The 680,000 shares were sold for $15 apiece. By Dec. 14, a week after the tax rate announcement, they had dropped to $13.96.
Employing a time-worn technique practised by scoundrels far and wide, Morneau is embracing moral outrage, threatening to take the Opposition to court over the impertinence of their questions:
Morneau said if the Opposition wants to make its claims outside the Commons, where MPs enjoy the legal protection afforded by parliamentary privilege, they will “absolutely be hearing how the legal system works.”His strategy did not work:
Shortly after Question Period began, he [Pierre Poillievre] challenged the now-absent finance minister to take things outside.
“Would he commit that if I go out and repeat my question in the lobby at this moment, that the finance minister will meet me out there and answer the question?”
Poilievre then walked out, and did just that. But he was greeted by an empty lobby, as Morneau had already left to deliver a scheduled speech in Toronto.
It would seem that old Bill needs some lessons in basic poker strategy.
Lest one think this is just a nasty partisan fight between the Conservatives and the Liberals, the third party also smells some rot:
The NDP is also taking aim at Morneau over the share sale. The party's ethics critic, Nathan Cullen, has written a letter to Ethics Commissioner Mary Dawson, requesting she investigate.As a political neophyte, Mr. Morneau has much to learn. He might start his lessons by checking with average Canadians about how they feel when privilege once more apparently games the system and leaves the rest of us holding the proverbial bag.
"If the finance minister used his inside knowledge to sell his shares at an advantageous time to financially profit, it would be in direct violation of the rules that prevent someone from profiting directly from their work in government," Cullen wrote in a letter that was sent Monday afternoon.
"I respectfully ask that you look into this matter as urgently as possible," the letter says.