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"So what are my friends Charley and Alfredo doing in Patagonia with a dog the size of a horse?" Pevsner asked.
"Would you believe we came to see the fossilized dinosaur bones?" Castillo said.
"Knowing that you never lie to me, I would have to."
"How about we heard you would be here and decided to buy you dinner?"
"It would be a strain, but I would have to believe that, too."
"We need to talk, Alek," Castillo said.
"That I believe. That's what I was afraid of," Pevsner said. "All right, tomorrow morning. I'll send the boat for you at, say, half past nine?"
"How about tonight?" Castillo said. "I'm really pressed for time."
Pevsner obviously didn't like that, but after a moment, he said, "We came for dinner. We could talk about what you want to talk about after dinner, if you like."
"That would be fine," Castillo said. "Thank you. And you'll be my guests at dinner, of course."
"That's not what I meant, as I suspect you know full well, friend Charley. But faced with the choice between the long face of Elena over dinner-having been separated from her newfound friend-or breaking bread with you, I opt for the less painful of the two."
"Alek!" his wife protested.
"It's all right, Anna," Castillo said. "What are friends for if not to insult?"
"I'm afraid that after dinner I will learn what you really think friends are for," Pevsner said. "Shall we go in?" He gestured toward the dining room. "Elena, the dog goes with the understanding he does not get fed from the table, understood?"
"Yes, Poppa."
"I don't think they'll let him in there, Alek," Castillo said. "This isn't Budapest."
"Yes, I know," Pevsner said. "In Patagonia, you have to have a substantial financial interest in the hotel if you want to bring a dog into the dining room."
Castillo smiled and shook his head.
The maitre d'hotel appeared, clutching menus to his chest.
"These gentlemen," Pevsner ordered, indicating Castillo and Munz, "will be dining with us. Their friends"-he pointed to Lorimer, Mullroney, and Bradley-"will dine with mine."
His Spanish was good, even fluent, but heavily Russian-accented.
"Bradley," Castillo ordered, "go to your room and see if I have any telephone calls. If it's important, tell me. Otherwise, just come down here and have your dinner."
"Aye, aye, sir," Bradley said.
A waiter arrived with a tray of champagne glasses almost as soon as the headwaiter had laid their menus before them. Two of the glasses held a bubbling brown liquid that Castillo decided was Coca-Cola for Sergei and Aleksandr. He was surprised when Elena was offered and accepted one of the champagne stems.
I don't need champagne if I'm going to be flying. I'll just take a sip when we get to the inevitable toast.
That came almost immediately.
Pevsner got half out of his chair, picked up his glass, and reached out with it to touch Castillo's.
"To dear and trusted friends," Pevsner said, and then moved his glass to tap the rims of the others, including his daughter's.
When that was over, Pevsner just about emptied his glass. Elena didn't do that, but she took a healthy ladylike sip.
They let her drink? Maybe she is older than Randy.
