The Eleventh Commandment Read online

  Jackson looked towards the press enclosure. He could see that the journalists were far more interested in the disappearing police car than in Zerimski’s frequently repeated words.

  ‘Mafya hitman,’ the Turkish journalist was informing a colleague - a ‘fact’ that she had picked up from someone in the crowd, whom she would later quote as ‘an authoritative source’.

  Mitchell was looking up at a row of television cameramen who were following the progress of the police car as it disappeared out of sight, its blue lamp flashing. His eyes settled on the one person he needed to speak to. He waited patiently for Clifford Symonds to look in his direction, and when he eventually did, Mitchell waved his arms to indicate that he needed to speak to him urgently. The CNN reporter quickly joined the American Cultural Attache among the cheering throng.

  Zerimski remained in the centre of the platform, soaking up the adulation of the crowd. He had no intention of leaving while they were still howling their approval.

  Symonds listened carefully to what Mitchell had to tell him. He was due on air in twelve minutes. The smile on his face became broader by the second.

  ‘Are you absolutely certain?’ he asked, when Mitchell had finished speaking.

  ‘Have I ever let you down in the past?’ Mitchell asked, trying to sound offended.

  ‘No,’ said Symonds apologetically. ‘You never have.’

  ‘But you must keep this piece of information a million miles away from the Embassy.’

  ‘Of course. But who shall I say is my source?’

  ‘A resourceful and diligent police force. That’s the last thing the Chief of Police is going to deny.’

  Symonds laughed. ‘I’d better get back to my producer if I’m going to lead on this for the morning newscast.’

  ‘OK,’ said Mitchell. ‘Just remember - make sure it can’t be traced back to me.’

  ‘Have I ever let you down in the past?’ retorted Symonds. He turned and dashed back towards the press enclosure.

  Mitchell slipped away in the opposite direction. There was still one more receptive ear in which he needed to plant the story, and it would have to be done before Zerimski left the stage.

  A protective line of bodyguards was barring any over-enthusiastic supporters from getting near the candidate. Mitchell could see his press secretary only a few yards away, basking in the cheers his leader was receiving.

  Mitchell told one of the guards in perfect Russian who he needed to speak to. The thug turned around and shouted at the press secretary. If Zerimski was elected, thought Mitchell, it wasn’t exactly going to be a subtle administration. The press secretary made an immediate sign to let the American through, and he entered the cordoned-off area and joined another of his chess partners. He briefed him quickly, telling him that de Villiers had been disguised as an old man, and which hotel he’d been seen leaving just before he’d entered the restaurant.

  By the end of the day, it would have dawned on Fitzgerald and Jackson that they had both been dealing with a real professional.

  17

  THE PRESIDENT and his Chief of Staff sat alone in the Oval Office, watching the early-morning news. Neither of them spoke as Clifford Symonds presented his report.

  ‘An international terrorist was arrested in Freedom Square this afternoon during a speech given by the Communist leader Victor Zerimski. The as-yet unnamed man is being held in the notorious Crucifix Prison in the centre of St Petersburg. The local police are not ruling out the possibility that this may be the same man who was recently linked with the assassination of Ricardo Guzman, a presidential candidate in Colombia. The man who police have arrested is thought to have been following Zerimski for several days while he was campaigning around the country. Only last week he was described in Time magazine as the most expensive hired gun in the west. He is thought to have been offered a million dollars by the Russian Mafya to remove Zerimski from the presidential race. When the police tried to arrest him, it took four of them just to hold him down.’

  Some footage followed of a man being arrested in the crowd and hustled away, but the best shot they had managed was the back of a head covered in a fur hat. Symonds’ face reappeared on the screen.

  ‘The Communist candidate continued to deliver his speech, although the arrest took place only a few yards in front of the platform. Zerimski later praised the St Petersburg police for their diligence and professionalism, and vowed that however many attempts were made on his life, nothing would deter him from his fight against organised crime. Zerimski is currently running neck and neck with Prime Minister Chernopov in the opinion polls, but many observers feel that today’s incident will give a boost to his popularity in the final run-up to the election.

  ‘A few hours before Zerimski addressed the rally, he held a private meeting with General Borodin at his headquarters on the north side of the city. No one knows the outcome of those talks, but the General’s spokesmen are not denying that he will soon be making a statement about whether he intends to continue his campaign for President, and perhaps more importantly, which of the two remaining candidates he would pledge to support were he to withdraw. The election has suddenly been thrown wide open. This is Clifford Symonds, CNN International, in Freedom Square, St Petersburg.’

  ‘On Monday the Senate will continue to debate the Nuclear, Biological, Chemical and Conventional Arms Reduction …’

  The President pressed a button on his remote control, and the screen went blank.

  ‘And you’re telling me that the man they’ve arrested has no connection with the Russian Mafya, but is a CIA agent?’

  ‘Yes. I’m waiting for Jackson to call in and confirm that it’s the same man who killed Guzman.’

  ‘What do I say to the press if they question me about this?’

  ‘You’ll have to bluff, because we don’t need anyone to know that the man they’re holding is one of ours.’

  ‘But it would finish off Dexter and her little shit of a Deputy once and for all.’

  ‘Not if you claimed you knew nothing about it, because then half the population would dismiss you as a CIA dupe. But if you admit you did know, the other half would want you impeached. So for now I suggest you confine yourself to saying that you are awaiting the result of the Russian elections with interest.’

  ‘You bet I am,’ said Lawrence. ‘The last thing I need is for that evil little fascist Zerimski to become President. We’d be back to Star Wars overnight.’

  ‘I expect that’s exactly why the Senate is holding out on your Arms Reduction Bill. They won’t want to make a final decision until they know the outcome of the election.’

  Lawrence nodded. ‘If it’s one of ours they’ve got holed up in that goddamn jail, we’ve got to do something about it, and quickly. Because if Zerimski does become President, then God help him. I certainly wouldn’t be able to.’

  Connor didn’t speak. He was wedged between two officers in the back of the police car. He knew these young men had neither the rank nor the authority to question him. That would come later, and from someone with a lot more braid on his lapel.

  As they drove through the vast wooden gates of the Crucifix prison and into a cobbled yard, the first thing Connor saw was the reception party. Three massive men in prisoners’ garb stepped forward, almost pulled the car’s back door off its hinges and dragged him out. The young policemen who had been sitting on either side of him looked terrified.

  The three thugs quickly bundled the new prisoner across the yard and into a long, bleak corridor. That was when the kicking and punching began. Connor would have protested, but their vocabulary seemed to consist only of grunts. When they reached the far end of the corridor, one of them pulled open a heavy steel door and the other two threw him into a tiny cell. He made no effort to struggle when they removed first his shoes, then his watch, wedding ring and wallet - from which they would learn nothing. They left, slamming the cell door closed behind them.

  Connor rose slowly to his feet and warily stretched