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Political Science General

The Truth Shows Up

A Reporter's Fifteen-Year Odyssey Tracking Down the Truth About Mulroney, Sch

by (author) Harvey Cashore

Publisher
Key Porter Books
Initial publish date
Apr 2010
Category
General, General
  • Hardback

    ISBN
    9781554701926
    Publish Date
    Apr 2010
    List Price
    $34.95

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Description

The story begins back in 1995 when 29-year-old Harvey Cashore?a producer for the fifth estate investigating a story about bribes in the airline industry?is tipped to a story that Airbus Industrie has paid out millions of dollars to officials in Canada. The Truth Shows Up is Harvey Cashore’s fascinating story of his more than ten-year journalistic odyssey tracking down the story of Airbus and the astonishing charges linking Prime Minister Brian Mulroney to money-lender Karlheinz Schreiber. Parts of this story have been told before. But the most explosive revelations have never been revealed. Until now. Not only does Cashore have unprecedented access to the tight-lipped Schreiber but he has for this book a new and impeccable source that sheds new light on Mulroney’s very public denials of wrongdoing. As well, the book is an unforgettable portrait of the lonely and often very dangerous job of an investigative journalist. Cashore was routinely vilified, intimidated, threatened, investigated and twice was sued in increasingly aggressive efforts to stop him from uncovering the truth. There were times when he believed his career was over. But he would not give up. As Schreiber himself candidly told Cashore in 2006: “Sooner or later the truth shows up, whether you like it or not. You just have to wait.” The Truth Shows Up is as much a political expose as it is a work of personal redemption.

About the author

HARVEY CASHORE is Senior Producer of The CBC News Investigative Unit and co-author with Stevie Cameron of the bestselling book The Last Amigo: Karlheinz Schreiber and the Anatomy of a Scandal. He lives in Toronto.

Harvey Cashore's profile page

Excerpt: The Truth Shows Up: A Reporter's Fifteen-Year Odyssey Tracking Down the Truth About Mulroney, Sch (by (author) Harvey Cashore)

A sample from The Truth Shows Up It is the winter of 2005 and I am in Montreal about to meet Luc Lavoie, Brian Mulroney’s friend and public spokesperson at his elite men’s club in old Montreal, known only by its address, 357C. We haven’t seen each other for several years, but I have some new information linking the former Prime Minister to secret commission accounts in Switzerland. I’ve also heard that Mulroney filed false tax returns and that he sought a false statement from Schreiber to be used in future legal proceedings. A concierge escorts me into a small but elegant room with plush, high-backed chairs. Lavoie is already seated, smoking a cigar. A couple sits at the next table; otherwise the room is empty. Lavoie will try to find out what I know; I am trying to find out what Mulroney knows. “Hi, Harvey, long time no see,” he says. “Sit down. Have a drink.” Lavoie’s voice is nearly as deep as Mulroney’s, he’s now the VP of Quebecor, the Canadian media giant, and I get the sense this is going to be a long evening. He needs to unburden himself, and I think I know why. Six years before, in an earlier conversation with me, he told me that he believed Schreiber was the biggest fucking liar in the world. I broadcast that clip and it changed everything. It was the beginning of the disintegration of the friendship between Mulroney and Schreiber — their secrets, once a sacred trust, weren’t so sacred anymore. And so now - despite the decorum of the club, the Scotch and the intimate atmosphere - Luc Lavoie spoke his mind. “You fucked me,” he yelled. “Why did you fuck me?” He called the broadcast of that conversation the worst day of his life. I could understand why, but wasn’t entirely clear why it was my fault. The unburdening didn’t end there. “I’m from Rimouski,” he announced, though I couldn’t figure out where he was headed with that one. That’s great, I thought. “In Rimouski we don’t settle disputes like this,” he said, referring to our conversation, “We settle them in the back alley.” Then something about wishing we lived years ago when there weren’t any laws about beating people up. I decided not to accept his pugilistic offer, in fact I may have laughed, but then he got personal. He told me he had looked into my brother and my father. “What’s your point, Luc,” I asked? “That we can investigate you, too.”