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“Between you and me? I don’t think so. Do you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I don’t think so either.”
She sipped her champagne and looked around the room.
“Is that Al Roker at the next table?” she asked Emerson.
“Yes. He’s a nice man. And surprisingly funny.”
“You know him?”
“I did him a favor once.”
“You do a lot of favors.”
“Opportunities arise,” Emerson said.
“I bet. Tell me about Dr. Bauerfeind. I ran out of time before I could research him.”
“He’s a German chemist who has developed a technique for reading the fingerprint of gold even after it has been recast.”
“Fingerprint?”
“Precise chemical composition.”
“And this fingerprint reading is a big deal?”
“It’s unique to him.”
“And we care about this, why?”
“On a personal note, someone could be stealing my gold, melting it down, and putting it into some other form. Ordinarily it would be untraceable. On a global scale the theft and transformation of the world’s gold could bring about economic chaos.”
“Wow.”
“Exactly.”
“So have you done Bauerfeind any favors?”
“Not lately.”
“About tomorrow,” Riley said.
“It should be a fascinating day. I have a plan in place.”
“I’m not part of the plan, am I?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Emerson glanced at his menu. “I’m very fond of the chicken hash.”
“I’m going with the prosciutto-wrapped monkfish,” Riley said. “I’m all about anything related to bacon. Although it’s sort of a bummer that it’s wrapped around fish.”
“You don’t like fish?”
