There were four files:
Money.doc
Wreckingcrew.pdf
Myteam.doc
Openmefirst.mpg
Eric tapped the last file and the operating system automatically selected the correct application to open the video player. There before him, reflected in a mirror, was Charles Rathbone sitting at a desk in what looked like a budget motel room. He smiled, waved, cleared his throat, and began to speak.
“Hello, Eric. Please excuse the cloak and dagger theatrics with the birthday card, but I can assure you it was most necessary. They would do anything to stop you, or anyone else from getting this message.
If you are watching this, then I am dead — hopefully without pain and by my own hand. For this act, I can only apologise.
Eric, you are my closest friend and confidante, the person I trust the most, but I could not tell you what I was working on, or what was happening to me. It was simply too dangerous to the two things that I hold most dear, you and True Democracy. I sincerely wish that it could be another way. I have thought long and hard about what I am about to do, but there is no other option. I have read that suicide is believed to be the ultimate act of cowardice, don’t believe it Eric; this is the hardest thing I can imagine anyone having to do. There is so much to live for and so much that I still want to achieve. I almost died once before, with your help and friendship I learned to walk tall again. Now it is all going to be wasted — I am so sorry, but I have no other choice.
It is my idea you see, the idea of True Democracy. The simple little idea that means the public can finally have real influence over how the country is run. That idea is such a threat to some people that it just had to be stopped. They had hoped that it would simply lose momentum, and for a while, it seemed that it would. Then they became impatient and tried to kill it with that game show, but they miscalculated and suddenly it was too late. So, they had a problem. How do you stop an idea? How do you make people un-think a thought? Then they realized that dear old Charles Rathbone was the public face of True Democracy. To stop the idea, they had to stop me.
Of course, killing me would create a martyr. No… that would not work. That would only make things worse for them. Then they struck on what seemed like a perfect plan — discredit the man and you discredit the idea. Comprehensively discredit the man; convincingly convict him of something so heinous, so monstrously shocking, that nobody in their right mind would want to be associated with his politics ever again. Do that and the idea is dead in the water — cold, lifeless and sunk to the bottom, never to be discussed again. They planned a killer headline — ‘Charles Rathbone, pedophile, and child molester!’”
Stone found that he had involuntarily jerked back in his seat with the shock of what he was hearing. He tapped pause on the video player, so he could take a moment to splash his face with cold water from the faucet in the kitchen. Then he paced up and down the hallway for a full minute in an attempt to cool his rising anger. He splashed his face a second time, dried off with a hand towel, grabbed a bottle of orange juice from the fridge, and returned to his seat. To help clear the tension that he was feeling, Stone shut his eyes, took a deep breath through his nose, and slowly breathed out through his mouth. He repeated the exercise three more times, until he felt that he had his emotions under some semblance of control. He leaned forward and tapped the screen to resume the video playback.
“Dearest Eric,” Charles continued, “you must believe me when I say, that these allegations are a hideous lie, totally untrue, just fabricated propaganda based on planted evidence. I don’t know how they did it; I just know that they did.
A dear friend in the police put herself in terrible danger, both professionally and physically, to warn me of what was about to happen. She told me that the British police had been given a copy of a report, recently filed by the Afghan police. The report stated that three unnamed Afghani children, two boys and one girl, were claiming to have been raped by one Charles Rathbone while he was serving in Afghanistan with the Royal Engineers. There was no explanation as to why the accusers had waited so long before making a complaint, or how they had originally named their attacker. The report did claim that an investigator had positively confirmed the identity of the alleged rapist, with the use of a photograph.
The report made difficult reading, particularly the graphic details of what was allegedly done to these poor children. Worse still was the casual footnote stating that the accusers were no longer available for interview, as they had been killed along with eleven others when their school bus was blown apart by an IED landmine. Obviously, I found this dreadful accusation to be deeply upsetting, but there was more to follow.
The next day, investigators at the Pedophile Unit of the Metropolitan police, received evidence from the FBI showing that a credit card in my name had been used to make purchases from several online purveyors of child pornography. Although I have never owned or applied for such a card, or accessed such web sites, the next day a payment to that credit card company was traced to my checking account. Faced with such compelling evidence, the police applied for a warrant to search my house and computers.
Yesterday I received another call from my friend. She told me that initial scans of my computer and tablet had revealed substantial quantities of child pornography, along with evidence of regular visits to web sites known to sell such dreadful materials. My friend was kind enough to reiterate her continued confidence in my innocence, stating that even the investigating officers had thought the trail of evidence to be too convenient and easy to follow. Nevertheless, such evidence could not be ignored; steps must be taken. The police were planning to make an arrest within days, to be followed with an immediate press conference. At that point, all hope of protecting True Democracy would be gone forever. I knew then that the only way to save True Democracy was to sacrifice myself.
Of course, there is a risk that they will still try to publish these allegations, but I believe that risk is acceptably small. For their plan to work, Charles Rathbone needed to be publicly exposed and humiliated. Any attempt to besmirch my name and reputation posthumously, or attack my successor, would probably have the conspiracy theorists climbing out of the woodwork to join the party.
I have nominated Sally Field to take over as leader of True Democracy. Sally was my most vocal supporter. She is an intelligent and charismatic girl, if she decides to contest the election, I am confident that she will win her seat.
Now that I am dead and True Democracy is in safe hands, I can reveal the truth. In doing so, I must ask you to put yourself and others in grave danger. It is my hope that you will see the need to eradicate the evil menace that has directly caused my death and that of many others. Please consider what I have to tell you very carefully and with an open mind, before you decide how to act. Eric, I have left you a considerable amount of money to fund this endeavor, but should you decide against it, please, please, take the money and run as far away as you can.”