Cat O'Nine Tales and Other Stories - Jeffrey Archer [83]
Malik slipped into the chair opposite the Commissioner. He sat in silence, trying not to appear nervous as he watched the second hand of the clock on the wall behind the desk complete a full minute.
“Malik,” the Commissioner eventually said as he looked up from the papers on his desk, “I’ve just been reading your supervisors annual report.”
Malik remained silent, although he could feel a bead of sweat trickling down his nose.
The Commissioner looked back down again. “He’s very complimentary about your work,” said Kumar, “full of praise. Far better than I could have hoped for when you sat in that chair just a year ago.” The Commissioner looked up and smiled. “In fact, he’s recommending that you should be promoted.”
“Promoted?” said Malik in disbelief.
“Yes, though it may not prove that easy, as there are not too many appropriate jobs available at the present time. However, I do believe I have come across a position that is ideally suited for your particular talents.”
“Oh, thank you, sir,” said Malik, relaxing for the first time.
“There is a vacancy—” the Commissioner opened another file and smiled—”for an assistant in the city morgue.” He extracted a single sheet of paper and began reading from it.
“It would be your responsibility to scrub the blood off the slabs
and clean the floor immediately after the bodies have been dissected and stored away I’m told the stench is not all that pleasant, but a face mask is supplied, and I have no doubt that, in time, one gets used to it.” He continued to smile at Malik. “The appointment comes with the rank of sub-supervisor, along with a corresponding rise in salary. It also has other perks, not least that you would have your own room directly above the morgue, so you wouldn’t have to bed down any longer at the YMCA.” The Commissioner paused. “And, should you continue to hold the post until your sixtieth birthday, you would also be entitled to a modest pension.” The Commissioner closed Malik’s file and looked directly at him. “Any questions?” he asked.
“Only one, sir,” said Malik. “Is there any alternative?” “Oh, yes,” replied the Commissioner. “You can spend the rest of your life in jail.”
In the Eye
Of the
Beholder
Other than the fact that they had been to school together, the two of them had little in common.
Gian Lorenzo Venici had been a diligent child since
his first roll call at the age of five, whereas Paolo Castelli somehow managed always to be late, even for his first roll call.
Gian Lorenzo felt at home in the classroom with books, essays and exams, where he outshone his contemporaries. Paolo achieved the same results on the football field, with a change of pace, a deceptive turn and a shot at goal which beguiled his own team as well as the opposition. Both young men progressed to St. Cecilia’s, the most prestigious high school in Rome, where they were able to display their talents to a wider audience.
When their school days were over, they both graduated to Roma: Gian Lorenzo to the nation’s oldest university as a scholar, Paolo to the nation’s oldest football club as a striker. Although they didn’t mix in the same circles, they were both well aware of the other’s achievements. While Gian Lorenzo collected honors in one field, Paolo won them on another, both achieving their goals.
After leaving university, Gian Lorenzo joined his father at the Venici Gallery. He immediately set about converting those years of study into something more practical, as he wished to emulate his father and become the most respected art dealer in Italy.
By the time Gian Lorenzo had begun his apprenticeship, Paolo had been appointed captain of Roma. With the cheers and adulation of the fans ringing in his ears, he led them to championship and European glory. Gian Lorenzo only had to turn to the back pages of any newspaper, on an almost daily basis, to follow the exploits of his former classmate, and to the gossip columns to discover who was the latest beauty to be found dangling from his arm: another difference