The Hunters (Presidential Agent 3)

Pevsner stood up, opened one of the French doors, and signaled for Charley to go ahead of him.

When they were halfway across the lawn toward where the helicopter was parked, Pevsner said, “When do you want to talk about what you’re really out here for? Before you show me how that bastard cheated me on the avionics when I bought that helicopter? Or after?”

“After,” Charley said, and then, after considering it, added: “Alek, I didn’t say he cheated you. I just said you don’t have the best equipment available. There’s a difference.”

“No there’s not. I told him I wanted the best and I didn’t get it. That’s cheating.”

“Cheating would be if he charged you for better avionics than you got. If he charged you fairly for what he sold you, that’s not cheating.”

Pevsner didn’t argue but his face showed he had not accepted Charley’s argument.

Christ, is he thinking of whacking the salesman?

“Alek, an aircraft salesman with a beauty mark in the center of his forehead would make people ask questions. You want as few questions raised as possible.”

Pevsner nodded, not happily, but the nod was enough to make Castillo think: That argument may have gotten home.

“So that’s it, Alek,” Castillo said after pointing out to Pevsner where the new avionics would goon the instrument panel and in the avionics compartment. “Installation is no big deal. The new stuff will fit right in where they’ll take the old stuff out. Just make sure…just make sure your pilot watches the calibration.”

“I’ll be sure to do that,” Pevsner said. “Thank you very much, Charley.”

“Like I said, a small token of my appreciation for your courtesy.”

“In anticipation of asking for another favor?”

“Not right now anyway.”

“Looking the gift horse in the mouth, how much is that equipment worth?”

“Do you really care?”

“I care about who paid for it,” Pevsner said.

“If you’re really asking is there some kind of locator device—or something else clever in there—the answer is no. If your avionics guy is any good at all, he can check that for you.”

“So who’s paying for it?”

“Let’s just say that your friend Charley recently came into a considerable sum of money and wanted to share his good fortune.”

“So I understand.”

“Excuse me?”

“I heard you came into a lot of money. Nearly sixteen million dollars.”

“You do keep your ear to the ground, don’t you?” Castillo asked, and then went on before Pevsner had a chance to reply: “So we are now in part two of our little chat, is that it?”

“You tell me, Charley.”

“Let’s talk about Budapest,” Castillo said. “You’re a Hungarian, right? Or at least have a Hungarian passport?”

Pevsner didn’t reply.

“Well, as someone who knows Budapest and keeps his ear to the ground, I guess you know who Eric Kocian is.”

“I’ve heard the name.”

“He’s a fine old gentleman,” Castillo said. “More important, he’s almost kin.”