The Eleventh Commandment (1998) (11 page)

‘Is there any alternative?’ he asked.

The Director didn’t hesitate. ‘You could always opt for early retirement.’ She sounded as if she was suggesting the replacement of a sixty-year-old janitor in her apartment building.

Connor sat in silence, unable to believe what he was hearing. He’d given his whole life to the Company, and like so many of its officers, he’d put that life on the line several times.

Helen Dexter rose from her place. ‘Perhaps you’d let me know when you’ve reached a decision.’ She left the room without another word.

Connor sat alone at his desk for some time, trying to take in the full implications of the Director’s words. He recalled that Chris Jackson had told him of an almost identical conversation he had had with her eight months before. In his case, the position he’d been offered was in Milwaukee. ‘It could never happen to me,’ he remembered telling Chris at the time. ‘After all, I’m a team player, and no one would suspect me of wanting her job.’ But Connor had committed an even graver sin. By carrying out Dexter’s orders, he had unwittingly become the cause of her possible downfall. If he were no longer around to embarrass her, she might survive yet again. How many other good officers had been sacrificed over the years, he wondered, on the altar of her ego?

Connor’s thoughts were interrupted when Joan entered the room. She didn’t need to be told that the meeting had gone badly.

‘Anything I can do?’ she asked quietly.

‘No, not a thing, thanks, Joan.’ After a short silence he added, ‘You know I’m due to come off the active list soon.’

‘On the first of January,’ she said. ‘But with your record, the Company’s certain to offer you a large desk, civilised hours for a change, and perhaps a long-legged secretary thrown in.’

‘It seems not,’ said Connor. ‘The only job the Director had in mind for me was to head up the office in Cleveland, and there certainly wasn’t any mention of a long-legged secretary.’

‘Cleveland?’ repeated Joan incredulously.

Connor nodded.

‘The bitch.’

Connor glanced up at his long-serving secretary, unable to hide a look of surprise. This was the strongest language he had heard her use about anyone in nineteen years, let alone the Director.

Joan looked him in the eye and said, ‘What will you tell Maggie?’

‘I don’t know. But as I’ve been deceiving her for the past twenty-eight years, I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with something.’

As Chris Jackson opened the front door, a bell rang to warn the shopkeeper that someone had entered the premises.

There are more than a hundred pawn shops in Bogota, most of them in the San Victorina district. Jackson hadn’t done so much footwork since he had been a junior agent. He even began to wonder if his old friend the Chief of Police had sent him off on a wild goose chase. But he kept going, because he knew that this particular policeman always made sure there would be another envelope stuffed full of notes at some time in the future.

Escobar looked up from behind his evening paper. The old man reckoned that he could always tell, even before a customer had reached the counter, if he was a buyer or a seller. The look in their eyes, the cut of their clothes, even the way they walked towards him. It took only a glance at this particular gentleman to make him feel pleased that he hadn’t closed early.

‘Good evening, sir,’ Escobar said, rising from his stool. He always added ‘sir’ when he thought it was a buyer. ‘How may I assist you?’

‘The gun in the window …’

‘Ah, yes. I see that you are most discerning. It is indeed a collector’s item.’ Escobar lifted the counter lid and walked across to the window. He removed the case, placed it on the counter, and allowed his customer to have a closer look at its contents.

Jackson only needed a cursory glance at the handcrafted rifle to know its provenance. He wasn’t surprised to find that one of the cartridges had been fired.

‘How much are you asking for it?’

‘Ten thousand dollars,’ replied Escobar, having identified the American accent. ‘I cannot let it go for any less. I have already received so many enquiries.’

After three days of traipsing round the hot and humid city, Jackson was in no mood to bargain. But he didn’t have that amount of cash on him, and he couldn’t just write out a cheque or present a credit card.

‘Can I leave a down-payment,’ he asked, ‘and pick it up first thing in the morning?’

‘Certainly, sir,’ said Escobar. ‘Although for this particular item, I would require a 10 per cent deposit.’

Jackson nodded, and removed a wallet from his inside pocket. He extracted some used notes and passed them across the counter.

