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In the summer of 2006, Brian Mulroney got out his famous Rolodex and began phoning his many friends. There was something he wanted to share with them, he confided in that famous baritone. He had received a letter from Karlheinz Schreiber, apologizing for any trouble he had caused him. Mr. Schreiber referred to "a very painful misunderstanding between us" that had been cleared up, and said he had been duped into appearing on the CBC's fifth estate insinuating that there was something fishy about their dealings. He described them both as the innocent victims of a vendetta.

"There is no 'Airbus Affair' involving Brian Mulroney and furthermore there is nothing to hide," he wrote. "The discussion and financial arrangements between you and me about future industrial projects have been correct, private and nobody's business. You were the best advocate I could have retained."

Why was Mr. Mulroney so eager to share this letter? Obviously, the former prime minister wanted to reassure his supporters that the $300,000 in cash he had received from Mr. Schreiber was for legitimate business purposes. Mr. Schreiber himself said so.

Later, however, Mr. Schreiber changed his mind. He is currently suing for his money back, claiming that Mr. Mulroney did nothing to earn it.

As we puzzle over this abrupt about-face, please keep in mind that Mr. Schreiber is one of the slipperiest characters alive. He'd sell his mother to avoid extradition back to Germany, where he faces a multitude of bribery and corruption charges. There's no reason to believe a word he says. Yet, now he has created a crisis, not just for Mr. Mulroney but for the Harper government, which was forced to react when Mr. Schreiber filed a sworn affidavit in court saying he had struck a business deal with Mr. Mulroney while he was still in office.

Mr. Schreiber is pulling everybody's strings - not bad for someone who's locked up in a Toronto jail. The man is like a creepy cross between Machiavelli and Harry Houdini. He has magically escaped extradition for eight years, thanks to a judicial system that allows people to appeal until they die of old age. Every time he's almost on the plane, his lawyers file another piece of paper, and he wiggles out of it. Eddie Greenspan couldn't get Conrad Black off the hook, but he's earning every penny of his fees from Mr. Schreiber. Ironically, if our justice system worked the way it should, Mr. Schreiber would be back in Germany and the story might be dead.

Why, then, did he write that kiss-and-make-up letter? In the affidavit, Mr. Schreiber claims Mr. Mulroney requested it. He says Mr. Mulroney promised to show this letter to Stephen Harper, to demonstrate that the two men were on good terms. Was his hope that Mr. Harper would then tell his justice minister to block the extradition proceedings?

A month after Mr. Schreiber wrote the letter, the Mulroneys were guests of the Harpers at Harrington Lake. Mr. Mulroney did not mention the letter, Mr. Harper said. It would obviously have been grossly improper to do so. Mr. Mulroney did, however, take care to share it with his friends. And presumably when the letter failed to produce results, Mr. Schreiber changed his mind and sued.

It's possible - maybe even likely - that the Mulroney-Schreiber affair was basically what both men said it was: a perfectly routine commercial deal, except that it was done in cash, without the niceties of paperwork or a dated letter of agreement or an invoice for services rendered. It's possible that Mr. Mulroney was desperate to conceal the matter simply because he knew how awful it would look. But one would like to know exactly what was said during Mr. Schreiber's meeting with Mr. Mulroney while he was prime minister, and what role Mr. Mulroney's long-time fixer, Fred Doucet, played to facilitate their dealings. I suspect the air will be cleared only if the three men who were in the room are made to testify under oath.

mwente@globeandmail.com