Tell Tale: Short Stories

“Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty of murder?”

The foreman rose.

“Guilty,” said Albert.

FOREWORD TO HEADS YOU WIN

Dear Reader,

It was fun compiling these fourteen short stories after the challenge of writing seven volumes of the Clifton Chronicles.

What I hadn’t anticipated would happen during that time is that I would come up with an idea for a stand-alone novel every bit as demanding and exciting as anything I have ever written in the past.

For those of you who have already read the final volume of the Chronicles, This Was a Man, none of this will come as a surprise because Harry Clifton outlined the plot for you in the last chapter of that book.

However, I thought I’d go one step further than Harry, and share with you the first four chapters of Heads You Win, which will be published in November 2018.

I hope you enjoy it.

Jeffrey Archer

November 2017

1

“WHAT ARE YOU going to do when you leave school?” asked Alexander.

“I’m hoping to join the KGB,” Vladimir replied, “but they won’t even consider me if I don’t get a place at the state university. How about you?”

“I intend to be the first democratically elected president of Russia,” said Alexander laughing.

“And if you make it,” said Vladimir who didn’t laugh, “you can appoint me as head of the KGB.”

“I don’t believe in nepotism,” said Alexander, as they strolled across the schoolyard and out onto the street.

“Nepotism?” said Vladimir, as they began to walk home.

“It derives from the Italian word for nephew, and dates back to the popes of the seventeenth century, who often handed out patronage to their relations and close friends.”

“Sounds just like the Soviet Union to me,” said Vladimir. “You just exchange the popes for the KGB.”

“Are you going to the match on Saturday?” asked Alexander, changing the subject.

“No. Once Leningrad reached the semifinals, there was never any chance of someone like me getting a ticket. But surely as your father’s the dock’s superintendent, you’ll automatically get a couple of seats in the reserved stand for party members.”

“Not while he still refuses to join the Communist Party,” said Alexander. “And when I last asked him, he didn’t sound at all optimistic about getting a ticket, so Uncle Niko is my only hope.”

As they continued walking, Alexander realized they were both avoiding the one subject that was never far from their minds.

“When do you think we’ll find out?”

“I’ve no idea,” said Alexander. “I suspect the teachers enjoy watching us suffering, well aware it will be the last time they have any power over us.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” said Vladimir. “The only discussion in your case is whether you’ll win the Lenin Scholarship to the foreign language school in Moscow, or be offered a place at the state university to study mathematics. Whereas I can’t even be sure of getting into any university, and if I don’t, my chances of joining the KGB are kaput.” He sighed. “I’ll probably end up working on the docks for the rest of my life, with your father as my boss.”

Alexander didn’t offer an opinion as the two of them entered the tenement block where they lived, and began to climb the worn stone steps to their flats.

“I wish I lived on the first floor, and not the fourteenth.”