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"I have always been partial to women in red panties," Davidson said.
"Being a professional, I was of course more interested in the pistol."
"You didn't notice the red panties, right?"
"In passing, of course."
"I noticed the pistol in passing. I have no trouble walking and chewing gum at the same time. It was more than likely a Model 1908 Colt Vest Pocket, in more than likely .25 ACP, although they made some in .32 ACP."
"It was my in-passing snap judgment that the garment in question was Victoria's Secret Model 17B, which comes with a label warning that there is not enough material in the garment for it to be used to safely blow one's nose."
"You don't think she gets cold, do you?"
"Russian women have a reputation for being warm-blooded."
"You better keep that in mind, Charley. I think that dame is trouble."
Castillo grunted. "That would appear to be the understatement of the day."
He picked up his briefcase and waved Davidson ahead of him out of the compartment.
There were three burly men in the corridor. Two of them were carrying the travel kennel. It now had Madchen inside with her pups.
That was a good idea, Charley thought. If Madchen and Max had gotten into a fight, that would've been a real diversion.
The third burly man blocked their way until Billy Kocian came out of the compartment and vouched for them.
As they walked down the platform and then down the stairs to cars waiting for them on the street, Castillo saw four different groups of men--two pairs, one trio, and one quartet--who could have been waiting for Berezovsky and the others. Or who could be waiting for anyone else.
The trio seemed unusually interested in Billy Kocian and the procession following him. Which of course could be attributed to Max and Madchen, who were growling at each other.
A silver Mercedes S600 with Budapest tags was waiting at the curb. Kocian opened the kennel, motioned Madchen inside the automobile's backseat, took a pup in each hand, and followed. A burly man closed the door, and the car immediately drove off.
A much smaller and older Mercedes pulled up. The burly man opened the front and rear right-side doors and motioned for Davidson and Castillo to get in. Max did so first, taking his place in back.
"Where are we going?" Davidson asked as the vehicle lurched forward.
"The Sacher," Castillo said.
"As in Sachertorte? The cake of many layers?"
Castillo nodded. "It was invented there. Billy has an apartment there."
"Room enough for us?"
"Room enough for us and half a dozen other people."
[SIX]
The Bar
The Hotel Sacher
Philharmonikerstrasse 4
Vienna, Austria
1925 28 December 2005
