In High Places

Continuing, he explained. 'The Canadian system is a parliamentary monarchy with a single, unbroken line of authority all the way upward from the ordinary voter, through the Government, to the Crown. Your system is divided authority with separation of powers – the President has some. Congress others.'

'Checks and balances,' the boy said. 'Only sometimes there are so many checks, nothing gets done.'

Bonar Deitz smiled. 'I won't comment on that. We might upset foreign relations.'

They came to the House of Commons lobby. Bonar Deitz opened one of the heavy double doors and led the way on to the floor of the House. They stopped, the deep silence – almost physically felt – enfolding them. Only a few lights were burning and, beyond their range, the soaring galleries and the chamber's outer edges blurred into darkness.

'When the House is sitting it's a good deal livelier,' Deitz said dryly.

Tm glad I saw it this way,' the boy said softly. 'It's… it's sort of hallowed.'

Deitz smiled. 'It has very old traditions.' They moved forward and he explained how the Prime Minister and the Leader,. of the Opposition – himself – faced each other daily across the ' floor of the House. 'You see,' he said, 'we think directness has a lot of advantages. With our kind of government the Executive is accountable to Parliament immediately for everything it does.'

The boy looked curiously at his guide. 'If your party had elected more people, sir, then you'd be Prime Minister instead of leading the Opposition.'

Bonar Deitz nodded. 'Yes, I would.'

With unembarrassed frankness the boy asked, 'Do you think you'll ever make it?'

'Now and then,' Deitz said wryly, 'I get to wondering that myself.'

He had intended to take only a few minutes. But he found himself liking the boy and, by the time they had finished talking, much longer had elapsed. Once again, Deitz thought, he had allowed himself to be sidetracked. It happened frequently. He wondered sometimes if that were the real reason he had not been more successful in politics. Others whom he knew -James Howden was one – saw a straight, undeviating line and followed it. Deitz never did, politically or any other way.

He was an hour later than he had expected in reaching the Rideau Club. Hanging up his coat he remembered ruefully that he had promised his wife he would spend most of today at home.

In the lounge upstairs Senator Deveraux, still asleep, was snoring in gentle undulations.

'Senator!' Bonar Deitz said softly. 'Senator!' The old man opened his eyes, taking a moment to focus them. 'Dear me.' He eased upright from the depths of the big chair. 'I appear to have dropped off.'

'I expect you thought you were in the Senate,' Bonar Deitz said. He lowered himself angularly, like a collapsible spindle, into an adjoining seat.

Senator Deveraux chuckled. 'H that were so, you would have wakened me less easily.' Shifting around, he reached into a pocket and produced the newspaper item he had torn out earlier. 'Read this, my boy.'

Deitz adjusted his rimless glasses and read carefully. While he did so the Senator trimmed a new cigar and lit it.

Looking up Deitz said mildly, "'I have two questions. Senator.'

'Ask away, my boy.'

'My first question is – since I am now sixty-two years old, do you conceivably think you could stop calling me "my boy"?'

The Senator chuckled. 'That's half the trouble with you young fellows – you want to become old men before your time. Don't worry; age will creep up soon enough. Now, my boy, what's your second question?'

Bonar Deitz sighed. He knew better than to argue with the older man, who he suspected was baiting him. Instead he lighted a cigarette and asked, 'What about this chap in Vancouver – Henri Duval? Is there something you know?'

Senator Deveraux waved his cigar in a gesture of dismissal. 'I know nothing whatever. Except that the moment I learned of this unfortunate young man and his unheeded plea to enter our country, I said to myself: here is an opportunity for some ordure stirring which will embarrass our opponents.'

Several others had come into the room, greeting Deitz and Senator Deveraux as they passed. The Senator lowered his voice conspiratorially. 'You've heard what occurred at Government House last night? A fight! – among members of the Cabinet.'

Bonar Deitz nodded.

'Under the very nose, mind you, of the duly appointed representative of our gracious sovereign.'

'These things happen,' Deitz said. 'I remember once when our people had a shindig…'

'Please!' Senator Deveraux seemed shocked. 'You're committing a cardinal political sin, my boy. You're trying to be fair.'

'Look,' Bonar Deitz said, 'I promised my wife…'

'I'll be brief.' Manoeuvring the cigar to the left side of his mouth the Senator brought his hands together, checking off points upon his pudgy fingers. 'Point one: we know that our opponents have dissension in their midst, as witness the disgraceful occurrence of last night. Point two: from what my informants tell me, the spark which touched off the explosion concerned immigration and Harvey Warrender – that egghead with the addled yolk. Are you with me so far?'

Bonar Deitz nodded. 'I'm listening.'

'Very well. Point three: in the matter of immigration, the individual cases which have come to public attention lately -what we might call the sentimental cases have been handled with appalling disregard… appalling from our opponents' point of view, of course, not ours… appalling disregard of practical politics and the impact of these cases upon the public conscience. Do you agree?'

Again a nod. 'I agree.'

'Splendid!' Senator Deveraux beamed. 'Now we come to point four. It seems equally likely that our inhabile Minister of Immigration will deal with this unfortunate young man, Duval, with the same blundering ineptness as the rest. At any rate, we hope so.'

Bonar Deitz smiled.

'Therefore' – the Senator's voice was still lowered – 'therefore, I say, let us – the Opposition party – espouse this young man's cause. Let us turn this thing into a public issue, striking a blow against the unyielding Howden government. Let us…'

'I get the point,' Bonar Deitz said. 'Let's pick up a few votes too. It's not a bad idea.'

The Leader of the Opposition regarded Senator Deveraux thoughtfully through his glasses. It was true, he told himself, the Senator was becoming senile in some ways, but all the same, when you ignore the tiresome Micawberisms, the old man still possessed a remarkable political astuteness. Aloud Deitz said, 'What I'm more concerned about is this morning's announcement of this meeting in Washington between Howden and the President. They say it's for trade talks but I've a feeling there's something bigger involved. My idea was to demand a fuller explanation of what they plan to discuss.'

'I urge upon you not to do it.' Senator Deveraux shook his head severely. 'It could gain us nothing in public sympathy and you may appear petulant in certain eyes. Why begrudge even Howden the occasional little junket to touch the hem in the White House? It's one of the prerogatives of office. You'll do it yourself someday.'

'If it's really for trade talks,' Bonar Deitz said slowly, 'why at this particular time? There's no urgent issue; nothing new that's in dispute.'

'Exactly!' The Senator's voice held a note of triumph. 'So

what better time – when everything in his own kennel is quiet – for Howden to make himself a headline or two and get photographed in bigger company. No, my boy, you'll do no good attacking there. Besides, if it's trade they're going to talk about, who cares outside a few importers and exporters?'