The Ethical Banker
his plan. Before he retired to bed, his plan was to find out who DSK's cell mate was, what he was in for, how many years he was serving, and then use that information to hook and entertain his viewers.
With his background as a tabloid reporter before moving into Television, he had learned how to brew a storm in a tea cup, to make even the most boring news into a top story. He was a master of exaggeration and sensationalism and believed that news reporting was like show business- pure entertainment.
No wonder his live report at Belmarsh had pulled in seven million and his followers on twitter had trebled overnight.
A plan immediately materialised: Of course he wasn't going to smuggle a TV crew into Belmarsh for a good report as the kid was suggesting.
But he could use one his contacts to find him a former prisoner from Belmarsh and who had lived on the same block that DSK was on. He could be paid to appear on live TV and explain the conditions at Belmarsh. He wanted a former prisoner that was of the lowest credibility: bad haircut or skinhead, fake gold teeth, ear rings, prison tattoos and bad grammar. Such a prisoner appearing on TV to discuss the rape allegations against DSK would be pure drama. He gave the specifics to his contact and at 2 pm as he was having lunch, his prayer was answered. His contact called to say he was on the train with the former prisoner and would be at the Studio in an hour.
When the prisoner arrived, J.W. Harold knew this was exactly the kind of guy he wanted. Just his appearance: crumpled shirt, tattoos all over his arms and neck, ear rings, bad teeth, weird goatee, big rings on his fingers would make a good interview. The TV crew gave him a twenty minute briefing, going through the questions, and also reminding him that he was not allowed to swear on television or use any kind of street language or prison slang. His pay check was signed and he was given a questionnaire to fill. Harold watched him closely as he put pen to paper, wondering if the jailbird could actually write!
At 4 pm, the cameras went live and the prisoner was a bit startled by the bright lights but later he relaxed. He was seated on a brown leather sofa and sipping on a glass of water.
Harold started by welcoming him to the studios and thanking him for his time then asking him about the conditions in Belmarsh.
He then showed him a newspaper with a picture of Donald Solomon Kenyon in handcuffs and told him he was in Belmarsh at the same block where he had been.
The former jail bird admitted he had never ever heard of Donald Solomon Kenyon until “this morning” when he had read about him in The Moonlight.
He further went on to claim that he sympathised with DSK because he understood how tough the conditions were at Belmarsh.
Asked if there were a lot of rapists on that block, he hesitated then got defensive.
“I wasn't in for rape. I was in for benefit fraud but all that is behind me. I am now a changed man. But yes there's lots of rapists, paedophiles, drug traffickers, you name it. I mean, at a place like Belmarsh, everyone is there for a reason and it's the last place you are going to find an angel, if you are looking for one.”
That drew laughter in the studio and Harold started to like the former jailbird.
He then asked him if he thought Mr Donald Solomon Kenyon, the banker used to a very good life would cope.
“No way,” he said shaking his head. “ The place is rough. When I was there, it took a toll on my health, but I had to fight to the end and serve my sentence. The advantage I had was that I had grown up on the rough streets of the east end and was so streetwise. That helped me to survive. But this rich and famous banker, no chance. He will break down.”
“But I am assuming there will be a lot of people like the prisoners, prison staff and prison officers to help him through this and give him support. They can't let him break down,” Harold suggested, obviously on a fishing expedition.
The former jailbird shook his head again, “ You don't have a clue how stuff works at Belmarsh. It's every man for himself and God for us all. And you think the prisoners there will give their to support DSK? They have enough trouble on their own as it is. And you even mentioned prison officers offering support? You got to be kidding me. Those officers are there to do their job, which is basically to lock away the bad guys and make sure no one breaks out of the prison. Not that anyone can break out of Belmarsh anyway.”
Harold fished again, “ But surely he could get some favourable treatment. This is a guy who has been holding a very big and important position in British banking.”
