In High Places

Harvey Warrender was in the cabinet line-up. 'A profitable -journey.' His manner was carefully correct, containing no hint of their previous clash. He added, 'And you too, Margaret.'

'Thank you,' the Prime Minister answered. His response was notably less courteous than to the others.

Unexpectedly Margaret said, 'Haven't you a Latin tag for us, Harvey?'

Warrender's eyes flickered between the two. 'Sometimes I have the impression your husband dislikes my little gambits.'

'Never mind that,' Margaret said. 'I think it's rather fun.' -

The Immigration Minister smiled slightly. 'In that. case, may it be true: vectatio, interque, et mutata regio vigorem dant.'

'I dig the vigorem bit,' Stuart Cawston said. 'What's the rest, Harvey?'

'An observation of Seneca,' Warrender responded. 'Voyage, travel, and a change of place impart vigour.'

'I'm quite vigorous, with or without travel,' James Howden declared curtly. The exchange had annoyed him and he took Margaret's arm firmly, steering her towards the US Ambassador who moved forward, doffing his hat. As if instinctively the others held back.

'Angry, this is an unexpected pleasure,' Howden said.

'On the contrary. Prime Minister – my privilege and honour.' The ambassador bowed slightly to Margaret. Phillip Angrove, a grizzled career diplomat with friends in many countries of the world, had a way of making protocol courtesies seem personally meant, as perhaps, at times, they were. We tend too much, Howden thought, to discount everything that is said politely as surface dressing only. He noticed the ambassador was stooped at the shoulders rather more than usual.

Margaret had observed too. 'I hope your arthritis hasn't bothered you again, Mr Angrove.'

'It has, I'm afraid.' A rueful smile. 'The Canadian winter has many delights, Mrs Howden, but also penalties for us arthritics.'

'For heaven's sake don't be polite about our winter!' Margaret exclaimed. 'My husband and I were born here and still dislike it.'

'I hope not entirely.' The ambassador spoke quietly, his seamed face meditative. 'I have often considered, Mrs Howden, that Canadians have much to thank their climate for: stalwart character and hardihood, but with great warmth seldom far away.'

'If true, it's another reason we've so much in common.' James Howden offered his hand. 'You'll be joining us in Washington, I understand.'

The ambassador nodded assent. 'My own flight leaves a few minutes after yours.' As their hands clasped, 'A safe journey, sir, and a return with honour.'

As Howden and Margaret turned away, towards the waiting aircraft, the Press group closed in. There were a dozen reporters from the parliamentary press gallery and wire services, along with a self-important TV interviewer and accompanying film crew. Brian Richardson had stationed himself where he could hear and be seen by Howden, and the Prime Minister gave a grin and friendly nod, to which Richardson responded. The two of them had already discussed press arrangements for the trip and agreed that the principal official statement -though still not revealing the major issues involved – should be made on arrival in Washington. AU the same, Howden knew he must provide something for use by the Ottawa press corps. He spoke briefly, employing some of the regular platitudes concerning Canada-US relations. He then awaited questions.

The first was from the TV interviewer. 'There have been rumours, Mr Prime Minister, that this trip of yours may involve more than just trade talks.'

'Well, that's true,' Howden said with apparent seriousness. 'K there's time the President and I may play a little handball.' There was a ripple of laughter; he had touched the right note, being good-natured without scoring off the interviewer.

'But besides the sporting side, sir' – the TV man smiled dutifully, exposing a double moon of faultless white teeth -'hasn't there been some talk of major military decisions being taken at this time?'

So there had been leakage, after all, though obviously just in a general way. It was not surprising really, Howden thought; he had once heard someone say that when a secret went beyond a single person it was a secret no longer. All the same it was a reminder that vital information could not be stoppered up too long, and after Washington he must act quickly if he hoped to control release of the major news himself.

Now he answered, speaking carefully and remembering that what he said could be quoted later on, 'Naturally the subject of our joint defence will be discussed in Washington, as it always is on these occasions, along with other subjects of mutual concern. But as to decisions, any decisions will, of course, be taken in Ottawa with the full knowledge of Parliament and, if necessary, parliamentary approval.'

There was a small outburst of hand clapping from spectators.

'Can you say, Mr Howden,' the TV interviewer asked, 'whether the recent submarine incident will be discussed and, if so, what the Canadian attitude will be?'

'I am quite sure it will be discussed,' Howden answered, his long, beaked face serious, 'and naturally we share the deep United States concern at the tragic loss of the Defiant and its crew. But beyond that, at present, I have no further statement to make.'

'In that case, sir…' the TV man began, but another reporter cut in impatiently, 'Do you mind if someone else has a turn, chum? Newspapers haven't been abolished yet, you know.'

There was a murmur of assent from others in the press group and James Howden smiled inwardly. He saw the TV interviewer flush, then nod to the camera crew. That particular portion of film, the Prime Minister guessed, would be edited out later.

The interrupter, a brisk, middle-aged journalist named George Haskins who worked for the Winnipeg Free Press, now proclaimed, 'Mr Prime Minister, I'd like to ask a question, not about Washington, but about the Government's stand on this man-without-a-country issue.'

