With her powerful perfume still lingering in the air and my cheeks still blushing from where she kissed them, Prime Minister’s Justine Moreau’s sudden visit and departure had left it’s mark. The Premier of Louise, Daniel Smythe, was standing in the middle of the cabin living room, livid with what had just happened. He was uncharacteristically tugging on his grey t-shirt and putting his hands in and out of his camouflage pants, like his mind was spinning so hard that he had forgotten his busy mind occupied a physical body.

Daniel had been clear about my next steps: contact Sarah Chen at the Tribune and arrange a meeting to pass along the book of coins. More importantly, I needed to give her a full account of yesterday’s encounter with the Prime Minister.

Not wasting a moment to follow Daniel’s orders, I flipped through the pages of my little black contacts book until I found Sarah’s number. We’d worked together before on various government transparency pieces, and she had a reputation for handling sensitive political stories with the right balance of discretion and tenacity. I dialled her number on the black phone on the counter, watching the spectacle of Daniel trying to evaluate his next move.

“Sarah Chen,” the voice answered on clearly what was a car phone on the other end. The Louise Tribune obviously spared no expense on making sure their star reporter was available at a moment’s notice.

“Sarah, it’s Al. I have something significant for you – can we meet today?”

There was a pause. Sarah knew I didn’t call unless the story was worth her time. “How significant are we talking, Al?”

“Prime Minister-visiting-a-remote-mountain-cabin-to-search-for-missing-Valdorian-items significant.”

Another pause, longer this time. “Where and when?”

“Mountain River Park, by the old bridge. Two o’clock?”

“I’ll be there.”

I hung up the receiver on the phone, and Daniel came over, preoccupied as ever. “I need to check the hidden studio to make sure Justine had indeed taken the wax cylinder and the undeveloped film. I can’t afford to make assumptions at this point.”

“I’m wearing an old jogging suit, I can check for you if you like,” I offered, not sure if I really wanted to venture down that stinky latrine again. Daniel shook his head, indicating he would look after it.

He went over to the pachinko machine in the corner and plugged it into a power outlet. The board lit up, the bright colourful lights behind it blinking in synchronicity and then randomly. It hummed as the fan inside it’s cabinet spun up, and then a noxiously loud tune started to play. Daniel opened a plastic container filled with small metal balls, and poured them into the upper tray next to the dial on the lower right of the machine.

“Have you played pachinko before, Al? Here, give it a try. Twist the dial and it will shoot balls up and over the top of the board, letting them fall down between the pegs,” Daniel explained and demonstrated by shooting a few balls up and watching them fall down between the metal pegs, making loud clattering noises and bouncing around chaotically to the bottom. One of them fell into an opening in the middle of the board, resulting in a smattering of balls falling into the lower tray underneath, kind of like a payout on a slot machine.

I took my place in front of the machine and turned the knob as Daniel showed me. It took some slight adjsutments to get the balls to fall down the middle of the board of pegs and holes, with many of them overshooting and disappearing down a large hole at the bottom. I got the hang of it eventually, resulting in a several wins of more balls to continue playing the game. Eventually, I wasn’t able to win enough balls and the upper tray emptied. “That was fun! But I don’t get why we are doing this now when I have so much to do?”

“Well, ‘Sweet Cheeks’,” Daniel teased, referring to the name Justine gave me, “Politics is more like a game of pachinko than a game of chess. In chess, we follow arbitrary rules and respectfully give each other time to make our next move. Pachinko follows rules we can’t change, namely gravity and momentum. It is chaotic and unpredicatable, with so many unknown variables. However, knowing that we can change the playing field to our advantage.”

Daniel opened the front of the cabinet and found a set of needlenose pliers resting on the top of the cabinet. He slightly bent a number of the pegs on the board and closed the front of it again. Knowing where he was going with this, I removed the metal balls from the catch bin from behind the cabinet and filled up the player’s tray again. Daniel twisted the hand knob to find the sweet spot where almost all the balls were now falling into one of the prize-winning holes. The machine lit up with excitement and the music got louder and more frenetic. The tray of winnings filled up with so many balls it caused the game to jam as they backed up inside the machine.

