Honor Among Thieves

Cavalli placed the phone on the side of the bath and bolted back into the bedroom, coming to a halt in front of the President’s Special Assistant. Butterworth looked terrified. Cavalli shook his head frantically from side to side.

“Actually, now that I look at my schedule, Mr. Marshall, I see you won’t be able to reach me again today because I promised my wife I’d leave the office a little earlier than usual to prepare for our annual vacation which begins tomorrow.”

“Oh. Where are you going?” asked Marshall, innocently.

“Off to see my mother in Charleston. But I feel confident that the President’s visit to the Archives will be a great success. Why don’t we get together as soon as I’m back?”

“I would enjoy that,” said Marshall. “And I do hope you have a pleasant break in South Carolina; the azaleas should still be blooming.”

“Yes, I suppose they will,” said Butterworth as he watched Cavalli pulling a finger across his throat. “My other line is ringing,” he added, and without another word put the phone down.

“You said too much, you fool. We don’t ever want him trying to contact you again.”

Butterworth looked apprehensive.

“How long will it be before the White House wonders where you are?” asked Cavalli.

“At least a week,” replied Butterworth. “I really am due for my vacation, and even my boss thinks I’m going to Charleston.”

“Well, that’s something you did right,” said Cavalli, as he handed Butterworth a one-way ticket to Rio de Janeiro and a letter of confirmation that the sum of nine hundred thousand dollars had been deposited in the Banco do Brazil.

“I have to get back to the set,” said Cavalli. “You stay put for ten minutes and then take a taxi to Dulles Airport. And when you get to Brazil, don’t spend all the money on a girl. And Rex, don’t even think about coming back. If you do, it won’t just be the Feds who are waiting for you at the airport.”

Angelo had somehow managed to get Dollar Bill dressed, but he still stank of Guinness, and he certainly didn’t look like the President’s personal physician—or anybody else’s physician for that matter.

“Sorry, lad. Sorry, lad,” Dollar Bill kept repeating. “I hope this won’t get you into any trouble.”

“It will if you don’t sober up in time to play your part and see that the parchment is transferred into the special cylinder. Because if Cavalli ever finds out I wasn’t with you last night, you’re dead, and more important, so am I.”

“Settle down, lad, and just make me a Bloody Mary. Two parts tomato juice and one part vodka. I’ll be as right as rain in no time, you’ll see.” Angelo looked doubtful as the little man’s head fell back on the pillow.

* * *

As Cavalli closed the door of room 1137, a woman pushing a large laundry basket passed him in the corridor.

He took the elevator to the ground floor and walked straight out of the hotel. The first thing he saw as he left the Willard and crossed the plaza that divided the hotel from Pennsylvania Avenue was that the morning traffic was backed up for half a mile down 15th Street.

Al and Johnny came running towards him from different directions. “What’s going on?” were Cavalli’s first words.

“Normal morning traffic coming in from Virginia, the police assure us, except we’re blocking a lane and a half with our twelve vehicles and six outriders.”

“Damn, my mistake,” said Cavalli. “I should have anticipated it. So what do you suggest, Al?”

“I send my boys over to Atlantic Garage on 13th and F until the police get the traffic on the move again, and then bring them back nearer the starting time.”

“It’s a hell of a risk,” said Johnny. “That permit only allows me to film for forty-five minutes, and they aren’t going to stretch it by a second.”

“Bu

t 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 nine-fifty.” 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, pointing.

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