Honour Among Thieves (13 page)

‘What
do I do about clothes if Saib’s don’t fit?’ she had asked Kratz. ‘We know I’m taller
than she is.’

‘You
must carry enough in your overnight bag to last for the first few days,’ he had
told her, ‘and then purchase what you will need for six months in Paris.’ Two
thousand French francs had been supplied for this purpose.

‘It
must be some time since you’ve been shopping in Paris,’ she had told him.
‘That’s just about enough for a pair of jeans and a couple of T-shirts.’ Kratz
had reluctantly handed over another five thousand francs.

At
9.27 the phone rang.

When
Tony Cavalli and his father entered the boardroom, they took the remaining
chairs at each end of the table, as the chairman and chief executive of any
distinguished company might. Cavalli always used the oak-panelled room in the
basement of his father’s house on 75th Street for such meetings, but no one
present believed they were there to conduct a normal board meeting. They knew
there would be no agenda and no minutes.

In
front of each of the six places where the board members were seated was a
notepad, pencil and a glass of water, as there would have been at a thousand
such meetings across America that morning. But at this partic-ular gathering,
in front of every place were also two long envelopes, one thin and one bulky,
neither giving any clue as to its contents.

Tony’s
eyes swept the faces of the men seated round the table. All of them had two
things in common: they had reached the top of their professions, and they were
willing to break the law. Two of them had served jail sentences, albeit some
years before, while three of the others would have done so had they not been
able to afford the finest lawyers available. The sixth was himself a lawyer.

‘Gentlemen,’
Cavalli began, ‘I’ve invited you to join me this evening to discuss a business
proposition that might be described as a little unusual.’ He paused before
continuing, ‘We have been requested by an interested party to steal the
Declaration of Independence from the National Archives.’

Tony
paused for a moment as uproar broke out immediately and the guests tried to
outdo each other with one-liners.

‘Just
roll it up and take it away.’

‘I
suppose we could bribe every member of the staff.’

‘Set
the White House on fire. That would at least cause a diversion.’

‘Write
in and tell them that you won it on a game show.’

Tony
was content to wait for his colleagues to run out of wisecracks before he spoke
again.

‘Exactly
my reaction when we were first approached,’ he admitted. ‘But after several
weeks of research and preparation, I hope you will at least grant me an
opportunity to present my case.’

They
quickly came to order and began concentrating on Tony’s every word, though
‘scepticism’ would have best described the expression on their faces.

‘During
the past weeks, my father and I have been working on a draft plan to steal the
Declaration of Independence. We are now ready to share that knowledge with you,
because I must admit that we have reached a point where we cannot advance
further on this project without the professional abilities of everyone seated
around this table. Let me assure you, gentlemen, that your selection has not
been a random exercise.

‘But
first I would like you all to see the Declaration of Independence for
yourself.’ Tony pressed a button underneath the table and the doors behind him
swung open. The butler entered the room carrying two thin sheets of glass, a
parchment held between them. He placed the glass frame on the centre of the
table. The six sceptics leaned forward to study the masterpiece. It was several
moments before anyone offered an opinion.

‘Bill
O’Reilly’s work, would be my guess,’ said Frank Piemonte, the lawyer, as he
leaned over to admire the fine detail of the signatures below the text. ‘He
once offered to pay me in forged bills, and I would have accepted if I’d got
him off.’

Tony
nodded, and after they had all spent a little more time studying the parchment,
he said, ‘So, allow me to reword my earlier statement. We are not so much
planning to steal the Declaration of Independence as to replace the original
with this copy.’ A smile settled on the lips of two of the previously sceptical
guests.

‘You
will now be aware,’ said Tony, ‘of the amount of preparation that has gone into
this exercise so far, and, indeed, the expense my father and I have been put
to. But the reason we have continued is because we feel the rewards if we are
successful far outweigh the risk of being caught. If you will open the thin
envelopes in front of you, I believe the contents will make my point more
clearly. Inside each envelope you will find a piece of paper on which is
written the sum of money you will receive if you decide to become a member of
the executive team.’

While
the six men tore open the thinner of their two envelopes, Tony continued, ‘If
you feel, on discovering the amount involved, that the reward does not warrant
the risk, now is the time to leave. I trust that those of us who remain may
have confidence in your discretion because, as you will be only too aware, our
lives will be in your hands.’

‘And
theirs in ours,’ said the chairman, speaking for the first time.

A
ripple of nervous laughter broke out around the table as each of the six men
eyed the unsigned cheque in front of him.

‘That
figure,’ said Tony, ‘is the payment you will receive should we fail. If we
succeed, the amount will be tripled.’

‘So
will the jail sentence if we get caught,’ said Bruno Morelli, speaking for the
first time.

‘Summing
up, gentlemen,’ said Cavalli, ignoring the comment, ‘if you decide to join the
executive team, you will receive ten per cent of that payment in advance when
you leave tonight, and the remaining sum within seven days of the contract
being completed. This would be paid into any bank of your choice in any country
of your choosing.

‘Before
you make your decision, there’s one further thing I’d like you all to see.’ Once
again Tony pressed a button under the table, and this time the doors opened at
the far end of the room. The sight that greeted them caused two of the guests
to immediately stand, one to gasp and the remaining three to simply stare in
disbelief.

‘Gentlemen,
I am happy that you were able to join me today. I wanted to assure you all of
my commitment to this project, and I hope you’ll feel able to be part of the
executive team. I’ll have to leave you now, gentlemen,’ said the man standing
next to the chairman in the Ozark accent that had become so familiar to the
American people during the past few months, ‘so that you can study Mr Cavalli’s
proposition in greater detail. You can be confident that I’ll do everything I
can to help make the change this country needs. But for now, I have one or two
pressing engagements. I feel sure you’ll understand.’ The actor smiled, and
shook hands warmly with everyone around the table before strolling out of the
boardroom.

