The Hunters (Presidential Agent 3)

“And I said if I have to spend another day in bed, I would prefer to do so in my own bed instead of on this Indian bed of nails,” Kocian said. “Starting right now.”

“My counteroffer was to release him after breakfast tomorrow, with the caveat he will actually go to his bed and stay there for twenty-four hours. he said that whether he stays in bed depends on when you plan to leave for Argentina.”

“Very early in the morning, the day after tomorrow,” Castillo said.

“Why then?” Kocian asked.

“Because that’s when the plane leaves,” Castillo said.

“You understand Max is going?”

“I understand Max is going,” Castillo said. “I couldn’t leave him; we’re pals.”

Kocian snorted, then said: “You see, Fredric? We have reached agreement. I will leave your charnel house in the morning. Before breakfast, as the food you serve in here would poison an oxen.”

“You will leave after breakfast and after I have another look at you in the morning, and then only if Úr Gossinger will guarantee that you will go directly from here to your apartment and get in bed and stay there.”

“Will I be paroled, Karlchen, to have a bath and attend to necessary bodily functions?”

“As long as you’re quick about it and the bath is in your bathroom,” Castillo said. “Doctor, I’ll see that he stays in bed if I have to chain him to it.”

“You may well find yourself doing just that,” Dr. Czerny said, quickly shook Castillo’s and Görner’s hands, and walked out of the room.

“There will be security people from the Tages Zeitung here in a couple of minutes,” Otto Görner announced. “And I will arrange with them to take you from here to your apartment in the morning.”

“Do you ever think before you act, Otto?” Kocian asked.

“Something’s wrong?” Görner said.

“Max dislikes security people,” Kocian explained. “They apparently have a special smell. Max tends to bite people he dislikes and the security people know it. They may go on strike.”

Castillo said, “I want you alive, so you can talk to me. These people will keep you alive until I can get you on the airplane.” He paused. “What about the cop at the door? Max has no problem with him.”

“There is an exception to every rule,” Kocian said. “And I suspect the cop—his name is Kádár—has been feeding Max leberwurst. Max likes leberwurst.”

“So we will get the security people a supply of leberwurst,” Castillo said.

Kocian considered this a moment.

“No. Hanging around my bed of pain is no fun for Max,” he said, finally. “And the cop at the door has already been there too long. So when my security people arrive, I will send him away. And you will take Max to my apartment. You may stay with him, providing you take him for a late-night walk.”

“Two questions,” Castillo said. “Where is your apartment? And will they let me into it?”

“On the top floor of the Hotel Gellért,” Kocian replied, the expression on his face making it obvious he thought Castillo should have known where he lived. “And if you’re with Max, of course they will. You will find dog food in the kitchen, and there will be some beef bones in the refrigerator. He gets one large, or two small, only after he eats his dog food.”

“Yes, sir. And what does he like for dessert?”

“There is a dish of chocolates beside my chair. He gets two only.”

“Okay.”

“For reasons I can’t imagine, chocolate is supposed to be bad for dogs. In Max’s case, too much chocolate causes flatulence—and he can clear a room with it—so be wise and strong when he begs for more. He’s a very appealing beggar.”

“I’ll remember.”

“There’s a leash hanging from the door handle,” Kocian said. “You’d better put him on it. Unless I am there, Max tends to go pretty much where he wants to.”

Two minutes later, there was a knock at the door and two burly men—obviously armed under their suits—came into the room, saw Max, and stayed close to the door. Max growled softly but deeply and showed a thin but impressive row of teeth.