Castillo thrust out his hand.
"Carlos Castillo, right?" Dmitri Berezovsky said. He stood, took the extended hand, and pumped it enthusiastically.
"Actually, it's 'Charley,' Tom, but what the hell! Jack, this is Tom Barlow. You've heard me talk about him."
"I sure have," Davidson answered, then shook Berezovsky's hand. "Jack Davidson, Tom. Going to Vienna, are you?"
"A business conference," Berezovsky said, and looked at Castillo. "Charley, I don't think you've met the better half, have you?"
"No, I haven't," Castillo said.
"Honey, this is Charley Castillo," Berezovsky said. "Charley, this is my wife, Laura, and our daughter, Sophie, and my sister, Susan Alexander."
The girl's about the age of Aleksandr Pevsner's daughter, Elena, Castillo thought.
And my Randy.
Except that but for blood my Randy's not my Randy.
The wife and daughter smiled a little uneasily, offered their hands, but said nothing.
The sister said, "How are you? Nice to meet you," as she offered her hand.
Nice English, Castillo thought. But the Russian comes through.
And then he noticed that she was beautiful.
I missed that until now?
What is that, tunnel vision?
"Charley, you know what?" Berezovsky said. "I was going to see if I could find you in Vienna. A little business opportunity I'd like to discuss with you."
"Oh, really? I'm always open for a good business opportunity."
"Well, we're still a couple of hours from Vienna. What I was thinking was if we could find someplace to talk. . . . I don't like to talk business in front of my family."
"I understand," Castillo said. "Well, how about my compartment? That is, unless you don't like dogs."
"Excuse me?"
"I have my dog with me. Some people are afraid of dogs."
"I love dogs," Berezovsky said.
"We're two cars back," Castillo said.
Davidson took tickets from his pocket, looked at them, and announced, "Compartment four, wagon three."
"Compartment four, wagon three," Berezovsky repeated. "Say, in thirty minutes?"
"Fine," Castillo said. He offered his hand again to Berezovsky's wife and then to his sister. "It was nice to meet you. Perhaps we'll meet again."
He smiled at the girl, who smiled shyly back. Berezovsky's wife again said nothing. The sister said, "That would be nice."
"There's a very nice Wiener schnitzel," Berezovsky said. "And the beer's Czech, from Pilsen."
Castillo smiled at him, then turned and motioned for Davidson to go to a table across the aisle.