Honour Among Thieves (20 page)

‘But
if my cars stay put you might never get started at all,’ said Al.

‘OK,
Al, you get moving, but make sure you’re back on the grid by 9.50.’ Cavalli
checked his watch. ‘That’s twenty-seven minutes.’ Al began running towards the
parked cars.

Cavalli
turned his attention to the director. ‘What time are you bringing the actor
out?’

‘Nine-fifty-five,
or the moment the last car is back in place. He’s being made up in that trailer
over there,’ said Johnny.

Cavalli
watched as the sixth limousine pulled away, and was relieved to see the traffic
start to flow again.

‘And
Gino’s Secret Service agents, what will happen to them now that the cars have
gone?’

‘Most
of them are hanging around with the extras, but they aren’t looking too
convincing.’

Cavalli’s
cellular phone began to ring. ‘I have to get back or you won’t have a film,
real or otherwise,’ said Johnny. Cavalli nodded and said ‘Yes,’ into the
mouthpiece as the director rushed away. Something caught Cavalli’s eye as he
tried to concentrate on the voice on the other end of the line.

‘The
helicopter is all set to take off at ten o’clock sharp, boss; but it loses its
slot at seven minutes past. The traffic cops won’t let it go up after that,
however much you gave to the Fraternal Order of Police.’

‘We’re
still running to schedule, despite some problems,’ said Cavalli, ‘so take her
up at ten and just hover over the route. Marshall and his staff must be able to
see and hear you when we arrive at the Archives. That’s all I care about.’

‘OK,
boss. Understood.’

Cavalli
checked his watch again. It was 9.36 and the traffic was now flowing smoothly.
He walked over to the officer co-ordinating the shoot for the city’s motion
picture and television office.

‘Don’t
worry,’ said the Lieutenant even before Cavalli had opened his mouth. ‘The
traffic will be stopped and the detour signs in place by 9.59. We’ll have you
moving on time, I promise.’

‘Thank
you, officer,’ said Cavalli, and quickly dialled Al Calabrese.

‘I
think you’d better start getting your boys back...’

‘Number
one has already left with two outriders. Number two’s just about to go; after
that, they leave at twenty-second intervals.’

‘You
should have been an army general,’ said Cavalli.

‘You
can blame the government for that. I just didn’t get the right education.’

Suddenly,
Pennsylvania Avenue was ablaze with lights. Cavalli, like everyone else,
shielded his eyes and then, just as suddenly, the lights were switched off,
making the morning sun appear like a dim lightbulb.

‘Good
sparks,’ Cavalli heard the director shout. ‘I could only spot one that didn’t
function. The seventh on the right.’

Cavalli
stood on the pavement and looked towards the corner of 13th Street, where he
could see the first of Al’s limousines with two outriders edging its way back
through the traffic. The sight of the shining black limo made him feel nervous
for the first time.

A
tall, well-built, bald man wearing dark glasses, a dark blue suit, white shirt
and a red, white and blue striped tie was walking towards him. He stopped by
Cavalli’s side as the first of the two outriders and the leading police car
drew in to the kerb.

‘How
are you feeling?’ asked Cavalli.

‘Like
all first nights,’ said Lloyd Adams. ‘I’ll be just fine once the curtain goes
up.’

‘Well,
you sure knew your lines word perfect last night.’

‘My
lines aren’t the problem,’ said Adams. ‘It’s Marshall’s I’m worried about.’

‘What
do you mean?’ asked Cavalli.

‘He’s
not been able to attend any of our rehearsals, has he?’ replied the actor. ‘So
he doesn’t know his cues.’

The
second car drew into line, accompanied by two more outriders, as Al Calabrese
came running across the pavement and Lloyd Adams strode off in the direction of
the trailer.

‘Can
you still do it in eleven minutes?’ asked Cavalli, looking at his watch.

‘As
long as Chief Thomas’s finest don’t foul things up like they do every other
morning,’ said Al. He headed on towards the cars and immediately began to
organise the unfurling of the Presidential flag on the front of the third car
before checking on any specks of dirt that might have appeared on the bodywork
after one trip round the block.

