The Eleventh Commandment Read online

‘This is your captain speaking. We have been cleared to land at Dulles International Airport. Would the cabin crew please prepare for landing. On behalf of United Airlines, I’d like to welcome you to the United States.’

  Connor flicked open his passport. Christopher Andrew Jackson was back on his home soil.

  25

  MAGGIE ARRIVED AT Dulles Airport an hour early - a habit which used to drive Connor mad. She checked the arrivals screen, and was pleased to see that the flight from San Francisco was scheduled to land on time.

  She picked up a copy of the Washington Post from the newsstand and wandered into the nearest coffee shop, perched herself on a stool at the counter and ordered a black coffee and a croissant. She didn’t notice the two men occupying a table in the opposite corner, one of whom also had a copy of the Washington Post which he appeared to be reading. But however hard she’d looked, she wouldn’t have seen the third man who was taking more interest in her than in the arrivals screen he was looking up at. He had already spotted the other two men in the corner.

  Maggie read the Post from cover to cover, checking her watch every few minutes. By the time she had ordered her second coffee, she was delving into the supplement on Russia published in anticipation of President Zerimski’s forthcoming visit to Washington. Maggie didn’t like the sound of the Communist leader, who seemed to belong in the last century.

  She had downed her third coffee twenty minutes before the plane was scheduled to land, so she slipped off the stool and headed for the nearest bank of phones. Two men followed her out of the restaurant, while a third slipped from one shadow into another.

  She dialled a cellphone number. ‘Good morning, Jackie,’ she said when her deputy answered. ‘I’m just checking to see if everything’s OK.’

  ‘Maggie,’ said a voice trying not to sound too exasperated, ‘it’s seven o’clock in the morning, and I’m still in bed. You called yesterday, remember? The university is in recess, no one is due back until the fourteenth of January, and after three years of being your deputy, I am just about capable of running the office in your absence.’

  ‘Sorry, Jackie,’ said Maggie. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you. I forgot how early it was. I promise not to bother you again.’

  ‘I hope Connor gets back soon, and that Tara and Stuart keep you fully occupied for the next few weeks,’ said Jackie. ‘Have a good Christmas, and I don’t want to hear from you again before the end of January,’ she added with feeling.

  Maggie put the phone down, realising she had only been killing time, and shouldn’t have bothered Jackie in the first place. She chastised herself, and decided she wouldn’t call her again until the New Year.

  She walked slowly over to the arrivals gate and joined the growing number of people peering through the windows at the runway, where early-morning flights were taking off and landing. Three men who weren’t checking the insignia of every aircraft that arrived continued to watch Maggie as she waited for the board to confirm that United’s Flight 50 from San Francisco had landed. When the message finally appeared, she smiled. One of the three men punched eleven numbers into his cellphone, and passed the information back to his superior at Langley.

  Maggie smiled again when a man wearing a 49ers cap emerged from the jetway - the first passenger off the ‘red-eye’. She had to wait for another ten minutes before Tara and Stuart came through the door. She had never seen her daughter looking more radiant. The moment Stuart spotted Maggie, he gave her the huge grin that had become so familiar during their holiday in Australia.

  Maggie hugged them in turn. ‘It’s wonderful to see you both,’ she said. She took one of Tara’s bags and led them towards the subway which led to the main terminal.

  One of the men who had been watching her was already waiting in the short-term parking lot, in the passenger seat of a Toyota transporter with a load of eleven new cars. The other two were running across the lot.

  Maggie, Tara and Stuart stepped into the cold morning air and walked over to Maggie’s car. ‘Isn’t it time you got yourself something more up to date than this old scrapheap, Mom?’ Tara asked in mock horror. ‘I was still in high school when you bought it, and it was second-hand then.’

  ‘The Toyota is the safest car on the road,’ said Maggie primly, ‘as Consumer Reports regularly confirms.’

  ‘No thirteen-year-old car is safe on the road,’ replied Tara.

  ‘In any case,’ said Maggie, ignoring her daughter’s jibe, ‘your father thinks we should hold on to it until he begins his new job, when he’ll be given a company car.’

  The mention of Connor brought a moment of awkward silence.

  ‘I’m looking forward to seeing your husband again, Mrs Fitzgerald,’ said Stuart as he climbed into the back seat.

  Maggie didn’t say, ‘And so am I,’ but satisfied herself with, ‘So this is your first visit to America.’

  ‘That’s right,’ Stuart replied as Maggie switched on the ignition. ‘And already I’m not sure I’ll ever want to return to Oz.’

  ‘We have enough overpaid lawyers in the States already, without adding another one from down under,’ said Tara as they waited in line to pay the parking fee.

  Maggie smiled at her, feeling happier than she had for weeks.

  ‘When do you have to go home, Stuart?’

  ‘If you feel he’s already outstayed his welcome, we could just turn round and take the next flight back, Mom,’ said Tara.

  ‘No, I didn’t mean that, it’s just …’

  ‘I know - you do love to plan ahead,’ said Tara with a laugh. ‘If she could, Stuart, Mom would make students register for Georgetown at conception.’

  ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’ said Maggie.

  ‘I’m not expected back at my desk until the fifth of January,’ said Stuart. ‘I hope you’ll be able to tolerate me for that long.’

  ‘She’s not going to be given a lot of choice,’ said Tara, squeezing his hand.

  Maggie handed a ten-dollar bill to the cashier before pulling out of the parking lot and onto the highway. She glanced in the rear-view mirror, but didn’t notice a nondescript blue Ford about a hundred yards behind her, travelling at roughly the same speed. The man in the passenger seat was reporting in to his superior at Langley that the subject had left ‘Kerbside’ at seven forty-three and was headed in the direction of Washington with the two packages she had picked up.

  ‘Did you enjoy San Francisco, Stuart?’

  ‘Every moment,’ he replied. ‘We’re planning to spend a couple more days there on my way back.’

  When Maggie glanced in her rear-view mirror again, she saw a Virginia State patrol car coming up behind her, its lights flashing.

  ‘Is he following me, do you think? I certainly wasn’t speeding,’ said Maggie, looking down to check her speedometer.

  ‘Mom, this car is practically an antique, and should have been towed away years ago. It could be anything, from your brake lights to defective tyres. Just pull over.’ Tara looked out the back window. ‘And when the traffic cop speaks to you, be sure to flash that Irish smile of yours.’

  Maggie pulled over as the blue Ford drove by in the centre lane.

  ‘Shit,’ said the driver, as he shot past them.

  Maggie wound down her window as the two policemen stepped out of their patrol car and walked slowly towards them. The first officer smiled and said politely, ‘May I see your licence, ma’am?’

  ‘Certainly, officer,’ said Maggie, returning his smile. She leaned over, opened her bag and began rummaging around inside as the second patrolman indicated to Stuart that he should also wind down his window. Stuart thought this was an odd request, as he could hardly have been guilty of any traffic offence, but as he wasn’t in his own country, he thought it wiser to comply. He wound down the window just as Maggie located her driving licence. As she turned to hand it over, the second policeman drew his gun and fired three shots into the car.

  The two of them walked quickly back to their patrol car. While