The shopkeeper counted the ten hundred-dollar bills slowly, then placed them in the cash register and wrote out a receipt.

Jackson looked down at the open case, smiled, removed the spent cartridge and put it in his pocket.

The old man was puzzled, not by Jackson’s action, but because he could have sworn that all twelve bullets had been in place when he had bought the rifle.

‘I’d pack up everything and join you tomorrow,’ she said, ‘if it weren’t for my parents.’

‘I’m sure they’d understand,’ said Stuart.

‘Maybe,’ said Tara. ‘But it wouldn’t stop me feeling guilty about all the sacrifices my father’s made over the years so I could finish my PhD. Not to mention my mother. She’d probably have a heart attack.’

‘But you said you’d find out if your Faculty Advisor would allow you to finish off your doctorate in Sydney.’

‘My Faculty Advisor isn’t the problem,’ said Tara. ‘It’s the Dean.’

‘The Dean?’

‘Yes. When my Faculty Advisor discussed the idea with him yesterday, he told her it was out of the question.’ There was a long silence before Tara said, Are you still there, Stuart?’

‘Sure am,’ he said, followed by a sigh that would have done credit to a Shakespearean lover.

‘It’s only another eight months,’ Tara reminded him. ‘In fact I can even tell you how many days. And don’t forget, you’ll be over here for Christmas.’

‘I’m looking forward to that,’ said Stuart. ‘I only hope your parents don’t feel I’m imposing on them. After all, they won’t have seen you for some time.’

‘Don’t be silly. They were delighted when I told them you’d be joining us. Mom adores you, as you well know, and you’re the first man Dad has ever had a good word for.’

‘He’s a remarkable man.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I suspect you know exactly what I mean.’

‘I’d better hang up, or Dad will need a raise just to cover my phone bills. By the way, it’s your turn next time.’

Stuart pretended he hadn’t noticed how suddenly Tara had changed the subject.

‘It always seems strange to me,’ she continued, ‘that you’re still at work while I’m fast asleep.’

‘Well, I can think of one way of changing that,’ said Stuart.

When he opened the door, the alarm went off. A carriage clock in the outer office struck twice as he swept aside the bead curtain and stepped into the shop. He stared across at the stand in the window. The rifle was no longer in its place.

It took him several minutes to find it, hidden under the counter.

He checked each item, and noted that one cartridge was missing, placed the case under his arm and left as quickly as he had entered. Not that he had any anxiety about being caught: the Chief of Police had assured him that the break-in would not be reported for at least thirty minutes. He glanced at the carriage clock before closing the door behind him. It was twelve minutes past two.

The Chief of Police could hardly be blamed if his old friend didn’t have enough cash on him to buy the rifle. And in any case, he did so like being paid twice for the same piece of information. Especially when the currency was dollars.

She poured him a second cup of coffee.

‘Maggie, I’m considering resigning from the company and looking for a job that means I don’t have to travel so much.’ He glanced across the kitchen table and waited to see how his wife would react.

Maggie replaced the coffee pot on the warmer and took a sip from her own cup before she spoke. ‘Why now?’ she asked simply.

‘The Chairman has told me I’m to be taken off kidnap and ransom and replaced by a younger man. It’s company policy at my age.’

‘But there must be plenty of other jobs in the company for someone with your experience.’

‘The Chairman did come up with a suggestion,’ said Connor. ‘She offered me the chance to head up our field office in Cleveland.’

‘Cleveland?’ said Maggie in disbelief. She remained silent for some time, then said quietly, ‘Why is the Chairman suddenly so keen to see the back of you?’

‘Oh, it’s not that bad. After all, if I turn the offer down, I’m still eligible for a full retirement package,’ said Connor, making no attempt to answer her question. ‘In any case, Joan assures me there are several large insurance companies in Washington who would be only too happy to employ someone with my experience.’

‘But not the one you’re currently working for,’ said Maggie, still looking directly at her husband. Connor met her eyes, but couldn’t think of a convincing reply. There followed an even longer silence.

‘Don’t you think the time has come to tell me the whole truth,’ said Maggie. ‘Or am I simply expected to go on believing every word you say, like a dutiful wife?’

Connor lowered his head and remained silent.