The
staff van drew up in line. Scasiatore immediately swung round on his high stool
and, through a megaphone, told the actor, the secretary, the Lieutenant and the
physician to be ready to climb into the third and fourth cars.

When
the director asked for the Lieutenant and the physician, Cavalli suddenly
realised that he hadn’t seen Dollar Bill or Angelo all morning. Perhaps they’d
been waiting in the trailer.

The
fourth limousine drew up as Cavalli’s eyes swept the horizon, searching for
Angelo.

The
klaxon sounded again for several seconds, this time to warn the film crew that they
had ten minutes left before shooting. The noise almost prevented Cavalli from
hearing his phone ringing.

‘It’s
Andy reporting in, boss. I’m still outside the National Archives. Just to let
you know it’s no busier than when you checked up an hour ago,’

‘At
least someone’s awake,’ said Cavalli.

‘There
can’t be more than twenty or thirty people around at the moment.’

‘Glad
to hear it. But don’t call me again unless something goes wrong.’ Cavalli
flicked off the phone and tried to remember what it was that had been worrying
him before it rang. Eleven vehicles and six outriders were now in place. One
vehicle was still missing. But something else was nagging at the back of
Cavalli’s mind. He became distracted when an officer standing in the middle of
Pennsylvania Avenue began shouting at the top of his voice that he was ready to
stop the traffic whenever the director gave the word. Johnny stood up on his
chair and pointed frantically to the twelfth car, which remained obstinately
stuck in traffic a couple of hundred yards away.

‘If
you divert the traffic now,’ shouted Johnny, ‘that one’s never going to end up
in the motorcade.’

The
officer remained in the middle of the road and waved the traffic through as
fast as he could in the hope of getting the limousine there quicker, but it
didn’t make a lot of difference.

‘Extras
on the street!’ shouted Johnny, and several people who Cavalli had supposed
were members of the public strolled onto the pavement and began walking up and
down professionally.

Johnny
stood up on his chair again and this time turned to face the crowd huddled
behind the barriers. An aide handed him a megaphone so that he could address
them.

‘Ladies
and gentlemen,’ he began. ‘This is a short cut for a movie about the President
going to the Hill to address a joint session of Congress. I’d be grateful if
you could wave, clap and cheer as if it were the real President. Thank you.’
Spontaneous applause broke out, which made Cavalli laugh for the first time
that morning. He hadn’t noticed that the former Deputy Police Chief had crept
up behind him during the director’s address. He whispered in his ear, ‘This is
going to cost you a whole lot of money if you don’t pull it off first time.’

Cavalli
turned to face the ex-policeman and tried not to show how anxious he felt.

‘The
hold-up, I mean. If you don’t get the shoot done this morning, the authorities
aren’t going to let you go through this charade again for one hell of a time.’

‘I
don’t need to be reminded of that,’ snapped Cavalli. He turned his attention back
to Johnny, who had climbed down from his chair and was walking over to take his
seat on the tracking dolly, ready to move as soon as the twelfth vehicle was in
place. Once again, the aide passed Johnny the megaphone. ‘This is a final
check. Check your positions, please. This is a final check. Everyone ready in
car one?’ There was a sharp honk in reply. ‘Car two?’ Another honk. ‘Car
three?’ Another sharp honk from the driver of Lloyd Adams’ car. Cavalli stared
in through the window as the bald actor removed the top of his wig box. ‘Car
four?’ Not a sound came from car four.

‘Is
everyone in car four who should be in car four?’ barked the director.

It
was then that Cavalli remembered what had been nagging at him: he still hadn’t
seen Angelo or Dollar Bill all morning. He should have checked earlier. He
hurried towards the director as a naval Lieutenant jumped out of a car which
he’d left stranded in the middle of the road. He was six foot tall, with
short-cropped hair, wearing a white uniform with a sword swinging by his side
and medals for service in Panama and the Gulf on his chest. In his right hand
he carried a black box. A policeman began chasing after him while Dollar Bill,
carrying a small leather bag, followed a few yards behind at a slower pace. When
Cavalli saw what had happened he changed direction and walked calmly out into
the middle of the road, and the naval officer came to a halt by his side.

