Ed climbed off the bed, and walked across the bedroom to the french windows that led out on to the balcony. He dry-washed his face with his hands, and then let out a long breath of exhaustion. He’d been watching the television news bulletin all night, and he was bushed.

‘Would you tell me something about Shearson Jones?’ he asked Peter.

Peter shrugged. ‘Why not?’

‘Would you tell me what it is that makes it possible for a man to serve as an elected representative of a country he professes to love, and at the same time to make profits on the side? To me, the two sides of a man like that just don’t fit together.’

Peter glanced towards the television. The sound was turned off, but it was easy to make out what was happening. There were lines of people at Los Angeles International Airport with hurriedly-packed suitcases, all trying to leave the country before the looting and the rioting grew any worse. Los Angeles had been through one of the most horrifying nights of all. The Los Angeles Times had called it ‘Walpurgisnacht.’

Peter turned back to Ed. ‘I don’t know why so many people believe that politicians ought to behave like priests. They’re not elected to bring us all to the kingdom of Heaven. They’re elected to look after our interests at city hall, or in the state senate, or Congress, or wherever. So provided they look after our interests properly, what does it matter if they make a little money on the side? As long as they don’t sell out the people who voted for them, who’s to criticise? And besides, it’s a time-honoured American tradition, going back to Thaddeus Stevens and James G. Blaine.’

Ed stared at him. ‘Do you really believe that?’

‘Would I work for Shearson Jones if I didn’t?’

Ed slowly shook his head. ‘You people amaze me.’

‘We’re professionals, working in a professional environment, that’s all,’ said Peter. ‘So long as we keep the balance between public ignorance, political power, and financial leverage, then we’re fine. It’s like one of those diagrams you used to have in your trigonometry books at school. But as soon as someone starts tilting the balance – as soon as we get some amateur interference…’

‘Like me,’ suggested Ed.

‘Well, that’s right, like you – well, then, the whole balloon goes up with a rush; and, boy, didn’t it go up last night.’

‘They said on the news they’re going to mount a Congressional inquiry,’ said Ed.

‘Sure they will. They have to. You don’t expect the nation to tear itself to pieces in the space of one night without someone having to carry the can. And really that’s the reason I’ve come to talk to you.’

‘Oh, yes?’ asked Ed, suspiciously.