James Howden frowned. Puzzled, he asked, 'How's that again, George?'

'I'm talking about this young fellow Henri Duval, sir – the one in Vancouver that the Immigration Department won't let in. Can you tell us why the Government is taking the stand it is?'

Howden caught Brian Richardson's eye and the party director shoved forward to the front. 'Gentlemen,' Richardson said, 'surely this is not the time…'

'Like hell it isn't, Brian!' the reporter Haskins flared. 'It's the hottest news story in the country, that's all.' Someone else added grumblingly, 'What with TV and public relations you can't hardly ask questions any more.'

Good-humouredly James Howden interposed, 'I'll answer any question that I can. I always have, haven't I?'

Haskins said, 'Yes, sir, you sure have. It's just other people who try to do the blocking.' He glared accusingly at Brian Richardson, who stared back, his face impassive.

'My only doubt' – the Prime Minister said, 'and obviously Mr Richardson's – is whether the subject matter is appropriate at this particular time.' He hoped he could lead the questioning away; if not, he supposed he would have to make the best of it. Sometimes he thought, there must be advantages in having a press secretary – as the US President did – who could handle this kind of thing. But he had always avoided appointing one for fear of becoming too remote.

Tomkins of the Toronto Star, a mild, scholarly Englishman who was greatly respected in the capital, said courteously, 'The fact is, sir, most of us here have telegrams from our editors asking for a quote from you about this man Duval. A lot of people, it seems, are interested in what's going to happen to him.'

'I see.' There was to be no avoidance of the subject then. Even a Prime Minister, if he were wise, could not bypass that kind of appeal. It was infuriating, however, to realize that some of the attention to his own Washington journey might be taken away as a result. Howden considered carefully. He could see Harvey Warrender edging nearer but ignored him, remembering angrily the other's obstinate stupidity which had caused this to happen. He caught Richardson's eye. The party director's expression seemed to say: 'I warned you there could be trouble if we didn't keep Warrender in line.' Or perhaps by now Richardson had guessed there was an additional factor involved; he was shrewd enough for that. But either way, with Harvey Warrender's threat still poised like a guillotine, James Howden himself would have to deal with the situation as competently as he could. One thing was certain, he reasoned: the incident, while briefly embarrassing, was the type of thing which would undoubtedly blow over in a few days and be forgotten. He noticed the TV film camera was in action again; perhaps, after all, this was a good time to explain the official position forcefully and thereby silence criticism.

'All right, gentlemen,' the Prime Minister declared briskly, 'here is what I have to say.' In front of him pencils poised, then scribbled as he began.

'It has been pointed out to me that there has been considerable newspaper coverage concerning the individual whose name Mr Haskins mentioned a moment ago. Some of the reports, I must say quite frankly, have been of a somewhat sensational nature, tending to ignore certain facts – facts which the Government, because of its responsibilities, cannot ignore.'

'Will you tell us what these are, sir?' This time, the Montreal Gazette.

'M you'll be patient I'm coming to that,' Howden's voice held a touch of sharpness. He disliked interruptions and it did no harm occasionally to remind these men that they were not interviewing some junior minister. 'I was about to remark that there are many individual cases receiving no publicity but which, nevertheless, come regularly before the Department of Citizenship and Immigration. And dealing with such cases, fairly and humanely, yet on the basis of law, is not a new experience either for this Government or its Immigration officers.'

The Ottawa Journal asked, 'Isn't this case a little different, Mr Prime Minister? I mean, the man having no country and all that.'

James Howden said soberly, 'When you are dealing with human beings, Mr Chase, every case is different. That is why – to provide a measure of fairness and consistency – we have an Immigration Act, approved by Parliament and the Canadian people. The Government, as it must by law, operates within the framework of that act and, in the instance we are speaking of, this is exactly what has been done.' He paused, waiting for the note takers to catch up with his words, then continued. 'I have, of course, none of the details immediately before me. But I have been assured that the application of the young man in question has been considered carefully on its merits and that he is in no way admissible to Canada under the Immigration Act.'

A young reporter, whom Howden failed to recognize, asked, 'Wouldn't you say, sir, there are times when human considerations are more important than technicalities?'

Howden smiled. 'If you are asking me a rhetorical question, my answer is that human considerations are always important, and this Government has frequently demonstrated its awareness of them. But if your question is specifically about the case we are speaking of, let me repeat that human factors have been taken into account as far as is possible. However, I must remind you again that the Government is bound – as it must, and should be – by what it can accomplish legally.'

The wind blew bitingly and James Howden felt Margaret shiver beside him. This was enough, he decided; the next question would be the last. It came from the mild-mannered Tomkins who began, almost apologetically, 'The Leader of the Opposition made a statement earlier this morning, sir.' The reporter shuffled copy paper, consulting his notes, then went on, 'Mr Deitz said, "The Government should resolve the case of Henri Duval on broad human principles, rather than stubborn adherence to the letter of the law. The Minister of Citizenship and Immigration has power, if he chooses to use it, to enact an order in council permitting this tragically unfortunate young man to enter Canada as an immigrant."'