Honour Among Thieves

front of every freelance journalist looking for a story.' Butterworth mumbled an apology as they stepped into the elevator and Cavalli pressed button eleven. Neither of them spoke again until they were safely inside 1137, the room in which Cavalli had spent the previous night. Cavalli looked more carefully at Rex Butterworth now they were alone. He was sweating as if he had just finished a five-mile jog, not travelled up eleven floors in an elevator. 'Calm down,' said Cavalli. 'You've played your part well so far. Only one more phone call and you're through. You'll be on your flight to Rio before the first outrider even reaches the National Archives. Now, are you clear about what you have to say to Marshall?' Butterworth took out some handwritten notes, mouthed a few words and said, 'Yes, I'm clear and I'm ready.' He was shaking like a jelly. Cavalli dialled the private number of the Archivist's office half a mile away, and when he heard the first ring, passed the receiver over to Butterworth. They both listened to the continuing ringing. Eventually Cavalli put his hand out to take back the receiver. They would have to try again in a few minutes' time. Suddenly there was a click and a voice said, 'Calder Marshall speaking.' Cavalli went into the bathroom and picked up the extension. 'Good morning, Mr Marshall. It's Rex Butterworth at the White House, just checking everything's all set up and ready your end.' 'It certainly is, Mr Butterworth. Every member of my staff has been instructed to be at their desks by nine o'clock sharp. In fact, I've seen most of them already, but only my deputy and the Senior Conservator know the real reason I've asked them all not to be late this morning.' 'Well done,' said Butterworth. 'The President is running on time and we anticipate he will be with you around ten, but I'm afraid he still has to be back at the White House by eleven.' 'By eleven, of course,' said the Archivist. 'I only hope we can get him round the whole building in fifty minutes, because I expect there are many of my staff who would like to meet him.' 'We'll just have to hope that fifty minutes is enough time to fit them all in,' said Butterworth. 'Can I assume that there are still no problems with the President's personal request?' 'None that I'm aware of,' said Marshall. 'The Conservator is quite happy to remove the glass so that the President can study the parchment in its original form. We'll keep the Declaration in the vault until the President has left the building. I hope to have the document back on view to the general public a few minutes after he departs.' 'It sounds to me as if you have everything under control, Mr Marshall,' said Butterworth, the sweat pouring off his forehead. 'I'm just off to see the President, so I'm afraid I'll be out of contact for the rest of the morning, but let's talk again this afternoon and you can tell me how it all went.' 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 annual leave, 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