“Winning in politics is about identifying patterns, making small strategic changes and finding just the right pressure to make things fall your way.”

The grandfather clock chimed the quarter hour. “I had better get going, Daniel,” I said, finding a large envelope. Daniel went to the bookcase and found “The History of Canadian Confederation”, gave it a little shake to verify the jangle of coins concealed in it, and dropped it into the envelope. I sealed it with a lick and headed out the door. Daniel had turned back to the pachinko machine and was adjusting the pins again to their original position, making sure the winning strategy was his alone.

---

At precisely two o’clock, I spotted Sarah’s familiar figure approaching the bridge. She carried her usual leather messenger bag and had that focused expression she wore when chasing a big story. I was already seated on one of the park benches, the leather-bound book of coins in a discrete envelope beside me.

“Al.” She sat down, immediately scanning our surroundings with the practiced eye of an investigative journalist. “You sounded unusually cryptic on the phone.”

“With good reason.” I handed her the envelope containing the hollowed out book with the Valdorian coins. “This contains evidence of a Valdorian operation that goes deeper than anyone realizes. But first, let me tell you about yesterday.”

Sarah opened the envelope carefully, her eyes widening slightly as she examined the book and the coins that spilled out between it’s pages. “These are…”

“Valdorian currency. Part of a larger operation that Daniel’s been investigating. But yesterday, things took an interesting turn.”

I recounted the entire encounter – Justine’s unexpected arrival after her canoe trip, her methodical search of the cabin, the casual conversation that masked her real purpose. Sarah took notes, occasionally asking for clarification about specific details.

“She examined the fireplace thoroughly,” I continued. “Spent considerable time with that grandfather clock, and was particularly interested in Daniel’s antique pachinko machine. All while discussing her controversial India trip and that Shiva costume incident.”

“And Daniel’s response to her questions about the Valdorians?”

“Masterful deflection. He focused on his meeting with JD Ruff about establishing a Treasury Department for Louise, made it clear he wasn’t accepting any bribes. Justine seemed satisfied with his answers, but…”

“But?”

“She knew more than she was letting on. The way she phrased her questions, the specific items she was looking for – this wasn’t a fishing expedition. She had intelligence.”

Sarah studied the coins again. “And Daniel wants this story public?”

“He specifically mentioned publicizing the Prime Minister’s visit. I think he’s ready to move this operation into the open.”

Sarah closed the envelope and looked at me directly. “Al, you realize what you’re handing me here? This could reshape the entire political landscape.”

“That’s exactly what Daniel’s counting on.”

She stood up, securing the envelope in her messenger bag. “I’ll need to verify some of these details independently, but if this checks out…” She paused. “How soon does Daniel want this published?”

“Soon. Like tommorrow’s paper. The Valdorians are getting nervous, and Justine’s visit yesterday proves the federal government is more involved than anyone suspected.”

Sarah nodded grimly. “I’ll start making calls. This story needs to be bulletproof before it goes to print.”

As she walked away, I remained on the bench for a few more minutes, watching the river flow beneath the old bridge. The pieces were all in motion now. Daniel’s elaborate chess game was entering its final phase, and I had just delivered one of the most crucial moves to the press. The real question now was how quickly the other players would realize the game had changed by Daniel’s bending of a few key pegs in the playing field.

Sarah got into her car and picked up the receiver on the car phone installed in it, about to dial a number, but called out, “Al, before I race back to the City, can you tell me anything about the recent acquisitions of an insolvent lumber mill and an abandoned mine by the Provincial government? I thought Premier Smythe was keen on letting business take care of business, and the government to stay out of it’s way?”

I was taken aback by this new information, and the look on my face was enought for Sarah to continue dialling the number. “I didn’t think so. Thanks, Al. Hello, James? I’ve always wanted to say this: ‘Stop the presses!'”

*** This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. ***