‘What
the hell do you think you’re playing at?’ barked Cavalli.

‘We
got held up in the traffic,’ said Angelo lamely.

‘If
this whole operation fails because of you...’

Angelo
turned the colour of his uniform as he thought about what had happened to Bruno
Morelli.

‘And
the sword?’ snapped Cavalli.

‘A
perfect fit.’

‘And
our physician. Is be fit?’

‘He’ll
be able to do his job, I promise you,’ Angelo said, looking over his shoulder.

‘Which
car are you both in?’

‘Number
four. Directly behind the President.’

‘Then
get in, and right now.’

‘Sorry,
sorry,’ Dollar Bill said, as he arrived panting. ‘My fault, not Angelo’s.
Sorry, sorry,’ he repeated as the back door of car four was held open for him
by the Lieutenant, who was gripping his sword. Once Dollar Bill was safely in,
Angelo joined the would-be physician and slammed the door behind him.

The
policeman who’d been chasing Angelo took his notebook out as Cavalli turned
round looking for Tom Newbolt. Tom was already running across the road.

‘Leave
him to me,’ was all he said.

The
second van with surveillance cameras on board screeched to a halt to complete
the line. The front window purred down. ‘Sorry, boss,’ said the driver. ‘Some
jerk just dumped his car right in front of me.’ The clock on the Old Post
Office Tower struck ten. At that moment, on a signal from the co-ordinating
officer, several policemen walked out into the road. Some held up the traffic
coming down Pennsylvania Avenue while others placed diversion signs to direct
the cars away from where the filming was taking place.

Cavalli
turned his attention to the other end of Pennsylvania Avenue, a mere seven
hundred yards away. It was still bumper to bumper with slow-moving traffic.

‘Come
on, come on!’ he shouted out loud as he checked his watch and waited
impatiently for the all clear.

‘Any
moment now,’ shouted back the officer, who was standing in the middle of the
road.

Cavalli
looked up to see the blue-and-white police helicopter hovering noisily
overhead.

Neither
he nor the officer spoke again until a couple of minutes later when they heard
a sharp whistle blow ... three times from the far end of Pennsylvania Avenue.
Cavalli checked his watch. They’d lost six precious minutes.

‘I’ll
kill Angelo,’ he said.’If ...’

‘All
clear!’ shouted the co-ordinating officer. He turned to face Cavalli, who gave
the director a thumbs-up sign.

‘You’ve
still got thirty-nine minutes,’ bellowed the officer. ‘That should easily be
enough time to complete the shoot twice.’ But Cavalli didn’t hear the last few
words as he ran to the second car, pulled open the door and jumped into the
seat next to the driver.

And
then a nagging thought hit him. Looking out of the side window, Cavalli began
to scan the crowd once again.

‘Lights!’
screamed the director, and Pennsylvania Avenue lit up like Christmas Eve at
Macy’s.

‘OK,
everybody, we’re going to shoot in sixty seconds.’ The limousines and
motorcycles switched on their engines and began revving up. The extras strolled
up and down while the police continued to divert commuters away from the scene.
The director leaned back over his chair to check the lights and see if the
seventh in line was working.

‘Thirty
seconds.’ Johnny looked at the driver of the first car and said through the
megaphone, ‘Don’t forget to take it easy. My tracking dolly can only manage ten
miles an hour going backwards. And walkers,’ ~ the director checked up and down
the pavement – ‘please look as if you’re walking, not auditioning for Hamlet.’

The
director turned his attention to the crowd. “Now, don’t let me down behind the
barriers. Clap, cheer iand wave, and please remember we’re going to do the whole
exercise again in about twenty minutes, so stick around if you possibly can.