“He’s publicly promoted a policy of Arctic wilderness protectionism,” Jameson reminded him.

“He will sign anything I want him to. Now, what about my other license request?”

“My staff has found just a small portion of the Melville Sound area currently under license. Apparently, you’ve beaten most everyone to the mark.”

“Yes, because a large part of the area has been inaccessible. With the warming temperatures and my fleet of icebreakers and barges, I’ll be able to exploit those regions before anyone else can get their foot in the door. With your aid, of course,” he added acidly.

“I’ll be able to assist with your Arctic marine exploration licenses, but a portion of the terrestrial areas will have to be approved by the Indian and Native Affairs Division.”

“Is the head of the division appointed by the Prime Mini ster?”

“Yes, I believe so.”

Goyette laughed again. “Then there will be no problem. How long before I can lock up the marine sites?”

“It is a significant amount of territory to review and approve,” Jameson said with hesitation.

“Don’t you worry, Minister. A fat wire transfer will be headed your way shortly, and another one once the licenses are issued. I never forget to pay those who assist me in my business ventures.”

“Very well. I’ll try to have the documents completed within the next few weeks.”

“That’s my boy. You know where to find me,” Goyette said, then hung up the phone.

In his office in Ottawa, Jameson hung up the phone and looked across his desk. The commissioner of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police turned off a recording device, then hung up the second handset on which he had been listening in.

“My God, he has indicted the Prime Minister as well,” the commissioner muttered, shaking his head.

“Deep pockets easily corrupt,” Jameson said. “You will have my immunity agreement by tomorrow?”

“Yes,” the commissioner replied, visibly shaken. “You agree to turn state’s evidence and there will be no criminal charges filed against you. You will, of course, be expected to resign your post immediately. I’m afraid your career in public service will effectively be over.”

“I can accept that fate,” Jameson replied with a sullen look. “It will be preferable to continuing as an inden tured servant to that greedy swine.”

“Can you live with taking down the Prime Minister as well?”

“If Prime Minister Barrett is in Goyette’s pocket, then he deserves no less.”

The commissioner rose from his chair and packed the listening device and a notepad into an attaché case.

“Don’t look so distraught, Commissioner,” Jameson said, observing his troubled expression. “Once the truth about Goyette is revealed, you’ll be a national hero for putting him away. In fact, you would make a good law-and-order candidate for the Prime Minister’s replacement.”