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  “I don’t think that would have settled anything.”

  “Why not?” asked Annie.

  “I have a feeling this will be the first of many contests between them that will prove nothing until the final showdown.”

  “Perhaps the problem for the voters is that they are so alike it’s impossible to choose between them,” Annie suggested, looking carefully at Su Ling.

  “Perhaps it’s just that there is nothing between them,” said Su Ling, returning her gaze.

  “Yes, my mother often comments on how alike they are whenever they’re both on TV, and the coincidence of their shared blood group has only emphasized that feeling.”

  “As a mathematician I don’t believe in quite so many coincidences,” said Su Ling.

  “It’s interesting that you should say that,” ventured Annie, “because whenever I raise the subject with Fletcher, he simply clams up.”

  “Snap,” said Su Ling.

  “I suspect if we combined our knowledge …”

  “We would only live to regret it.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Annie.

  “Only that if those two have decided not to discuss the subject, even with us, they must have a very good reason.”

  “So you feel we should remain silent as well.”

  Su Ling nodded. “Especially after what my mother’s been put through …”

  “And my mother-in-law would undoubtedly be put through,” suggested Annie. Su Ling smiled and rose from her place. She looked directly at her sister-in-law. “Let’s just hope that they don’t both stand for president, otherwise the truth is bound to come out.”

  Annie nodded her agreement.

  “I’ll go back first,” said Su Ling, “and then no one will ever realize this conversation took place.”

  “Did you manage to get some lunch?” asked Nat.

  Su Ling didn’t have to reply as her husband was distracted by the reappearance of the mayor clutching a piece of paper in his right hand. He looked far more relaxed than when last seen disappearing in the direction of his office. On reaching the center of the room, the mayor gave an immediate order that another recount should commence. The satisfied look on his face was not the result of good food and even better wine; in fact the mayor had forgone lunch to phone the justice department in Washington and seek the advice of the attorney general’s office on how they should proceed in the event of a tie.

  The tellers were, as ever, thorough and meticulous, and forty-one minutes later came up with exactly the same result. A tie.

  The mayor reread the attorney general’s fax, and to everyone’s disbelief, called for a further recount, which, thirty-four minutes later, confirmed the deadlock.

  Once the chief clerk had reported this to his elected representative, the mayor began to make his way toward the stage, having asked both candidates to join him. Fletcher shrugged his shoulders when he caught Nat’s eye. So keen were the onlookers to discover what had been decided that they quickly stood aside to allow the three men to pass, as if Moses had placed his staff on the Madison waters.

  The mayor stepped up onto the platform with the two candidates in close attendance. When he came to a halt in the center of the stage, the candidates took their places on each side of him, Fletcher on his left, Nat on his right, as befitted their political persuasion. The mayor had to wait a few more moments for the microphone to be returned to its original position before he could address an audience that had not diminished in size despite the holdups.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, during the lunch break, I took the opportunity to telephone the justice department in Washington, D.C., to seek their advice as to what procedure we should follow in the event of a tie.” This statement elicited a silence that until that moment had not been achieved since the doors opened at nine o’clock that morning. “And to that end,” the mayor continued, “I have a fax signed by the attorney general confirming the due process of law that must now take place.” Someone coughed, and in the hush that had overcome the assembled gathering it sounded like Vesuvius erupting.

  The mayor paused for a moment before returning to the attorney general’s fax. “If in an election for governor, any one candidate wins the count three times in a row, that candidate shall be deemed to be the winner, however small his or her majority. But should the vote end in a tie for a third time, then the result shall be decided,” he paused, and this time no one coughed, “by the toss of a coin.”

  The tension broke and everyone began speaking at once, as they tried to take in the significance of this revelation, and it was some time before the mayor was able to continue.

  He once again waited for complete silence before producing a silver dollar from his waistcoat pocket. He placed the coin on his upturned thumb before glancing at the two contestants as if seeking their approval. They both nodded.

  One of them called, “Heads,” but then he always called heads.

  The mayor gave a slight bow before spinning the coin high in the air. Every eye followed its ascension, and its even quicker descent, before it finally bounced up and down on the stage, ending up at the mayor’s feet. All three men stared down at the thirty-fifth president, who resolutely returned their gaze.

  The mayor picked up the coin and turned around to face the two candidates. He smiled at the man now standing on his right, and said, “May I be the first to congratulate you, Governor.”

  Two men have made this book possible, and they both wish to remain anonymous. One because he is working on his own autobiography, and the other because he is still a public figure in the United States.

  ALSO BY JEFFREY ARCHER

  NOVELS

  Not a Penny More, Not a Penny Less

  Shall We Tell the President?

  The Prodigal Daughter

  First Among Equals

  A Matter of Honor

  As the Crow Flies

  Honor Among Thieves

  The Fourth Estate

  The Eleventh Commandment

  False Impression

  SHORT STORIES

  A Quiver Full of Arrows

  A Twist in the Tale

  Twelve Red Herrings

  To Cut a Long Story Short

  The Collected Short Stories

  PLAYS

  Beyond Reasonable Doubt

  Exclusive

  The Accused

  SCREENPLAY

  Mallory: Walking off the Map

  PRISON DIARY

  Volume One: Hell

  Volume Two: Purgatory

  Volume Three: Heaven

  PRAISE FOR JEFFREY ARCHER

  “A sprawling blockbuster!”

  —Publishers Weekly on Kane & Abel

  “Archer provides a fine read with keen sense of the good and the bad in people and the importance of kinship … [He] masterfully creates a great villain in Elliot, who jumps off the pages in all of his vengeful and shady glamour.”

  —Los Angeles Times on Sons of Fortune

  “One of the top ten storytellers in the world!”

  —Los Angeles Times

  “There isn’t a better storyteller alive.”

  —Larry King

  “Archer is a master entertainer.”

  —Time

  “Cunning plots, silken style … . Archer plays a cat-and-mouse game with the reader.”

  —The New York Times

  “A storyteller in the class of Alexandre Dumas … unsurpassed skill … making the reader wonder intensely what will happen next.”

  —The Washington Post

  “Archer plots with skill, and keeps you turning the pages.”

  —The Boston Globe

  “A master at mixing power, politics, and profit into fiction.”

  —Entertainment Weekly

  KANE & ABEL Copyright © 1979, 1980 by Jeffrey Archer and SONS OF FORTUNE Copyright © 2003 by Jeffrey Archer. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever