Read Online Cat O'Nine Tales: And Other Stories by Jeffrey Archer - Free Book Online
Authors: Jeffrey Archer
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about what needed to be done the moment his
plane touched down at Heathrow.
“What’s the
first thing you’ll do after the deal has been signed?” asked Chenkov , breaking into his thoughts.
“Put in a
tender for the sanitation contract in this city, because whoever gets it would
surely make an even larger fortune.”
The minister
looked round sharply.
“Never raise
that subject in public,” he said gravely. “It’s a very sensitive issue.”
Dick remained
silent.
“And take my
advice, don’t drink the water. Last year we lost countless numbers of our
citizens who contracted...” the minister hesitated, unwilling to add credence
to a story that had been splashed across the front pages of every Western
paper.
“How many is
countless?” inquired Dick.
“None,” replied
the minister. “Or at least that’s the official statistic released by the
Ministry of Tourism,” he added as the car came to a halt on a double red line
outside the entrance of Pulkovo II airport. He leaned
forward. “Karl, take Mr. Barnsley’s bags to check-in,
while I wait here.”
Dick leaned
across and shook hands with the minister for the second time that morning.
“Thank you, Anatol , for everything,” he said. “See
you in three weeks’ time.”
“Long life and
happiness, my friend,” said Chenkov as Dick stepped
out of the car.
Dick checked in
at the departure desk an hour before boarding was scheduled for his flight to
London.
“This is the
last call for Flight 902 to London Heathrow,” came crackling over the tannoy .
“Is there
another flight going to London right now?” asked Dick.
“Yes,” replied
the man behind the check-in desk. “Flight 902 has been delayed, but they’re
just about to close the gate.”
“Can you get me
on it?” asked Dick, as he slid a thousand- rouble note
across the counter.
Dick’s plane
touched down at Heathrow three and a half hours later. Once he’d retrieved his
case from the carousel, he pushed his trolley through the Nothing to Declare channel and emerged into the arrivals hall.
Stan, his
driver, was already waiting among a group of chauffeurs, most of whom were holding up name cards. As soon as Stan spotted his
boss, he walked quickly across and relieved him of his suitcase and overnight
bag.
“Home or the office?” Stan asked as they walked toward the
short-stay carpark .
Dick checked
his watch: just after four. “Home,” he said. “I’ll work in the back of the
car.”
Once Dick’s
Jaguar had emerged from the carpark to begin the
journey to Virginia Water, Dick immediately called his office.
“Richard Barnsley’s office,” said a voice.
“Hi, Jill, it’s
me. I managed to catch an earlier flight, and I’m on my way home. Is there
anything I should be worrying about?”
“No,
everything’s running smoothly this end,” Jill replied. “We’re all just waiting
to find out how things went in St. Petersburg.”
“Couldn’t have gone better. The minister wants me back on
May sixteenth to sign the contract.”
“But that’s
less than three weeks away.”
“ Which means we’ll all have to get a move on. So set up a
board meeting for early next week, and then make an appointment for me to see
Sam Cohen first thing tomorrow morning. I can’t afford any slip-ups at this
stage.”
“Can I come to
St. Petersburg with you?”
“Not this time,
Jill, but once the contract has been signed block out ten days in the diary.
Then I’ll take you somewhere a little warmer than St. Petersburg.”
Dick sat
silently in the back of the car, going over everything that needed to be
covered before he returned to St. Petersburg. By the time Stan drove through
the wrought-iron gates and came to a halt outside the neo-Georgian mansion,
Dick knew what had to be done. He jumped out of the car and ran into the house.
He left Stan to unload the bags, and his housekeeper to unpack them. Dick was
surprised not to find his wife standing on the top step, waiting to
plane touched down at Heathrow.
“What’s the
first thing you’ll do after the deal has been signed?” asked Chenkov , breaking into his thoughts.
“Put in a
tender for the sanitation contract in this city, because whoever gets it would
surely make an even larger fortune.”
The minister
looked round sharply.
“Never raise
that subject in public,” he said gravely. “It’s a very sensitive issue.”
Dick remained
silent.
“And take my
advice, don’t drink the water. Last year we lost countless numbers of our
citizens who contracted...” the minister hesitated, unwilling to add credence
to a story that had been splashed across the front pages of every Western
paper.
“How many is
countless?” inquired Dick.
“None,” replied
the minister. “Or at least that’s the official statistic released by the
Ministry of Tourism,” he added as the car came to a halt on a double red line
outside the entrance of Pulkovo II airport. He leaned
forward. “Karl, take Mr. Barnsley’s bags to check-in,
while I wait here.”
Dick leaned
across and shook hands with the minister for the second time that morning.
“Thank you, Anatol , for everything,” he said. “See
you in three weeks’ time.”
“Long life and
happiness, my friend,” said Chenkov as Dick stepped
out of the car.
Dick checked in
at the departure desk an hour before boarding was scheduled for his flight to
London.
“This is the
last call for Flight 902 to London Heathrow,” came crackling over the tannoy .
“Is there
another flight going to London right now?” asked Dick.
“Yes,” replied
the man behind the check-in desk. “Flight 902 has been delayed, but they’re
just about to close the gate.”
“Can you get me
on it?” asked Dick, as he slid a thousand- rouble note
across the counter.
Dick’s plane
touched down at Heathrow three and a half hours later. Once he’d retrieved his
case from the carousel, he pushed his trolley through the Nothing to Declare channel and emerged into the arrivals hall.
Stan, his
driver, was already waiting among a group of chauffeurs, most of whom were holding up name cards. As soon as Stan spotted his
boss, he walked quickly across and relieved him of his suitcase and overnight
bag.
“Home or the office?” Stan asked as they walked toward the
short-stay carpark .
Dick checked
his watch: just after four. “Home,” he said. “I’ll work in the back of the
car.”
Once Dick’s
Jaguar had emerged from the carpark to begin the
journey to Virginia Water, Dick immediately called his office.
“Richard Barnsley’s office,” said a voice.
“Hi, Jill, it’s
me. I managed to catch an earlier flight, and I’m on my way home. Is there
anything I should be worrying about?”
“No,
everything’s running smoothly this end,” Jill replied. “We’re all just waiting
to find out how things went in St. Petersburg.”
“Couldn’t have gone better. The minister wants me back on
May sixteenth to sign the contract.”
“But that’s
less than three weeks away.”
“ Which means we’ll all have to get a move on. So set up a
board meeting for early next week, and then make an appointment for me to see
Sam Cohen first thing tomorrow morning. I can’t afford any slip-ups at this
stage.”
“Can I come to
St. Petersburg with you?”
“Not this time,
Jill, but once the contract has been signed block out ten days in the diary.
Then I’ll take you somewhere a little warmer than St. Petersburg.”
Dick sat
silently in the back of the car, going over everything that needed to be
covered before he returned to St. Petersburg. By the time Stan drove through
the wrought-iron gates and came to a halt outside the neo-Georgian mansion,
Dick knew what had to be done. He jumped out of the car and ran into the house.
He left Stan to unload the bags, and his housekeeper to unpack them. Dick was
surprised not to find his wife standing on the top step, waiting to
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