The Eleventh Commandment

Gutenburg felt his pager buzz, and quickly pulled it off his belt. ‘troy asap’, it read. He flicked it off, and slipped out of the room into the hall. He picked up the nearest phone as if he was in his own home and dialled a number that wasn’t in any directory. It hadn’t even rung before a voice said, ‘The Director.’

‘I got your message, but I’m on a non-secure line.’ He didn’t need to announce who he was.

‘What I have to tell you, everyone in the world will know about in a few hours.’

Gutenburg didn’t speak. It wasted time.

‘Yeltsin died of a heart attack seventeen minutes ago,’ said Helen Dexter. ‘Report to my office immediately, and cancel everything you’re doing for the next forty-eight hours.’ The line went dead. No call from a non-secure line to Dexter’s office ever lasted more than forty-five seconds. She kept a stop-watch on her desk.

Gutenburg replaced the phone and slipped out of the front door without bothering to say goodbye to his hostess. He was being driven down the Parkway on his way back to Langley by the time Chris raised his glass and said, ‘To Connor and Maggie, and whatever the future holds for them.’

All the guests raised their glasses. ‘To Connor and Maggie.’

10

‘I’LL TELL YOU EXACTLY where my information came from,’ said Tom Lawrence. ‘From the President of Colombia himself. He thanked me personally for “the role I played in his election”.’

‘That’s hardly proof,’ Helen Dexter said, showing no sign of emotion.

‘Are you doubting my word?’ The President made no attempt to hide his anger.

‘Certainly not, Mr President,’ said Dexter calmly. ‘But if you’re accusing the Agency of carrying out covert operations without your knowledge, I hope it’s not going to be simply on the word of a South American politician.’

The President leaned forward. ‘I suggest that you listen carefully to a recording of a conversation that took place in this office quite recently,’ he said. ‘Because what you’re about to hear struck me as having a ring of truth about it - something I suspect you haven’t had much exposure to in recent years.’

The Director remained impassive, although Nick Gutenburg, seated on her right, shifted uneasily in his seat. The President nodded in the direction of Andy Lloyd, who reached over and pressed a button on a tape recorder that had been placed on the corner of the President’s desk.

‘Would you care to go into greater detail?’

‘Of course, although I’m sure I can’t tell you anything you don’t already know. My only real rival, Ricardo Guzman, was conveniently removed from the contest just two weeks before the election.’

‘Surely you’re not suggesting …‘ It was Lawrence’s voice.

‘Well, if it wasn’t your people, it certainly wasn’t mine,’ Herrera cut in before the President could finish his sentence.

There followed such a long silence that Gutenburg began to wonder if the conversation had come to an end, but as Lawrence and Lloyd didn’t move, he assumed there was more to follow.

‘Do you have any actual evidence to link the assassination with the CIA?‘ asked Lloyd eventually.

‘The bullet that killed him was traced to a rifle that had been sold to a pawn shop before the assassin fled the country. The rifle was later removed from the shop by one of your operatives and shipped back to America via the diplomatic pouch.’

‘How can you be so sure of that?’

‘My Chief of Police is obviously a lot more forthcoming with me than the CIA are with you.’

Andy Lloyd flicked off the tape recorder. Helen Dexter looked up to find the President’s eyes boring into hers.

‘Well?’ Lawrence asked. ‘What simple explanation do you have this time?’

‘From that conversation there is absolutely no proof of any CIA involvement in Guzman’s assassination,’ she said evenly. ‘All it suggests to me is that Herrera is trying to shield the person who carried out his orders.’

‘I assume you’re referring to the “lone assassin” who has since conveniently disappeared somewhere in South Africa,’ said the President sarcastically.

‘The moment he surfaces, Mr President, we’ll find him, and then I’ll be able to supply the proof you’ve asked for.’

‘An innocent man shot in a back street in Johannesburg will not be enough proof for me,’ said Lawrence.

‘Nor me,’ said Dexter. ‘When I produce the man who was responsible for the assassination, there won’t be any doubt about who he was working for.’ There was a slight edge to her voice.