Honour Among Thieves

in France, so the least we need to know is when she's expected back in Israel. And that's where you come in.' 'But we must have a man in Paris already.' 'Several, actually, but every one of them is known by Mossad at a hundred paces, and, I suspect, even by the Iraqis at ten. So, if Hannah Kopec is in Paris without the Mossad sleeper knowing, I'd like you to be in Paris without our people knowing. That is, if you feel you can spare the time away from Susan Anderson.' 'She broke away from me the day her boyfriend returned from his conference. I don't know what it is I do to women. She called me last week to tell me they're getting married next month.' 'All the more reason for you to go to Paris.' 'On a wild goose chase.' 'This goose may just be about to lay us a golden egg, and in any case, I don't want to read about another brilliant Israeli coup on the front page of the New York Times and then have to explain to the President why the CIA knew nothing about it.' 'But where would I even start?' 'In your own time, you try to make contact with her. Tell her you're the Mossad agent in Paris.' 'But she would never believe -' 'Why not? She doesn't know who the agent is, only hat there is one. Scott, I need to know -' The door swung open and Dexter Jr came in. 'How did it go?' asked his father. The young man walked across the room and slumped into an armchair, but did not utter a word. That bad, eh son?' 'Mr Marshall, how nice to meet you,' said Butterworth, thrusting out his hand to greet the Archivist of the United States. 'It's nice to meet you, too, Mr Butterworth,' Calder Marshall replied nervously. 'Good of you to find the time to come over,' said Butterworth. 'Do have a seat.' Butterworth had booked the Roosevelt Room in the West Wing for their meeting. It had taken a lot of persuading of a particularly officious secretary who knew Mr Butterworth's station in life only too well. She reluctantly agreed to release the room for thirty minutes, and then only because he was seeing the Archivist of the United States. She also agreed to his second request, as the President would be out of town that day. The Special Assistant had placed himself at the top of a table that usually seated twenty-four, and beckoned Mr Marshall to be seated on his right, facing Tade Stykal's portrait of Theodore Roosevelt on Horseback. The Archivist must have been a shade over six foot, and as thin as most women half his age would have liked to be. He was almost bald except for a semicircle of grey tufts around the base of his skull. He wore an ill-fitting suit that looked as if it normally experienced outings only on a Sunday morning. From his file, Butterworth knew the Archivist was younger than himself, but he vainly felt that if they had been seen together, no one would have believed it. He must have been born middle-aged, thought Butterworth, but the Special Assistant had no such disparaging thoughts about the quality of the man's mind. After a magna cum laude at Duke University, Marshall had written a book on the history of the Bill of Rights that was now considered to be the standard text for every undergraduate studying American history. It had made him a small fortune - not that one could have guessed it by the way he dressed, thought Butterworth. On the table in front of him was a file stamped 'Confidential', and above that the name 'Calder Marshall' in bold letters. Despite the fact that the Archivist was wearing horn-rimmed glasses with thick lenses, Butterworth felt he could hardly have missed it. Butterworth paused before he began a speech he'd prepared every bit as assiduously as the President had his inauguration address. Marshall sat, fingers intertwined, nervously waiting for Butterworth to proceed. 'You have, over the past sixteen years,' began the Special Assistant, 'made several requests for the President to visit the National Archives.' Butterworth was pleased to observe that Marshall was looking hopeful. 'And, indeed, this particular President wishes to accept your invitation.' Mr Marshall's smile broadened. 'To that end, in our weekly meeting, President Clinton asked me to convey a private message to you, which he hoped you would understand must be in the strictest confidence.' 'In the strictest confidence. Of course.' 'The President felt sure he could rely on your discretion, Mr Marshall. So, I feel I can let you know that we're trying to clear some time during the last week of this month for him to visit the Archives,