The Eleventh Commandment (1998) by Jeffrey Archer Page B

slipped across the room to join her.
    ‘I was delighted to hear that you’ll be staying with the company, Joan,’ were his opening words. ‘I thought you might be leaving us to join Connor in his new job.’
    ‘No, I’ll be remaining with the firm,’ said Joan, uncertain how much the Deputy Director knew.
    ‘I just thought that as Connor’s continuing in the same line of business …’
    You’re on a fishing trip, thought Joan. ‘I wouldn’t know,’ she said firmly.
    ‘Who’s Chris Jackson talking to?’ Gutenburg asked.
    Joan looked across the room. She would like to have been able to say she had no idea, but she knew she wouldn’t get away with it. ‘That’s Father Graham, the Fitzgeralds’ local parish priest from Chicago, and Tara, Connor’s daughter.’
    ‘And what does she do?’ asked Gutenburg.
    ‘She’s completing a PhD at Stanford.’
    Gutenburg realised that he was wasting his time trying to get any real information out of Connor’s secretary. After all, she had worked for Fitzgerald for nearly twenty years, so there wasn’t much doubt where her loyalties lay - though there was nothing in her file to suggest that their relationship was anything but professional. And, looking at Miss Bennett, he suspected she might be the last forty-five-year-old virgin left in Washington. When Connor’s daughter went over to the drinks table to refill her glass, Gutenburg left Joan without another word.
    ‘My name’s Nick Gutenburg,’ he told her, thrusting out his hand. ‘I’m a colleague of your father’s.’
    ‘I’m Tara,’ she said. ‘Do you work at the downtown office?’
    ‘No, I’m based in the suburbs,’ said Gutenburg. ‘Are you still on the West Coast doing graduate work?’
    ‘That’s right,’ Tara replied, looking a little surprised. ‘And what about you? Which branch of the company do you work for?’
    ‘Loss adjustment. It’s rather boring compared with what your father does, but someone has to stay at home and do the paperwork,’ he said, letting out a little laugh. ‘By the way, I was delighted to hear about your dad’s new appointment.’
    ‘Yes, Mom was pleased that such a prestigious firm snapped him up so quickly. Although it’s still not official.’
    ‘Will he be working out of Washington?’ Gutenburg asked, sipping his Perrier.
    ‘Yes, the company’s based just a couple of blocks from his old office …’ Tara stopped talking when she heard a sharp noise. She turned to see Chris Jackson banging the table to bring the guests to order.
    ‘Excuse me,’ she whispered. ‘That’s my cue to resume my official duties for the evening.’ She walked quickly away, and Gutenburg turned to listen to his predecessor at Langley.
    ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Chris began. He waited until everyone was silent before he continued. ‘It’s my privilege to propose a toast to two of my oldest friends, Connor and Maggie. Over the years, Connor has consistently proved to be the one man most likely to get me into a scrape.’
    The guests laughed. One called out, ‘Only too true,’ and another added, ‘I know the problem.’
    ‘But once you’re in a scrape, I don’t know anyone better to get you out of it.’ This was greeted by warm applause. ‘We first met …’
    Gutenburg felt his pager buzz, and quickly pulled it off his belt. ‘troy asap’, it read. He flicked it off, and slipped out of the room into the hall. He picked up the nearest phone as if he was in his own home and dialled a number that wasn’t in any directory. It hadn’t even rung before a voice said, ‘The Director.’
    ‘I got your message, but I’m on a non-secure line.’ He didn’t need to announce who he was.
    ‘What I have to tell you, everyone in the world will know about in a few hours.’
    Gutenburg didn’t speak. It wasted time.
    ‘Yeltsin died of a heart attack seventeen minutes ago,’ said Helen Dexter. ‘Report to my office immediately, and cancel everything you’re doing for