police work and the explosive contents of a psychotic mind, Dibdin creates a tour de force of dread. This should be read with the lights on and the doors firmly bolted.

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