Unintended Consequences

the street window—see if you see the BMW.”
    Fritz got out of the car and went inside.
    “What are we doing?” Stone asked.
    “I don’t want Majorov to associate us with this car,” Rick said. “And I don’t want him to see either of us popping up all the time.”
    Fritz returned. “The BMW stopped for a couple of minutes, then drove off,” he said.
    “Thank you for your help, Fritz,” Rick said. “Okay, out of the car.” He handed Fritz a fifty-euro note. “Would you ask the receptionist to call us a taxi, please? Have him drive in here. I don’t want him to see us leaving the building.”
    Shortly a taxi pulled into the courtyard, and they got in. Rick asked the driver to take them to the Plaza Athénée. Back in Stone’s suite, Stone asked, “Rick, do you have some theory of what’s going on here?”
    “You mean a unified theory that covers everything from your trip to Paris up to the present moment?”
    “That’s exactly what I mean.”
    “No,” Rick said, “I don’t. There are too many fragments to put together. What about you?”
    “I’m baffled,” Stone said. “I still don’t know who drugged me on the airplane, let alone why. I don’t know why Majorov would be interested in me.”
    “He wasn’t interested in you until he saw you, first with me, then with Amanda.”
    “I didn’t think he saw me with you,” Stone said.
    “The KGB trained him to walk into a room and see everybody,” Rick said. “That’s how the Agency trains us, too. They would walk us into a McDonald’s, then out, and say, okay, describe every adult in the restaurant.”
    “And you could do that?”
    “It’s amazing what you can do if somebody in authority is insisting. Believe me, Majorov made us together, and after the Amanda incident, he has you pegged as CIA, whether you like it or not.”
    “If I have a choice, I don’t like it,” Stone said.
    The phone rang, and Stone picked it up. “Yes?”
    “It’s Eggers.”
    “So you kept the satphone?”
    “The pilot didn’t want to leave without it, but I insisted. I don’t think anyone had ever taken one of his toys.”
    “Poor guy. I’ll bet he’s having trouble explaining that.”
    “He’ll get over it when I send it back to him. The reason I called is, I remembered that thing I couldn’t remember when I talked to you before.”
    “Tell me.”
    “He said Warren Buffett recommended our firm to him.”
    “Have you ever done any business with Warren Buffett?”
    “No.”
    “Do you know Warren Buffett?”
    “No.”
    “Then why the hell would the man recommend us to Marcel duBois?”
    “I have no idea. I’m still trying to figure it out. Why don’t you ask him?”
    “All right.”
    “But don’t tell him we don’t know Warren Buffett.”
    “You think it’s better if he thinks we do?”
    “It couldn’t hurt.”
    “Bill, while I’ve got you, I need some help.”
    “Okay, what kind?”
    “DuBois has made us an offer for The Arrington.”
    “How much of an offer?”
    “A billion dollars, not including the land.”
    “Take it. Anything else?”
    “Wait a minute, what Mike Freeman and I want to do is to sell him, say, twenty percent of the hotel, then invest the proceeds with duBois for building some Arringtons in Europe.”
    “Great! Do that!”
    “What I need from you is a couple of guys from the firm to make up a negotiating team to do the deal.”
    “All you need is one guy,” Eggers said.
    “Who?”
    “You.”
    “I’ve never dealt with somebody that rich before. I’m afraid he’d skin me alive.”
    “Stone, if this were somebody else’s hotel, you wouldn’t bat an eye. You’re just nervous about playing poker with your own money. Sit down with the guy, trade a few lies about what you each think it’s worth, and get another offer from him. Then you can check with me, and I’ll tell you if you’re crazy or if duBois is.”
    “Well . . .”
    “You’re wasting my time. There are moose waiting.”
    “Okay. How’s the moosing going?”
    “Not bad. I’ll send you some steaks.”
    “Don’t, please don’t. I’ll never eat them.”
    “You’re suffering from a Bambi complex,” Eggers said.
    “No, I have no trouble with venison, but moose is something else again. I think it’s their soulful eyes.”
    “Sissy.” Eggers hung up.
    Rick stood up. “All right, I’m leaving now. If anybody tailed us in the taxi . . .”
    “We didn’t see the BMW while we were in the taxi,” Stone pointed