Ways For A Corrupt Politician To Get Away Freely

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SATIRE | “Boss, the world record for high jump is 2.45 metres – a little over eight feet,” one of the two the bodyguards told the Datuk Seri. Jumping over the fence was ruled out. After spending a few days in the slammer, it was not something he wanted to hear, but was forced to.
The millions he had amassed did not matter anymore, His fleet of luxury cars had been seized and all his bank accounts frozen. What was left was something precious – his personal freedom and that mattered most. More time with the enforcers means more spilling of the beans, naming more accomplices, the hidden assets and the crooked officials who had provided him cover all these years.
“You can do a pole vault. That Swedish guy Mondo Duplantis vaulted 6.18 metres – more than 20 feet – in February this year.” The chatter within the heavily tinted windows of the black Alphard was in hushed tones. The last the Datuk Seri wanted to hear was: “Tak sempat bawah galah yang kita siapkan.” (Didn’t have time to bring the pole we prepared). Time was the essence of the well-thought-out execution of the plan.
There is only one entrance and one exit to the sprawling building complex on the hill. It would indeed be foolhardy to drive through the barriers as there was already a notable presence of armed personnel at the gate. Even if crashing through is successful, what would happen if they open fire?
The road which ran along the perimeter fence was one-way. If driven at the designated speed limit of 30kph, it would take more than a minute to get to the exit and every second will be precious.
In those fleeting moments, it also occurred to him that any “disappearing act” must be believable and at all costs. The tips and the help that were rendered by third parties must never be known. He couldn’t betray anyone, anymore.
Scaling the fence may not be realistic – being a shade lighter than Thai golfer Kiradech Aphibarnrat, such a story will not make it that credible. At the same time, his thinking was on overdrive. One phone call did the trick.


“Now, this is the plan,” the Datuk Seri said as the bodyguards and driver listened attentively. “All of you must work collectively and get me over the fence.’ He told them exactly what each had to do.
As the car took the corner, the driver brought the car close to the fence. Both the bodyguards jumped out and one climbed on the roof of the car. The other propped up the Datuk Seri through the sun-roof while the one on the roof hauled him up.
The second bodyguard climbed on to the roof making it three but who cared if the car roof could take their combined weight. Any damage would be negligible, but at the end of the day, it ain’t over until the fat man jumps over the fence.
Both propped him up and he climbed over the fence, The lackey whom he had earlier called was on the kerb to pick him up. Soon after the Alphard was at the gate and there was no sight of the Datuk Seri.
Despite sitting uncomfortably in a MyVi when he was used to the leather seats of Jaguars and Bentleys, the Datuk Seri told his lackey: “Don’t worry. Take a slow drive. Don’t break the speed limit. Let’s just get out of this area.”
The lackey rep-lied: “Boss, they will be hunting for you. Your name and photo will be in all the newspapers and on TV.”


Jho Low
The Datuk Seri thought for a while and replied: “I did not escape from custody. I was given bail. At the point of climbing over the fence, I was a free man. What is there to be afraid about?
“If anything, they can talk to my lawyers. I have engaged them and paid fat fees. For a change, let them do some work and provide the answers.”
Then, looking at the driver, he asked: “Do you think they will do that? They will feel ashamed to tell the public that someone slipped through their hands in a security area. Where will they put their face? Two sets of officials from two agencies unable to apprehend an individual? It has never happened.”
“Datuk Seri, Jho Low pun sudah lari, tak boleh tangkap (Jho Low also absconded and cannot be caught,” the lackey remarked.
Two days later, the Datuk Seri was relaxing in a friend’s yacht anchored off the coast. With a cigar cutter in one hand and a Cohiba in the other, he recalled the events of the past week. They may have seized a big pile of cash, but there was plenty more stashed in several hideouts.
His wife, although the other half of the Bonnie and Clyde operation, does not know about the hidden cash. There are things women, especially wives, should not know about, he reasoned.
What was worrying him more was the number of accomplices in high places who have been drawn into this whole episode. They were in high positions – enough to provide cover and protection for the operation but it never occurred to the Datuk Seri that all good things must come to an end. The consolation was that all enriched themselves and had enough to walk away from their jobs.
Then, going through the newspapers that were brought to him, he summoned the lackey. “See, what I told you. Not a word. They are all writing about “a suspect”. It could be anyone. They never mentioned my name or quoted the officials. All using sources. No one wants to go on record.
“If I am wanted, they would have circulated my photographs to all the police stations and they would have been published in the newspapers.”
At the office, officials were questioned. There were red faces when summoned by those in the upper echelon. How could they admit that they goofed? What could they say? Can the cat be let out of the bag? Has the time come for the first round of confessions?

R NADESWARAN is watching the real caper unfold because officialdom has gone on silent mode. Comments: [email protected]. - Mkini

This is a work of fiction. Characters and incidents are the products of the writer’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
The views expressed here are those of the author/contributor and do not necessarily represent the views of MMKtT.

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