Honour Among Thieves

Five of them signed Geo, which was the custom of the time. Only George Wythe of Virginia appended his full name. On the copy I presented to Cavalli I made the mistake of also writing Geo for Congressman Wythe, and had to add the letters rge later. Although the lettering is perfect, I used a slightly lighter shade of ink. A simple mistake, and discernible only to an expert eye.' 'And even then, only if they knew what they were looking for,' added Mendelssohn. 'I never bothered to tell Cavalli,' continued Dollar Bill, 'because once he had checked the word "Brittish" he seemed quite satisfied.' 'So, at some time Cavalli must have switched his copy with the original, and then passed it on to Al Obaydi?' said Dexter Hutchins. 'Well done, Deputy Director,' said Dollar Bill. 'And Al Obaydi in turn handed the copy on to the Iraqi Ambassador in Geneva, who had it delivered to Saddam in Iraq. And, as Al Obaydi had seen Dollar Bill's copy on display at the National Archives with "British" spelt correctly, he was convinced he was in possession of the original,' said Dexter Hutchins. 'You've finally caught up with the rest of us,' said Dollar Bill. 'Though to be fair, sir, I should have known what Cavalli was capable of doing when I said to you a month ago: "Is there no longer honour among thieves?"' 'So, where is the original now?' demanded the President. 'I suspect it's hanging on a wall in a brownstone house in Manhattan,' said Dollar Bill, 'where it must have been for the past ten weeks.' The light on the telephone console to the right of the President began flashing. The President's Chief of Staff picked up an extension and listened. The normally unflappable man turned white. He pushed the hold button. 'It's Bernie Shaw at CNN for me, Mr President. He says Saddam is claiming that the bombing of Baghdad last weekend was nothing more than a smokescreen set up to give a group of American terrorists the chance to retrieve the Declaration of Independence, which a Mafia gang had tried to sell him and which he personally returned to a man called Bradley. Saddam's apparently most apologetic about the state the Declaration is in, but he has television pictures of Bradley spitting and stamping on it and nailing it to a wall. If you don't believe him, Saddam says you can check the copy of the Declaration that's on display at the National Archives, because anyone who can spell "British" will realise it's a fake. Shaw's asking if you have any comment to make, as Saddam intends to hold a press conference tomorrow morning to let the whole world know the truth.' The President pursed his lips. 'My bet is that Saddam has given CNN an exclusive on this story, but probably only until tomorrow,' the Chief of Staff added. 'Whatever you do,' said Hutchins, 'try to keep it off the air for tonight.' The Chief of Staff hesitated for a moment until he saw the President nodding his agreement. He pressed the button to re-engage the call. 'If you want to go on the air with a story like that, Bernie, it's your reputation on the line, not mine.' The Chief of Staff listened carefully to Shaw's reply while everyone else in the room waited in silence. 'Be my guest,' were the last words the Chief of Staff offered before putting the phone down. He turned to the President and told him: 'Shaw says he will have a crew outside the National Archives the moment the doors open at ten tomorrow morning, and, I quote: if the word "British" is spelt correctly, he'll crucify you.' The President glanced up at the carriage clock that stood on the mantelpiece below the portrait of Abraham Lincoln. It was a few minutes after seven. He swivelled his chair round to face the Deputy Director of the CIA. 'Mr Hutchins,' he said, 'you've got fifteen hours to stop me being crucified. Should you fail, I can assure you there won't be a second coming for me in three years, let alone three days.' THE LEAK STARTED in the early morning of Sunday July 4th, in the basement of number 21, the home of the Prestons, who were on vacation in Malibu. When their Mexican housekeeper answered the door a few minutes after midnight, she assumed the worst. An illegal immigrant with no Green Card lives in daily fear of a visit from any government official. The housekeeper was relieved to discover that these particular officials were only from the gas company. Without much prompting, she agreed to accompany them down to the basement of the brownstone and show them where the gas meters were located. Once