“I can assure you that you could ask all the jailbirds in Belmarsh and probably most have never heard of DSK before this scandal. And for preferential treatment, he can forget it. I can assure you there's no such thing at Belmarsh. The best he can hope for is being let to watch colour television and a newspaper every morning. He cannot influence stuff in there. He only will get preferential treatment when he is on the outside where he can throw his millions around and get whatever he wants. But even his millions couldn't shield him from the long arm of the law.”
Harold was impressed and decided looks can be deceptive. He had thought the guy was a dumb crack head when he had set his eyes on him but actually had made a respectable interview. He glanced at the clock and decided to wrap up the interview.
“So, you think he will learn anything from his time at Belmarsh?” Harold fired off the last question.
“I am thinking this is a very humbling experience for him. Obviously he has already learned a lot. I am not saying he raped, but if he is found guilty of rape, he will learn to steer clear of women. Not that there will be women on his prison block anyway.” Laughter....and a brief pause. Then.. “On the other hand, if he is found not guilty, he will learn to be very afraid of women. The biggest lesson he is going to learn is that no matter how rich or powerful you are, it takes just one woman to bring you down.”
Harold smiled, then concluded the interview .“Thank you Mr Graham for joining us in the studios today. It was a pleasure having you here.” And with that, the TV channel switched to another reporter camped at the gates of Belmarsh.
Harold went to have a coffee and the Political editor met him and congratulated him on the interview. His BlackBerry was buzzing with emails, texts and tweets.
“Finally, they are beginning to see my potential,” he thought.
Meanwhile, Neil Edwards was working non-stop to get DSK out of Belmarsh and trying to do some damage control in the background. He had even managed to convince DSK's wife that all this was a calculated political witch hunt and that justice would prevail and DSK would come home soon. He also told DSK's wife to switch off television at home and not to bring any newspapers as they could emotionally hurt the children.
He had a million pounds ready and he was planning to deposit it as bail the next day.
He was exhausted and had had a rough day. He decided to go home early, switch off, get enough sleep and wake up ready to fight.
He left his car in the basement garage and decided to take a taxi home. He was so exhausted and preoccupied to drive.
J.W. Harold decided to take the rest of his work home on his laptop and left the office at 6pm. He walked the upper length of borough street and stopped to look at the building housing the FT headquarters. “FINANCIAL TIMES”, the elegant sign read. He had never forgiven them...the way they had treated him so nice at the job interview four years ago, even called him for a second interview and a coffee with the chief editor, almost insinuating that the job was his for the taking only to send him a “with regrets” letter claiming that his background( he had been with a tabloid at the time) did not tally with the kind of news gathering and news reporting standards at The Financial Times.
He crossed the street and went to London bridge station. As he waited for his train on the platform, three young women approached him.
“Are you the TV guy?” One of them asked.
“Yes, I am the TV guy,” he responded.
“Could you please sign an autograph for me?” she requested.
He pulled out a pe
n from his jacket and as he signed for her, the other women also brought out notebooks for him to sign which he did.
Luckily, his train arrived and he managed to get away from autograph hunters.
Wednesday morning started in chaotic fashion. Neil Edwards was at Belmarsh by 7 am and would be at the High Court by 9am. But what he was seeing in the tabloids was pure poison. He knew how such material could prejudice judges and the jury. Sensational stories in tabloids were a lawyer's nightmare, that is if your client was the defendant. They termed it as “trial by media.”
J.W. Harold awoke thirty minutes late. The first thing he reached for was his BlackBerry on the bedside table and it's red light was flashing.
He went straight to his email and opened the one from his researcher first.
“The rascals at “The Moonlight” have outfoxed us again! They've got this girl who claims DSK sexually assaulted her five years ago. Wherever they got this girl from, heaven knows. But this girl is going to add momentum and excitement to the whole scandal. And behold, DSK has admitted having sex with the hotel maid but insists the girl consented.”
“Bloody hell!” Harold swore loudly. He got out of bed and switched on his laptop. He fired up internet explorer and went online. It was all there!
He went to The moonlight online, and all the details were there. The girl had been an intern at Global