Spontaneous
applause broke out after the door had closed behind him. Tony allowed himself a
smile of satisfaction.

‘Gentlemen,
my father and I will now leave you for a few minutes to consider your
decision.’

The
chairman and chief executive rose without another word and left the room.

‘What
do you think?’ asked Tony as he poured his father a whisky and water from the
cabinet in his study.

‘A
lot of water,’ he replied. ‘I have a feeling we may be in for a long night.’
‘But did they buy it?’

‘Can’t
be certain,’ replied the old man. ‘I was watching their faces while you were
giving the presentation, and sure as hell, they didn’t doubt the work you’ve
put in. They were all impressed by the parchment and Lloyd Adams’ performance,
but other than Bruno and Frank they didn’t give much away.’

‘Let’s
start with Frank,’ said Tony. ‘First in then out, as Frank always is, but he
likes money far too much to walk away from an offer as good as this.’

‘You’re
that confident?’ said Tony.

‘It’s
not just the money,’ replied his father. ‘Frank’s not going to have to be there
on the day, is he? So he’ll get his share whatever happens. I’ve never yet met
a lawyer who would make a good field commander. They’re too used to being paid
whether they win or lose.’

‘If
you’re right, Al Calabrese may turn out to be a problem. He’s got the most to
lose.’

‘As
our trade union leader, he’ll certainly have to be out there on centre stage
most of the day, but I suspect he won’t be able to resist the challenge.’

‘And
what about Bruno? If -’ began the chief executive, but he was cut short as the
doors swung open and Al Calabrese walked into the room. ‘We were just talking
about you, Al.’

‘Not
too politely, I hope.’

‘Well,
that depends on . ..’ said Tony.

‘On
whether I’m in?’

‘Or
out,’ said the chairman.

‘I’m
in up to my neck is the answer,’ said Al, smiling. ‘So you’d better have a
foolproof plan to present to us.’ He turned to face Tony. ‘Because I don’t want
to spend the rest of my life on top of America’s most wanted list.’

‘And
the others?’ asked the chairman, as Bruno Morelli brushed past them without
even saying goodnight.

H
ANNAH
NERVOUSLY GRABBED the ringing phone. ‘This is Reception, madam. We were just
wondering if you’ll be checking out before midday, or do you require the room
for an extra night?’

‘No,
thank you,’ said Hannah. ‘I’ll have left by twelve, one way or the other.’

Two
minutes later, the phone rang again. It was Colonel Kratz. ‘Who were you
speaking to a moment ago?’

‘Reception
were asking me when I would be checking out.’

‘I
see,’ said Kratz. ‘Your baggage has been retrieved,’ was all he added.

Hannah
replaced the phone and stood up. She felt a shot of adrenalin go through her
body as she prepared for her first real test. She picked up her overnight bag
and left the room, switching the sign on the door to ‘Clean Me Please’.

Once
she had reached the foyer, she had to wait only a few minutes before the hotel
minibus returned from the airport on its circular journey. She sat alone in the
back for the short trip to the departure area, then headed straight for the
bookshop as instructed. She began to browse among the hardbacks, struck by how
many American and British authors were obviously read by the Lebanese.

‘Do
you know where I can get some money changed, miss?’ Hannah turned to find a
priest smiling at her, who had spoken in Arabic with a slight mid-Atlantic
accent. Hannah apologised and replied in Arabic that she didn’t know where the
currency exchange was, but perhaps the girl at the counter could help him.

As
she turned back, Hannah became aware of someone else standing by her side. He
removed a copy of A Suitable Boy from the shelf and replaced it with a small
package. ‘Good luck,’ he whispered, and was gone even before she had seen his
face. Hannah removed the package from the shelf and strolled slowly out of the bookshop.
She began to search for the check-in counter for Paris. It turned out to be the
one with the longest queue.

When
she reached the front, Hannah requested a nonsmoking seat.

The
girl behind the counter checked her ticket and then began tapping away on her
computer terminal. She looked puzzled. ‘Were you unhappy with the seat
previously allocated to you, Miss Saib?’

‘No,
it’s just fine,’ said Hannah, cursing herself for having made such a simple
mistake. ‘Sorry to have bothered you.’

‘The
flight will be boarding at Gate 17 in about fifteen minutes,’ the girl added
with a smile.

A
man pretending to read the Vikram Seth novel he had just purchased watched as
the plane took off. Satisfied he had carried out his instructions, he went to
the nearest phone booth and rang first Paris and then Colonel Kratz to confirm
that ‘The bird has flown.’

The
man in the priest’s collar also watched Miss Saib board her plane, and he too
made a phone call. Not to Paris or London, but to Dexter Hutchins in Langley,
Virginia.

Cavalli
and his father walked back into the room and once again resumed their places at
each end of the table. One seat was empty.

‘Too
bad about Bruno,’ said the chairman, licking his lips. ‘We’ll just have to find
someone else to make the sword.’

Cavalli
opened one of the six files in front of him. It was marked ‘Transport’. He
passed a copy to Al Calabrese.

‘Let’s
start with the Presidential motorcade, Al. I’m going to need at least four
limos, six motorcycle cops, two or three staff cars, two vans with surveillance
cameras and a counter-assault team in a black Chevy Suburban – all of them able
to pass the most eagle eye. I’ll also want an additional van that would
normally carry the White House media pool – the death-watch. Don’t forget, the
motorcade will be under far more scrutiny than last week, when we only had to
turn on the sirens at the last moment, and then for just a few seconds. There’s
bound to be someone in the crowd who either works in government or is a White
House junkie. It’s often children who spot the most elementary mistakes and
then tell their parents.’