Honour Among Thieves

Archivist. Marshall led the way back into the corridor, followed by the actor and his entourage. 'The Declaration can normally be seen by the public in the rotunda on the ground floor, but we shall view it in the vault where it is stored at night.' When they reached the end of the corridor the Archivist led the President down a flight of stairs while Cavalli kept checking over the route that would allow them the swiftest exit if any trouble arose. He was delighted to find that the Archivist had followed his instructions and kept the corridors clear of any staff. At the bottom of the steps, they came to a halt outside a vast steel door at which an elderly man in a long white coat stood waiting. His eyes lit up when he saw the actor. 'This is Mr Mendelssohn,' said Marshall. 'Mr Mendelssohn is the Senior Conservator and, I confess, the real expert on anything to do with the parchment. He will be your guide for the next few minutes before we visit the rest of the building.' The actor stepped forward, and once again thrust out his hand. 'Good to meet you, Mr Mendelssohn.' The elderly man bowed, shook the actor's hand, and pushed the steel door open. 'Please follow me, Mr President,' he said in a mid-European accent. Once inside the tiny vault, Cavalli watched his men spread out in a small circle, their eyes checking everything except the President. Bill O'Reilly, Angelo and Debbie also took their places as they had rehearsed the previous evening. Cavalli quickly glanced at Dollar Bill, who looked as if it was he who might be in need of a physician. Mendelssohn guided the actor towards a massive block of concrete that took up a large area of the far wall. He patted the slab of concrete and explained that the protective shell had been built at a time when the nation's greatest fear had been a nuclear attack. 'The Declaration is covered in five tons of interlocking leaves of metal, embedded in the fifty-five-ton

concrete and steel vault you see before you. I can assure you, Mr President,' Mendelssohn added, 'if Washington was razed to the ground, the Declaration of Independence would still be in one piece.' 'Impressive,' said Adams, 'most impressive.' Cavalli checked his watch; it was 10.24, and they'd already been inside the building for seventeen minutes. Although the limousines were waiting, he had no choice but to allow the Conservator to carry on at his own pace. After all, their hosts were aware of the limitations on the President's time if they were still hoping to show him round the rest of the building. 'The entire system, Mr President,' continued the Conservator enthusiastically, 'is worked electronically. At the press of a button, the Declaration, which is always exhibited and stored in an upright position, travels up from this level through interlocking doors which open before the document finally comes to rest in a case of solid bronze, protected by ballistically tested glass and plastic laminate. Ultra-violet filters in the laminate give the inner layer a slightly greenish hue.' The actor looked lost, but Mr Mendelssohn continued, quite unconcerned. 'We are presently standing some twenty-two feet below the exhibit hall, and as the mechanics can be worked manually, I am able to stop the machinery at any time. With your permission, Mr Marshall.' The Archivist nodded, and the Conservator touched a button that neither the actor nor Cavalli had spotted until that moment. The five-ton leaves began to slide apart above their heads, and a sudden whirling and clanking sounded as the massive brass frame that housed the parchment began its daily journey towards the ceiling. When the frame had reached desk height, Mr Mendelssohn pressed a second button, and the whirling sound instantly ceased. He then raised an open palm in the direction of the casing. Lloyd Adams took a pace forward and stared across at the nation's most important historic document. 'Now, remembering your personal wish, Mr President, we in turn have a small request of you.' The actor seemed uncertain what his lines were meant to be, and glanced towards Cavalli in the wings. 'And what might that request be?' prompted Cavalli, apprehensive of any change of plan at this late stage. 'Simply,' said Mr Mendelssohn, 'that while the Archivist and I are removing the outer casing of the Declaration, your men will be kind enough to turn and face the wall.' Cavalli hesitated, aware that the Secret Service would never allow a situation to arise where they could not