Chapter 44

           ThecentralofficeoftheBritishBroadcastCorporation(BBC)isinLondonjustwestofPiccadillyCircus.Theswitchboardphonerang,andajuniorcontenteditorpickedup.

           "BBC,"shesaid,stubbingoutherDunhillcigarette.

           Thevoiceonthelinewasraspy,withaMid-Eastaccent."Ihaveabreakingstoryyournetworkmightbeinterestedin."

           TheeditortookoutapenandastandardLeadSheet."Regarding?"

           "Thepapalelection."

           Shefrownedwearily.TheBBChadrunapreliminarystoryyesterdaytomediocreresponse.Thepublic,itseemed,hadlittleinterestinVaticanCity."What’stheangle?"

           "DoyouhaveaTVreporterinRomecoveringtheelection?"

           "Ibelieveso."

           "Ineedtospeaktohimdirectly."

           "I’msorry,butIcannotgiveyouthatnumberwithoutsomeidea—"

           "Thereisathreattotheconclave.ThatisallIcantellyou."

           Theeditortooknotes."Yourname?"

           "Mynameisimmaterial."

           Theeditorwasnotsurprised."Andyouhaveproofofthisclaim?"

           "Ido."

           "Iwouldbehappytotaketheinformation,butitisnotourpolicytogiveoutourreporters’numbersunless—"

           "Iunderstand.Iwillcallanothernetwork.Thankyouforyourtime.Good-b—"

           "Justamoment,"shesaid."Canyouhold?"

           Theeditorputthecalleronholdandstretchedherneck.Theartofscreeningoutpotentialcrankcallswasbynomeansaperfectscience,butthiscallerhadjustpassedtheBBC’stwotacittestsforauthenticityofaphonesource.Hehadrefusedtogivehisname,andhewaseagertogetoffthephone.Hacksandgloryhoundsusuallywhinedandpleaded