The Key

Lia wore black well. Her dress was understated yet stylish. The heels of the black stiletto shoes emphasised her slim ankles and calves. Lia had never attended a funeral before. She imagined the weather on such an occasion, would be wet and windy. In contrast, the sun was shining and birds could be heard loudly singing. Her father would have approved, Lia smiled inwardly. 

Her father had been a Minister in the Cabinet, a close confidant of the Prime Minister, his death was unexpected, a heart attack according to the coroner. Today she would bury her father but his secrets and in turn the Government’s would be laid bare.

Lia had always been an inquisitive child and loved books. All books, old, new, fiction or fact. She loved the feel and smell of them. In the days following the death of her father, she would escape to the library, which doubled as his office and immerse herself in the life of others, be it imaginary or real. 

Lia had never known her mother she had died giving birth to her. Although Lia knew it was not her fault, she always felt immense guilt. She often wondered if her father resented her in some tiny way for being the reason he lost his wife. If he did, he never showed it, he showed Lia nothing but love, she was his world. Over the years they built a strong close relationship, they had a special bond. Despite his busy schedule, he always made time for her; she never came second best to his career.

After her mother’s death, Lia’s aunt and uncle moved into the house to help care for her. Unable to have children themselves, they were able to experience the joys of bringing up a small human along with the dirty nappies and temper tantrums. Lia was turning eighteen the following day. She should have been feeling excited instead, she felt an overwhelming sadness that her father would not be there. It was for this reason, she once again found herself ensconced on the library floor, a million miles away on some exotic adventure. 

Moving, she sat on the window seat of the large bay window and gazed out over the beautifully tended gardens. Her father had loved nature and the garden was environmentally landscaped to encourage diverse wildlife. In the summer, the garden was filled with varying noises from the different creatures, birds and insects. Lia smiled at the memory of her father’s delight.

Having finished her book, she placed it back exactly where she’d found it, as she did, another book caught her eye. It stood proud on the shelf. She knew her father was very particular, everything had its place. Only she had been in the library since his death. Curious, Lia moved the ladders on its track and climbed up. It must have been the last book her father had read, Lia mused. Strange then it was a book of scriptures, Lia had no recollection of him being particularly religious. He had been too busy with politics for theology.

As she pondered this, an image flashed in her mind of her father weeks before his death. He had been more stressed than usual and moody, something her father never was. Why was she remembering this detail now?

Flicking through the scriptures, Lia noticed sentences and words her father had underlined. 

Psalm 41:9: ‘Even my close friend, someone I trusted, has turned against me.’ 

Samuel 15:31: ‘Ahithophel is among the conspirators with Absalom.’

Matthew 7:7 ‘Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you.’

Matthew 16:19 ‘I will give you the keys.’

Lia read and reread the verses, why would he underline these? She wondered. She felt sure somehow they were a sign, her father had left the book for her to find but what was he trying to tell her? Maybe the reason he had been moody had something to do with his work. Were other cabinet members or the Prime Minister even, conspiring against him? If so, Lia could see no reason why, he was a good hardworking Minister. The obvious thing was to look for a key first and foremost, maybe that will help. Lia looked through his desk drawers, but nothing. In the corner sat an old solid oak bureau but the key was missing. Lia returned to the scriptures and riffled through the book. In the back, a key sat lodged in a chiselled-out hole. Lia was too engrossed in solving the puzzle, to react as she would ordinarily to such desecration of a book. 

The key was small but ornate, made of bronze with an intricately designed bow, and a twisted blade which straightened at the tip. Lia had never been in the bureau, even now she felt as though she was invading her father’s privacy but she was drawn to it. The key fit, she pulled the door down to reveal a writing desk resplendent in green and gold leatherette. Inside, lots of papers, Lia hesitated for a second before taking them out.

Scattered across the floor, Lia stared at all the letters and documents with the House of Commons mark. Documents which were private and confidential and Lia felt sure should never have left her father’s parliamentary office. Sat crossed legged she meticulously put everything into date order. As she did three words seemed to be repeated ‘Operation Liberty’ and ‘Covid’.  How could Covid now be linked to anything? It had been four years since the start of the pandemic and two years since all restrictions were lifted. Whatever it was it was clear to Lia her father was fervently against it. 

Lia began to read every letter and document and a picture began to emerge. ‘Operation Liberty’ was state manipulation, containment and control. As far as Lia was concerned, it was an abuse of power and it all stemmed from Covid. Laws implemented which the public abided by to protect each other were now being looked at as a way for the government to control the lives of the public. 

Lia was not a political animal but she began to put pieces together. She remembered on more than one occasion different Ministers demanded the need to leave the European Convention of Human Rights. In the news too, laws to help increase the powers of the Police. Not just to prevent protest and worker’s rights to strike but over everyday life. The laws would silence any dissenters. Maybe they already have, Lia thought the colour draining from her face. Could the government really have taken out her father?

If her father was so concerned surely he would have left her more evidence to find. Going back to the bureau she pulled out every drawer and in the smallest she found a USB stick. Lia took a deep intake of breath when the screen came to life and her father stared back.

‘My darling girl, if you are watching this, then you are close to the truth, a truth that has to be made public. I tried and failed, you cannot.’

I still need more she thought. It was then she phoned the coroner to ask for more tests. Test that would establish if there was a drug in his system which could have caused the heart attack.

With the sun shining and the birds singing, Lia was ready to say her final goodbye to her father. It would only be the immediate family attending the graveside. As she stood outside the church shaking hands and thanking people for attending, Lia was acutely aware of the gaze of television and press cameras, as was the Prime Minister. 

‘I am so sorry for your loss,’ the Prime Minster uttered, a false sincerity dripping so easily from his tongue as he held Lia’s hands. ‘Your father will be very much missed. He was a great politician and a great man.’

Lia leaned forward whispering into his ear. ‘My father may not have succeeded in blowing the whistle but I will bring you down. I know you murdered him and why.’

‘You’re grieving; it is only natural to look for someone or something to blame my dear.’

‘I gave everything to the media, all the documents and letters, along with the recorded testimony of my father, before I went to the police. Soon the whole world will know about Operation Liberty and how you murdered a good, honest decent man.’